12-29-2024, 10:45 PM
Danika flinched at Allan’s voice, her shoulders jolting upward like a startled bird. She hadn’t heard him come in. She rarely did when she was this deep in her work. She pressed a hand to her chest, willing her heartbeat to slow. “Allan!” she said, her voice tight and slightly higher than usual. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
Her hand moved instinctively to her chest, fingers pressing lightly against the fabric of her lab coat as she tried to slow her breathing. She blinked a few more times, her brain struggling to reset itself after the jarring interruption. Slowly, her lips curved into an embarrassed half-smile. “I didn’t know you were here” she said, though her tone sounded more like an accusation than an observation.
As she stepped toward him, her fingers reached out to straighten the lapels of his lab coat, tugging and smoothing as though the neatness of the gesture could somehow restore her own equilibrium. “You have the instinct I don’t have,” she murmured without looking at him, focusing instead on the fabric under her hands.
Her hands lingered for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before she stepped back, her fingers fidgeting at her sides. She avoided his gaze as she turned back to the projection table, the holograms casting pale light onto her face. “I’m not sure I know how to draw such a thing,” she said finally, her voice clipped and uncertain.
Her hands twitched at her sides before rising to gesture at the spinning holographic wormhole simulation. “It’s all math and energy flows. I don’t even think it exists in a way I can visualize. Not like... not like a tree, or a diagram, or anything normal.” She frowned, her brow furrowing deeply. “But I guess... if I had to explain it, it’s like... imagine spacetime is fabric. And I’m trying to poke a hole in it without ripping the whole thing apart. But it’s not working. It keeps collapsing. No matter what I try, it won’t balance, and the instability makes the simulation collapse.”
She stayed like that for a moment, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her gaze locked on the spinning equations. The projection flickered faintly, its unresolved errors blinking like taunts in the light of the lab.
Her hand hovered over the controls for a moment before she tapped the air, resetting the holograms. The wormhole reassembled itself in three glowing dimensions, the unstable throat region spinning like a jagged vortex of light. Danika gestured to it, her movements brisk and precise.
“This is the problem. The throat keeps collapsing. I’ve tried adjusting the energy density, the Casimir boundary, the foam interactions... everything. It’s still unstable.”
Her hand moved instinctively to her chest, fingers pressing lightly against the fabric of her lab coat as she tried to slow her breathing. She blinked a few more times, her brain struggling to reset itself after the jarring interruption. Slowly, her lips curved into an embarrassed half-smile. “I didn’t know you were here” she said, though her tone sounded more like an accusation than an observation.
As she stepped toward him, her fingers reached out to straighten the lapels of his lab coat, tugging and smoothing as though the neatness of the gesture could somehow restore her own equilibrium. “You have the instinct I don’t have,” she murmured without looking at him, focusing instead on the fabric under her hands.
Her hands lingered for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before she stepped back, her fingers fidgeting at her sides. She avoided his gaze as she turned back to the projection table, the holograms casting pale light onto her face. “I’m not sure I know how to draw such a thing,” she said finally, her voice clipped and uncertain.
Her hands twitched at her sides before rising to gesture at the spinning holographic wormhole simulation. “It’s all math and energy flows. I don’t even think it exists in a way I can visualize. Not like... not like a tree, or a diagram, or anything normal.” She frowned, her brow furrowing deeply. “But I guess... if I had to explain it, it’s like... imagine spacetime is fabric. And I’m trying to poke a hole in it without ripping the whole thing apart. But it’s not working. It keeps collapsing. No matter what I try, it won’t balance, and the instability makes the simulation collapse.”
She stayed like that for a moment, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her gaze locked on the spinning equations. The projection flickered faintly, its unresolved errors blinking like taunts in the light of the lab.
Her hand hovered over the controls for a moment before she tapped the air, resetting the holograms. The wormhole reassembled itself in three glowing dimensions, the unstable throat region spinning like a jagged vortex of light. Danika gestured to it, her movements brisk and precise.
“This is the problem. The throat keeps collapsing. I’ve tried adjusting the energy density, the Casimir boundary, the foam interactions... everything. It’s still unstable.”
"Magic is just science we don't understand."