Loyalty and Secrecy

By Nicholas G. L. Petryszak

A young, disillusioned university professor tells his story of becoming involved with an international triad organization, “the circle”. Blinded by lust and love, wealth and glamour, he unwittingly transforms into a gang member; participating in a variety of crimes; witnessing murder and tragic suicide; ending up in prison. A story of love, criminal intrigue and tragic drama. About how the bonds of loyalty and secrecy are forged and then, how they are finally broken.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781665505888

Nicholas G. L. Petryszak

Full Moon Waning is my third novel. As a former university professor and administrator, I have also published a number of academic articles. Recently retired from my professional career, I have now begun my fourth novel. I live in Abbotsford, British Columbia, Canada. Apart from writing, I enjoy working out and being in the outdoors.

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PROLOGUE

This is an account of what happened to me, not that long ago. Actually happened is the wrong word, as it implies that I was a passive receiver of all the troubles that came my way. The truth is, I was a keen and willing participant.

I know now, there are those things, actually quite a few of them, that I probably shouldn’t have done. So yes, I have some regrets.

But what happened to me, wasn’t all bad. There was a lot of good times as well. I met some women who I came to love and maybe they loved me. And there too, was the high life, the glamour and the excitement that went with it, and of course, all that money. A whole lot of money.

I’ve had a lot of time to think and to write about the events and the people I was involved with. What I’ve written is partly a confession. Unfortunately, it is also a betrayal of some of those, to whom I had promised loyalty and secrecy. Of this, I’m not proud.

There are probably a few lessons to be learned in these pages. One of them is: be true to yourself. But to do that, you first have to know who you really are. The other one is: live a simple life. You’ll be better off that way. Not like me and when you read this book, you’ll see why.

Dr. Paul Moretti.

Inmate Number: 1989PM

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1

THE SEMINAR

It was my last university lecture of the semester. The topic: A sociological examination of collective behavior as related to social movements, ideology, charismatic leaders and group violence. I talked a lot about totalitarianism, indoctrination and blind obedience to leaders and ideological regimes. I explained to the students that much of history was predicated on some, or all of these dynamics. The need to obey, the need for group membership. All of that stuff. Whether or not any of those students understood my lecture, their exam results would tell. Whether or not that knowledge gained would make any difference in their lives, I had no way of knowing and I seriously doubted it.

Anyways, who really knew what was going on with these students? For that matter, who really cared. I didn’t. Not anymore that is.

It was a medium sized lecture hall. There were about sixty students, which was quite large, for a third-year sociology class.

My last words to them were, Beware of charismatic people who promise you a glorious future.

At the end of my lecture, they stood up and began to leave. Sometimes, in past terms when a course was over, the students had applauded me at the end of the last lecture.

Today, there was no applause. No questions. No one came up to thank me or even to speak with me. Nothing. Everyone just left. That was it.

Soon, I was alone in the lecture hall. Just me and my thoughts. I turned off the microphone and overhead projector. Now it was quiet. Very quiet.

Actually, I wasn’t sure what to think about anything anymore. At that point, all I knew was that I was a visiting assistant professor at one of the top ranked universities on the west coast. That I was on a one-year teaching contract which was coming to an end. That I didn’t have tenure and I wasn’t even sure if my current contract would be renewed.

Usually these types of temporary contracts were only for a year. I had already been on similar contracts at various universities across the country for what now was going on four years. I was getting used to the routine. There just wasn’t any tenure track positions available anywhere. If there was, the competition was so steep that the chance of getting a position was almost out of reach.

So, there it is. That’s my story and those are my thoughts. Sad, if not totally pathetic. The future seemed quite dim.

All through grad school I had dreamed of becoming a tenured university professor, so that I could teach, conduct research and make contributions to new knowledge. Since getting my PhD, all I had been able to do is get short term sessional teaching appointments with low pay and with little hope for the future. Needless to say, my success quotient to date was pretty low, if not minimal.

On the positive side, at least I had a chance to teach. My publication record was also pretty good; with over ten refereed articles completed and accepted for publication in journals. But all of that just wasn’t good enough to get a tenured track position.

Maybe there were other reasons too. Reasons to do with "fit’. You know, fitting into the academic world. Being one of them. Being a professor, a real professor who was curious and insightful but not controversial. Being a liberal or even better yet, a Marxist. Not being supportive of the capitalist elite or big business or rich people. Believing that human nature was innately good and that human beings were forced into evil and didn’t commit evil acts willingly.

I know it’s important to believe in all of that stuff. More than that. I shouldn’t just believe in it. I should demonstrate it in an all aspects of what I wrote, what I said and what I did.

