Sep 15th, 2081
Richard shifted in his seat, feeling the cool, synthetic leather beneath him. The material seemed more rigid than he remembered. The first few moments were tranquil, like a hot air balloon gently lifting off. But with each passing second, the cube gained speed as it ascended. With nervous energy, he swiveled his seat back and forth.
He needed an outlet for his discomfort. "Have you figured out how to control this contraption?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to ward off an intrusive aroma. "The orange scent was pleasant on the last trip, but now it's just overwhelming. Any chance we could change it?"
Responding with actions rather than words, Brenda reached out into the void before her, her fingers deftly sweeping through the holographic interface. The cloying citrus scent that permeated the cabin quickly gave way to the earthy, sweet notes of Scottish heather. She watched Richard's reaction closely, knowing the aroma evoked memories from a gentler period in his life—a time steeped in maternal affection and the sound of carefree laughter.
Instantly, Richard's expression softened, his pale blue eyes closing for a moment as he breathed in deeply, visibly relaxed by the nostalgic fragrance. A grateful smile spread across his face, acknowledging the silent gift that so profoundly transported him home, if just for a moment. The simplicity of the gesture was a testament to Brenda's understanding of his inner world, another chapter in the rich narrative of their shared history.
Richard's queasiness had abated, and he was absorbed in the view from the window, watching the shrinking fortress, when Brenda's voice cut in. "Did you have fun cavorting with the Countess while I was slaving away?"
He weighed the nuance in her tone. Was it a twinge of jealousy, or was she needling him in jest? They both knew a dalliance with Helena could be mutually agreeable. Yet, the implicit inclusion of Magnus was a thoroughly unappealing caveat.
"You're aware that either of us would relish a liaison with Helena," Richard said, glancing at Brenda. "A twosome, perhaps, or even a ménage à trois, I'd agree in a heartbeat. But an affair that encompasses Magnus is a thought too discomforting to entertain." He chuckled, clearing the vivid imagery from his mind. "Can't you just imagine it? His majesty providing play-by-play commentary at our expense." They both shared a shudder and a smirk at the thought.
The cabin filled with Richard's quiet laughter as Brenda channeled the Count's voice, her parody punctuated by his distinctive Danish accent. "Can you picture it?" she began with exaggerated poise, "If you move up and to the left by 20 centimeters, you'll increase the pleasure yield by 14%... No. Just let me do it." The last words dissolved into irrepressible laughter, her giggles undermining her deadpan delivery.
It was one of those rare moments when vulnerability was wrapped in humor. He marveled at her ability to defang the discomfort with her levity.
Richard grimaced, half-smiling despite himself. "Enough, please—I'm desperately trying not to visualize it," he implored, the mental image all too vivid despite his protests.
Richard forced the unsettling image of a naked Magnus from his thoughts, quickly replacing it with the thought of Helena with her resplendent beauty on full display, beckoning him—a far more welcome visualization. He and Brenda maintained a relationship rooted in intellectual pursuit, with an open understanding that acknowledged the potential for extracurricular activities. Yet the unspoken truth was that Brenda's deepest infidelity was to her relentless drive for scientific discovery, her passion for their work far surpassing any carnal desire.
He had been given the same freedoms, but a part of him couldn't help but suspect that jealousy lay dormant under Brenda's composed surface. If he were ever to indulge in a tryst, he was sure that it would awaken something primal within her. Despite their agreed-upon liberties, those boundaries remained untested, uncharted territory that neither seemed inclined to explore. It was an understanding, a balance that had so far kept them in an unwavering orbit around each other.
Richard shuffled through his thoughts, reflecting on the contours of their long-standing arrangement. The latitude for romantic and physical exploration beyond their partnership was something he knew was necessary. Without such freedoms, he would undoubtedly feel caged, the inevitability of time's long march making a monogamous eternity seem daunting. Yet paradoxically, having the option available had anchored him, curiously eroding any pressing need to exercise it.
He understood that while the door was open, he didn't yearn to venture through it. Brenda was his constant in a cosmos of variables, and the work they shared was the gravitational pull that trumped lesser attractions. This phantom allowance acted as a safety valve, ensuring both had the space they might one day crave without the claustrophobia of relentless commitment. But for now, it sat in the background—an unclaimed ticket to an unknown destination they never quite decided to visit.
Basking in the warmth of his daydream, Richard lingered on the thought of Helena a moment longer before the quietness of the cabin nudged him back to the present. He sensed the need to fill the contemplative silence that had engulfed them.
"We each had our roles to play," he began, his tone taking on a more earnest timbre. "Yours, intimately intertwined with the project's core, remains shrouded in anticipation." There was a note of respect, almost reverence, in his voice as he spoke of her part in their work.
His face broke into a good-natured grin as he continued, "As for me, my task was to navigate the theatrics and tolerate the self-indulgent spectacle of his magnificence. Excessive opulence and a self-aggrandizing display so grand it could dwarf even his own castle's spires."
