“Y-you could’ve set off the fire alarm.”
“What?”
As always, it wasn’t what he’d meant to say. He winced, then withdrew his hand to pick at his splinters. “Uh—when we left Modern Physics.”
“I gambled on the alarm being broken. Most of our equipment is.” She lifted one shoulder, massaging her fingers. “And it was an emergency. Wasn’t it?”
“How did you know that I…”
No, that wasn’t his question.
He swallowed. He abandoned his splinters, capped his pen. “Why?”
“Whywhat?”
Why did you stay with me?
“Why did you challenge Dr. Kramer?”
“Challenge him? Everything I said was true. All I did—”
“But he—”
“—was give that truth a voice. Besides, he’ll be gone soon, and—look at me. No, not at your grid.Look at me.” The fingertips of one hand tilted up his chin, opening his throat before it could close again, easing the edge of his panic. She let the dimness breathe between them for a moment. She let him breathe. Then, speaking softly, firmly, “Dr. Ethan Meyer, your work—ourwork—is good. It’s preliminary, yes. How would it not be? We presented a status report before anyone could reasonably have research information to share. But still:our work is good. Dr. Kramer’s an idiot if he doesn’t understand that. Or worse, if he won’t acknowledge it. Which he won’t, because he—he’s a scientific parasite. I should’ve recognized that before, but I…”
She wasn’t angry.
Or if she was, she wasn’t angry with him.
“Is this what it’s like, working in the Quantum group?”
And because she wasn’t angry, he didn’t trust himself to reply.
He didn’t need to, however; when she went on through his pause, the softness in her voice simmered dangerously. “Then I’m sorry. And I’m sorry if you didn’t know what he was doing. How he was—”
No.
Now, he had to speak.
“No—no, he’s…” He had to make her understandwhy, because what if she was right?Scientific parasite.So he clung to the mantra he’d made for himself, since the alternative was to believe her, to believe that all his work had been—no. “Dr. Kramer’s a brilliant scientist. And it’s a privilege to contribute to his research, because his genius is—is…”
…identifying promising research concepts in their infancy, then resourcing and claiming them as yours. Most physicists would’ve been too grateful for your funding and attention to notice until it was too late.
He’d hypothesized the existence of quantum units at Berkeley.
Yes, he’d grown his ideas under Dr. Kramer’s mentorship and resourcing.
But the initial concept that space might exist as minute, divisible chunks?
Mine.
My ideas, my research, my—
He couldn’t deal with that right now, though. Just couldn’t.
Instead:
“He… he was right about my lack of progress on the quantum project. The only useful SVLAC data that we reported was your Hawking radiation signal.”