It was expected, that I should be a quiet, courteous and humble academic who was committed whole heartedly to the pursuit of truth in investigating the peculiarities of human existence. That is who I needed to be in order that I might be one of them and to be truly part of the brotherhood and sisterhood of academia.

That was who I needed to be, for now and forever. However, there was one problem and it was a big one. It was that I wasn’t sure if I could really be who I was supposed to be, or if I could even believe in any of those things.

What I did know, was that at the very least, I needed to pretend that I was one of them. Pretend that I could be everything that they were and more. While I was pretending, I knew I could still live in my own world as well. A secret world, that was hidden from them. A world where I could think and speak and do as I pleased.

As I thought about all of these things, I packed up my lecture notes and put everything into my briefcase. Looking at my watch, I saw that it was already 11:45am. I was scheduled to give a seminar at noon. It was a lunch and learn event, in the departmental conference room. Faculty members would be there and probably some graduate students as well. I was giving the presentation with the faint hope that it might lead to me being considered for a permanent position, if one ever did become available. Hope is a good thing and I don’t give up easily, at least not right away.

The conference room was on the small side. A large table took up most of the space, which could seat about fifteen people. I was early and the first person there. I took a seat at the head of the table. Soon people began to wander in. Some, who were faculty and a few who looked like graduate students. There were others who I didn’t recognize. I smiled and people smiled back at me.

The Program Director came in. Dr. Richard Ogilvy. He had snow white hair and was wearing a cardigan. He was the perfect image of what a real professor should look like. Sitting at the other end of the table, he glanced at me over the top of his wire rim spectacles. He looked around the room, seemingly content with the attendance for that afternoon. Then he looked back over at me. He didn’t smile. I found his expression to be curious. It was a vacant look and not real friendly; as if he was questioning who I was and why I was there. I smiled at him. Of course, it was a fake smile. Nevertheless, it was a smile. He didn’t respond.

I searched the room to see if there was anyone else, I should smile at. The faculty members who were there, and there wasn’t that many of them, were all junior faculty members. Some I knew. A few of them were tenure track; others were on sessional contracts.

The sessional instructors were like me. Wandering souls, with no roots, no commitments, and a limited future, at least in academia. I made it a point to smile at them. We all knew that together, we were brothers and sisters in this quest for legitimacy, recognition and permanence. We shared the same sadness about our fate. Despite all of this, I smiled and they smiled back. All of us, still somehow believing in the possibility that smiling brings hope. What we all needed then was hope.

The few graduate students attending, were probably there out of some sense of twisted curiosity. There, to see what a junior and non-tenured faculty member like myself was really like. There, to wonder why I wasn’t more than I was. Looking for the reasons. There, to see if I was strange, unbalanced, contentious or controversial. There, to see perhaps, if I was a genius in hiding, not yet discovered by the conventional academic world.

Who knows really why they were there? Maybe it was the nature of the topic of my talk. Social Science as Ideology. It was a hot topic to say the least. Sure to fire up the ire of those who believed themselves to be true scientists of human behavior; dressed in their white lab coats and all.

Go big or go home. That was my way of thinking. Either I would be recognized as a pioneer of new ways of perceiving the world, or I would crash and burn in a kamikaze spiral of self sacrifice and a naïve commitment to the truth.

It was then, as I swam in my own thoughts of self destruction, that I noticed her. She sat at the other end of the table, near the stern and unapproachable Director. She was young, or rather youngish, thirty perhaps and very attractive. With long black hair, dark eyes and bright red lips. Her skin looked so smooth and almost translucent. She was Asian. Probably Chinese. I recognized her from before, as one of the current graduate students in the department.

Her eyes looked into mine and my eyes, the eyes of a son of Italian immigrants, looked back into hers. That was it. It was only for an instant. Maybe it was less. I actually don’t know how these things are measured in time. But it did happen and there was no denying it.

I turned my eyes away, as I didn’t want to be seen staring. Nor did I want the all- knowing and self-righteous Director to think I was preoccupied with checking out the sexy and attractive graduate students in his department. That would be a real reputation builder for my academic career. So, I played it cool. I looked down at my notes, as it would soon be time to begin my presentation.

The Director cleared his throat. The people around the table stopped talking among themselves and listened politely to his introduction. He spoke in a very English voice.

A good afternoon to all of you. I am pleased to see that so many were able to make it here today. I would like to introduce our speaker, whom many of you already know. Dr. Paulo Moretti, who is currently a visiting assistant professor in our department and who is just now completing a one-year contract with us. Today, Dr. Moretti will be presenting some of his current research as related to the ideological foundations of the social sciences. I know that we all are looking forward to hearing more about his work. A warm welcome to you Dr. Moretti.