The ship hummed quietly through space, a patient audience to their exchange, as they lay in the aftermath of an encounter that had been as intellectually invigorating as it had been socially taxing. Richard's eyes held Brenda's, inviting her to share the secrets she'd unwrapped within the confines of Magnus's technological marvel.
He tilted his head toward her, a knowing look in his eyes. "Now, about the fruits of your labor with the 'Trådramme'..." His words trailed, an open invitation for her to share her conquests at the heart of Magnus's grand machine.
"Okay, I've avoided this because it's very dry, and I think you'll find it boring. Just bear in mind that the applications are huge. The problem I'm running into..." Brenda paused.
"Hold up," she continued, "you know that the more gravity you want to create over a bigger area requires more and more energy, right?"
"Yeah, there's a square root problem in there somewhere," Richard replied.
"More than one, actually, but yes. Well, I'm working on the nanobots, and you have the opposite problem. It takes so little energy to form a very small gravity well over a tiny area."
"Why does that sound like a good thing? I'm missing the problem," Richard remarked, seeking clarification.
Brenda tapped on her tablet for a minute, and then a projection appeared before Richard's eyes:
"Yoctojoule (yJ): 1 yJ = 10^-24 Joules
Vendojoule (vJ): 1 vJ = 10^-33 Joules"
She gave him a second to absorb the information. "I'm currently at the yoctojoule level, building nanobots that are the size of large molecules. Each wave of nanobots is programmed to make smaller versions of itself. The thing is, it uses gravity manipulation as both a power source and for movement and physical manipulations."
"I'm still missing the problem here," he said, trying to be mildly annoying. It gave him something to do other than feel stupid and bored.
"I'm getting there, I promise. Patience, my dear fellow. From where I'm at, as we go down to the next level, the nanobots either implode, malfunction, or simply fail to initialize. As we approach the size of atoms, the calculations for energy requirements fluctuate between rupturing the structural integrity and failing to initialize at all, depending on the rounding errors of the computer doing the calculations."
"Oh, OK. I get it now. So you needed a smarter computer. Couldn't it just be done by hand though?" Richard asked.
Brenda let out a chuckle. "You've seen Landsbury's constant. There are five irrational numbers in that alone, and that's just a small part of the formulas... Do you want to take each one to a billion places or so and do the math by hand? You're immortal, I'll come back in 100,000 years and see how you're doing on it," she replied.
Despite her laughter, Richard could see that Brenda was looking her 80 years. The trip, and the day at the castle - despite the 'kid in a candy store' aspect of working on the quantum computer - had depleted her.
"So, you've got measurements, but you won't know if they're within the ranges you need until you test them. Am I right?" Richard asked.
Brenda nodded her head in agreement.
"And you plan to go straight from this cube into the lab. No need to answer - I know you," Richard said, shaking his head. "But because of your stubbornness in delaying immortality, you're not a spring chicken anymore. Can I suggest a good night's sleep in your own bed and tackling this fresh in the morning?"
"But the implications...if the measurements--all the way down to the Vendojoule--are correct, I can make 'nano'bots that function as quarks. And from there, I can build up synthetic atoms, molecules, and essentially programmable matter," Brenda said, her excitement returning as she spoke.
Richard was thrown off his course of trying to get Brenda to rest as a dozen questions entered his brain at once. "How would you control something like that?" he asked.
"That's the beauty of it--you program one of your nano-level bots, and it crafts successively smaller versions of itself until it reaches the level you want and then starts replicating with the payload of the desired programming. But the chain of bots is just one; technically, it could even cannibalize the upper levels for building materials on the way down until it reaches the desired level. Easypeasy," Brenda replied, her excitement palpable.
"Careful, you're gonna think your way out of a job," Richard teased.
"Actually, I think I've just created job security for life," Brenda replied with a laugh.
"Then you're not in a race with anyone. Promise me you'll take the rest of the day off and rest. And while you're doing that, reflect on taking the time to get immortalized," Richard said, returning to his earlier suggestion.
Brenda glared at him, but he was pretty sure she would take the nap and attack the problem fresh in the morning.
As if Magnus was even now still showing off, the cube came to rest in the exact patch of squashed grass that it had landed in two days before. And they weren't more than a half dozen steps away from the craft when it floated off into the air, unmanned, presumably to return to its owner.
Brenda felt a sense of exhaustion deep in her bones. She knew that she wouldn't be able to fall asleep until she saw whether the new measurements would yield any results and trigger a revolutionary change. Despite her determination, she recognized that her fatigue could lead to errors. Therefore, she made the tough decision to try and rest.
"Alright Richard, I give in. I'll attempt to sleep if you talk to Pooka and arrange for her to meet me in the lab at 9:00 AM."
Richard appeared surprised that Brenda didn't resist further, smiled, and nodded, gently patting her hand.