Kelvin?came her question.
Standard International unit of thermodynamic temperature, he commented back.
Impossible to create conditions of absolute zero, she replied.Particles stop moving. Anyhow, we need them to be mobile for manipulation.
Laser cooling can chill atoms to 10 microkelvins, he answered.Functionally 0 kelvins, but some mobility remains.
An ellipsis dotted beneath his explanation, bubbling, stopping, and bubbling again. Then:
I hadn’t considered using lasers to cool matter instead of heat it. That works?
Yes.
I’ll stop researching cooling techniques and consult with Nadine about materials for optical lenses before she leaves. See? Time management.
Her cursor left the page before he could retort.
He frowned. But rather than leaving his office for a steadying cup of coffee, he reached for his sudoku calendar, inked his numbers, sketched a hurried constellation on a sticky note—a single dot of pigment caught under his thumbnail, but would anyone really notice such a tiny blemish?—then opened his manager’s preferred report template to draft proposals for hardware and literature review libraries. He submitted the document well in advance of Dr. Kramer’s deadline, even though its materials section was more theoretical than concrete: too busy transitioning into the power and bureaucracy of her deputy supervisory role for the Relativistic Mechanics group, or celebrating Fong’s departure over Sprinkles cupcakes and a Cowgirl Creamery cheese platter, Erin hadn’t contributed her recommendations by the earlier due date he’d set.
Dr. Kramer observed the materials shortcoming, of course.
“Well, Meyer?”
“Monaghan didn’t provide—”
“Did Monaghan submit this proposal?”
“No… I did.”
But during Wednesday’s work block, when they’d debated laser angles from opposite ends of the conference table, exchanging more virtual comments than live ones, had he actually told her of his intention to submit the plan early? He stood alone in Dr. Kramer’s office now, late on Thursday afternoon and under a stream of cold air venting from the ceiling before his supervisor’s immaculate, glass-topped desk.
Tap, went one of Dr. Kramer’s fingers.
“I’ll have a progress report by the end of next week,” he promised before the finger could descend a second time.
A nod, anticipating his assurance. “You’ll provide value, Meyer.”
“Yes.”
When he walked back past the bullpen to his own desk, Erin’s cubicle was dark, but a message from her was waiting on his screen.
Dr. Erin Monaghan
I reviewed our optics needs with Nadine. She had some insights on materials, and I’ve finished drafting my recommendations. Let’s discuss before submitting the charter tomorrow.
He cursed under his breath.
Dr. Ethan Meyer
I submitted it today.
Instantly, her profile icon went live.
Dr. Erin Monaghan
I said I was going to talk to Nadine about materials.
A screenshot of their earlier exchange zipped into the conversation. The data was irrefutable.