The Program Director led the applause and everyone joined in.

My presentation was short; lasting about twenty minutes. I won’t repeat it here. Other than to say that my thesis was to demonstrate that sociological theory was nothing more than an ideological and not a factual or scientific justification for the liberal ideals and values upon which our society is built upon today. In short, I was saying that there wasn’t much science in the so-called science of society. Controversial to say the least. No doubt about that.

When I finished my talk, I looked around the room and asked for questions and comments. The first thing I noticed was that no one there seemed to be eating their sandwich or drinking their coffee that they had brought with them. Some of them were staring at me. While others were looking down at the floor. It was as if they were pretending that they weren’t even there and hadn’t heard what I had just said.

The Program Director was the first to comment.

Dr. Moretti. An interesting presentation. However, I must certainly object to your reduction of the social sciences to some kind of ideological rhapsody of liberal ideals and beliefs. Such reductionism is not part of the social scientific process by any means. As a consequence, I feel that you seriously contradict yourself. In fact, your hypothesis seems to serve no other purpose than to dismiss all that we know as acknowledged truth, within current social scientific thought. With this in mind, I remain curious as to your intentions, other than your wish to disparage our discipline and those many dedicated scholars who work within it. Which I must say, very much includes myself.

The Program Director was finished speaking. The room was silent. Those people who had been looking down at their feet, pretending not to be there, were now staring at me. Silently wondering, as to what I would do and say.

At first, I didn’t say anything. But I knew. I knew that I had just crossed the river of acceptable social scientific topics, hypotheses and theories and I was now definitely on the other side. But I wasn’t alone there. Standing with me were all the heretics and others who had, throughout history, suffered delusions as to what was and was not truth in science.

Knowing the severity of what I had just said in my presentation, I took a deep breath and replied. I answered with a voice that was low, strong, determined and unafraid. Trying to sound like someone who had authority and who knew what he was talking about. Trying to sound like Winston Churchill in a speech he had given on the eve of the Battle of Britain. But inside I knew I was really nobody like that.

I said in that voice, I’m sorry sir, as to your perceptions of my research. My intentions are only to pursue the social scientific research process. To demonstrate the facts as they really are and not how some of you may wish them to be. If what I have said has made you uncomfortable, perhaps that should be taken as a sign of progress; leading towards the advancement of new knowledge. As such, I have given rise to questions and in turn, I may have assisted in the envisioning of new intellectual horizons of truth, as to what the social sciences could and should be.

After that I didn’t say anything more. Knowing that I had said enough. More than enough. The Program Director turned his gaze directly to me and then looked about the room. There were no more questions or comments from anyone. Just silence, uneaten sandwiches and cups of coffee which had not been drunk. Everyone there seemed to be watching me. I tried to appear unperturbed, unafraid and to be as Stoic as possible. Remembering then what the Stoic Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelias had written in his memoirs while attending at the Coliseum. Be like the lighthouse with the waves breaking beneath.

The Program Director broke the silence.

Well, if there are no further questions, all of us would like to thank you Dr. Moretti for your very interesting presentation this afternoon. We wish you a good day.

Standing up, the Program Director left the room. Watching him leave, I swallowed and took a deep breath. Right then and there I knew I had just fucked myself. Fucked my future and my chances of being a tenured professor. Probably even fucked the small possibility which had existed for the renewal of my one-year teaching contract. Stupid is as stupid does. That’s a fact and now I knew it.

Everyone in the room began gathering their things and leaving. Some talking with one another. Others hurrying to their next class. No one came up to me with a question or a comment. Everyone just left. Leaving me with the knowledge that I was either insane or just simple, or both.

Everyone left, that is, except her. The woman who had stared into my eyes and who I had stared back into hers. She remained sitting at the table. I looked at her now and she returned my look, but she was silent. I wasn’t sure what to say, as I had just finished saying all the wrong things, in the wrong place, to the wrong people. As a result, I was a little shy.

Nevertheless, I did finally speak to her. Somehow, I couldn’t help myself.

Well, that was an experience. It appears my ideas might be quite irrelevant to some and not worthy of serious consideration.

I sighed and in a resigned voice said, Oh well. Such is my fate I guess.

Again, she didn’t speak. Nor did she give any indication of having some level of sympathetic understanding about what I had just said or what had happened there. Sitting with her hands folded in front of her on the table, she appeared calm and contemplative. At the same time, looking sultry, elusive and very beautiful.

For a long moment, she didn’t answer me. Then she did. She spoke in a voice that was soft and cultured, with a tinge of an English accent. Like the accent you might hear from someone who had attended Oxford or Cambridge.

