“When we were first assigned to the quantum gravity project, Nadine told us that there might be more common ground between our work than we thought. She was right. And I…” She fiddled with the edge of her pillowcase. “I thinkwemight be more similar than we realized, too. Which sounds ridiculous, because we come at everything from very different angles, but—a coin has two sides. An atom has a positive and a negative charge. The universe is built from opposing and inseparable units. Maybe, just like our physics theories, those units aren’t all irreconcilable…”
Dodging a swinging cabinet door, Martina began to laugh.
“Fine. You’ve convinced me. Because the only two hyper-competitive, workaholic, over-caffeinated, data-obsessed, wildly oblivious, oat-milk-swilling, beautiful people whom I can ever imagine applying universal laws to justify falling in love are Dr. Erin Monaghan and Dr. Ethan Meyer. And I want the full story of how you finally figured yourselves out, but,” sobering, returning to her chair to flip open a fresh page in her notebook, “this isn’t the time.”
Love.
Did she love him?
That was the question.
But it shouldn’t have been.
It wasn’t a question at all.
Martina readied a pencil. “What’s the exact wording of the email about your paper?”
Yes.
She cleared her throat.Later, she’d manage that later, after…
“I received it just after seven o’clock tonight. Four hours ago, and about twenty-two hours after I spoke to Dr. Kramer.” She swiped her thumb over Martina’s face to minimize their video window while she accessed her inbox, and revealed a push notification hidden by the call:
Journal of Supermassive Astronomy and Astrophysics:
Re: Submission Update
She frowned.
“What is it?”
“The… the journal sent another email.”
“What does it say?”
Dr. Erin Monaghan,
“Investigating the Impact of Tidal Disruption Events on the Axis Rotation of Galaxies Proximal to Black Holes” has been cleared for publication.
Regards,
Dr. Ronald Sams, Editor-in-Chief
“Uh.” The short, stark sentence made no sense. There was also no way to misunderstand it. “The journal’s going to print my paper in September.”
“The reviewers didn’t find your nonexistent fraud?”
“It doesn’t say anything about reviewers, or my data, or scientific misconduct, just that I’m reinstated. Which is… clearly, I’m…” She floundered.Happy? Relieved? Confused. “Why, though?How?”
But that wasn’t a question, either.
Ethan.
He must’ve done—something. Something brave and foolish, and if he’d torpedoed his career to get her paper published in this stupid journal—
“You know.”Tap, went Martina’s pencil. “Don’t you?”
“I—I need to talk to him.”