She said politely, almost formally, "Dr. Moretti. I found your presentation interesting and provocative. Your views of social science as ideology are leading edge and should be taken seriously by all of us who are doing social scientific research. Thank you very much for your talk and for seeking the truth. I quite enjoyed it.

Then she said something that was very beautiful and I won’t ever forget.

Seeking the truth is never easy. There is an old saying I must tell you.

In life, it is not possible to bloom bright flowers from lies.

I listened to her poetic words which were kind and caring. I looked at her more deeply to see who she really was. Noticing the small diamond earrings that she wore and the gold necklace around her neck with a small crucifix hanging from it. She had on a simple white blouse and black slacks, which complimented her slim and agile figure. Underneath her blouse, I could make out the faint outline of her breasts. Her jet-black hair hung down to her shoulders and reflected the light.

I suppose I might have been taken by her looks, her voice and her words. But I wasn’t sure, at least not right then.

I replied to her.

Thank you very much for your kindness. Unfortunately, it seems that there’s only a few who share your opinion, at least of those who were in this room. I do however, really appreciate your interest.

We both remained seated across from one another, at the table.

I asked her, Are you a faculty member here?

She smiled and in doing so showed her teeth, which were white and glistening and perfect.

No, I’m not quite a faculty member yet. Far from it, actually. I’m working on my PhD in Sociology. I would like to be a faculty member one day, somewhere. But I’m afraid, that’s a long way away. We will see. I can only hope and I know, I must work very hard to realize my dream.

For some reason, her presence, her words and her demeanour made me feel comfortable. So comfortable, that I didn’t have to think very much about what I was going to say.

I just said what I felt.

That’s great to hear. I know very well that doing a PhD is not a small thing. It requires a lot of determination and self discipline. I’m quite sure you’ll do well and go on to achieve great things. I’m sorry. May I ask you your name?

She answered.

My Chinese name is Yu Yan. My English name is Aurora Yan.

I spoke back to her and called her by her Chinese name.

Yu Yan, it’s very nice to meet you and to speak with you. Please, call me Paul.

Upon my words, she stood up. I could see that she was quite tall, which added very much to her beauty and elegance.

She replied, Well thank you Paul for sharing your research and ideas today. I’m sure others and not just myself, appreciate what you have to say.

She began gathering her things up that were on the table; her purse, a small briefcase and some note papers.

As she did this, she asked, Will you be teaching here again next term?

I stood up and answered.

I’m only here on a one-year contract. From the reaction I received today to my talk, I’m not sure now that I’ll be renewed. Since I finished my PhD, I’ve been going from one-year contracts to another at different universities. I’ve been doing this for over three years now. It seems the possibility of getting a tenure track position is quite small.

Putting on her blazer, she replied, Yes, I do know that the current academic job market is quite challenging. It must require great persistence and hard work.

She smiled and again, spoke in a poetic voice.

There is an ancient Chinese proverb that says, A gem is not polished without rubbing, nor a man perfected without trials.

I was very much taken aback by the beauty and wisdom of her words.

Then she paused for a moment, looked directly in to my eyes and said, However, I may know of something that you might be interested in. It’s an academic opportunity, but it’s in the private sector.

For some reason, I was quick to answer her.

That sounds interesting. I’m always open to academic opportunities, wherever they might be. Given my current situation, I’m actually more than interested.

Picking up the rest of her things from the table, she replied, I must hurry off to my class now. I will speak with someone I know about this academic position. Then I can tell you more about it. Are you free for coffee, say tomorrow afternoon? I could meet you at the main cafeteria on campus and we could talk more about it then.

I answered her, again without really thinking about what I was saying or why.

"Yes, I could meet you there.

She smiled. Right then Paul. I will see you tomorrow at noon.

Then she was gone, leaving me standing there alone in that empty room. I was not sure what to do. I thought about the presentation I had given, to an audience which wouldn’t be forgetting about me, anytime soon. Knowing also that I had probably ensured the demise of my academic career. On top of it all, I realized I had just met a woman who was intriguing and mysterious and wise, all in one sexy package and who might have an exciting opportunity for me.

With this, there was hope.

Without doubt it had been a very busy day for me and I decided then, what I should do. Picking up my briefcase and papers, I left the room and closed the door behind me. I headed to the Faculty Club where I could contemplate more fully, all that had occurred.

The Faculty Club was a place where faculty and university staff went to have lunch or dinner or have a few drinks in the lounge. It was a quiet and refined place. The manager was always standing by the front door to greet new arrivals. She was there this time, dressed in a business suit and she said hello to me, calling me by my first name.