I sighed heavily, returning to the Status Room to work on the eting.
Beside , Dad looked concerned. "You ok, Tim?"
"Yeah, I’ll be ok. It’s just a lot, you know. I an what maybe four weeks ago, I thought running for Selectman in a little town in Massachusetts was a huge step and maybe too much for a kid like . Since then, I’ve crushed giant drug cartels, converted one trafficking gang to work for good, literally killed most of another, threatened to replace a sitting President, thwarted CIA infiltrations, captured a heavily ard terrorist group without a shot being fired, watched a man have his heart bypassed by dexterous little machine arms with rubber tubes and artificial blood, earned literally countless dollars in cryptomining and stock market trading, traded away the rights to reproduce dozens of Earth plants and extracts, decided to refuse the protection of the Galactic Empire knowing that super high tech alien raiders are waiting to ’harvest’ our planet, and even spent so ti considering ddling in interdinsional experints that might destroy not just our universe, but multiple universes..."
Dad smiled and took into his arms for a hug. "Oh, Tim. Look, it’s only been maybe 30 days. Who knows how much more you can do in the next 30 days now that you are starting to understand how to use all this alien technology and getting so real world experience under your belt. I an the sky’s the limit... Well, I guess it’s not the limit since you have intergalactic travel as an option... Maybe there’s no limit at all?"
I knew he was half joking, but everything he said was true. Was there any limit to what I could do? There were certainly powerful people and groups that would try to stop , but what if they couldn’t? I sighed again, "That’s not helping, Dad," I said shaking my head.
"I know, kiddo, I know," Dad said, then he leaned down, adjusted his arms around and picked up the Supre Ruler of the Entire Earth Solar System and Nearby Space. I wrapped my arms around him tightly and buried my head against his shoulder. "I’m here for you no matter what happens, no matter what you decide. If you want to walk away and disappear, I’ll disappear with you, no problem, no judgent."
"Maybe soday I’ll take you up on that," I said. "But not today. I’ve started a train rolling down a steep, winding track. It’s full of passengers and it’s gathering speed. If I don’t stay on board to drive it, it’ll fly off the rails. Even if it makes it down the mountain, without soone there to put on the brakes, it’ll crash into the station. It’ll just be mayhem and carnage, Dad," I said, trying to lighten the mood.
"All right, your call," he said, leaning over to put down. "Yikes, either you’re getting heavy or it’s all those burdens you’re carrying.
"Funny," I said sarcastically.
"Just rember, son, if you ever just need a hug, Mom and I are here for you." Suddenly, I felt better, as if Dad had not only lifted , but lifted all the weight off .
"If you two can possibly take so ti away from planning your escape, Tim has an incoming phone call," Joe announced, "From Dean Michaels at UMass Amherst."
I smiled, "About ti! OK, Joe, put him through."
"Ok, connection is live... now."
"Hello Dean, this is Tim. How are you today?" I began.
"Hello, Tim. I’m doing quite well, thank you. I hope you are also well?"
"Absolutely Dean, I’m feeling like King of the World," I winked at Dad. "I should let you know that you’re on speaker phone, my father Dan is here as well."
"Good afternoon, Dean Michaels," Dad called out.
"Dan, hello. It’s good to speak with you. I’d like to thank you again for the very generous donation. And after the interview with Tim, I’d like to thank you for sending him to us. I am deeply sorry that I had a sudden urgent matter to attend to during our scheduled appointnt ti. Professor Donaldson, who is here with now, also on speaker phone, however, was quite... overwheld by Tim’s straightforward focus and by the work he shared."
Dad laughed aloud, "I’ll bet he was. Honestly, I don’t understand all the heavy math myself, Tim said he’s had to develop new thods to work out the logical progression of so of his theories."
"Indeed. Professor Donaldson is one of our best, and he is quite impressed with the work young Tim presented. Tim, you say that the equation and diagrams you shared are your own work?"
I winked at Dad, "Yes, I worked that bit out on my sumr vacation this year. I also built a really cool treehouse in the backyard."
Dad rolled his eyes, and silently slapped his forehead. I grinned.
"Is that so?" Dean Michaels responded with far too much enthusiasm, "Perhaps Professor Donaldson and I can visit so ti and you can show us your treehouse. I do hope, however, that you don’t show it to anyone from an Architectural Program or they’re likely to steal you away from us." He chuckled at his own joke.
"Does that an you’ve decided to accept my offer, Dean?" I asked.
"Yes... well, provisionally. We’d like to have you take a look at so of the work Professor Donaldson has been doing and give us your thoughts on his approach. After that, assuming there are no unexpected problems, we would make our offer permanent."
"I see," I replied, "basically, you don’t believe it’s my work, but whatever the source, it’s too good to dismiss. If I can’t follow Donaldson’s work, then there’s no way this could be mine, but perhaps, confronted with that fact, I’ll divulge the real source. Does that sum up your position, Dean?"
"Well, I..." he sputtered before Professor Donaldson’s voice cut him off.
"I told him not to get cute with a provisional offer, I did. But since he was too busy to et you himself, he wouldn’t take my word for your... for the fact that... well, you seem like soone who is... different enough to work out sothing like this."
Dean Michaels quickly recovered his composure, "What I an is that we need to assess your strengths so we can assign you an appropriate course of study. So often with talented young people we find that while they may have extraordinary talents in one area, they simply have not yet had ti to round out their education and may be behind other college students in so subject areas. By spending a little ti, we can better assess the breadth or specificity of young Tim’s knowledge."
"Oh, is that the issue? Well, either way, I will be happy to correct Professor Donaldson’s papers. I am rather busy at the mont though, would you mind sending the material in question by email and I’ll have a look. Once I’ve had a little ti to read through it and think about his work in depth, we can schedule a eting and conduct the assessnt. Surely, you don’t an for to co in and review such complex work in a matter of minutes."
"Of course, of course. We can do that can’t we, Professor?" Dean Michaels asked.
"Yes, I’ll send a link to the relevant material right now," Donaldson agreed, "I’m quite interested to see how you would approach it, Tim."
"Great!" I replied, "The other thing is that the state is going to require to attend the fourth grade in two weeks, and I’m afraid I won’t have ti for both..."
"Fourth..." Dean Michaels trailed off. "I think an enrollnt here will take care of that, I’ll have my secretary take care of the necessary paperwork. With your father’s permission, of course."
"Yes, absolutely." Dad agreed.
"Oh, tell Kathy I said ’hello,’ Dean. I t her on my visit to your office the other day. She was very pleasant and professional, a credit to your institution."
"Yes, well, of course." Dean Michaels replied as Joe inford that the link was received and the material was basic stuff that led to a dead end because Earth’s current understanding of mathematics did not allow a full understanding of the perturbations of massless particles and the conditions which allowed them to switch between their normal states and states in which they ’acquired’ the property of mass.
"Oh, I’ve received your link Professor, I think I can help you get past the issue that seems to be confounding your further progress. Shall we schedule sothing for Thursday morning to go over it?"
"Thursday... You read it already?" He asked.
"I read fast. I credit Dad for reading stories when I was little..." I winked at Dad.
"Yes, well... let check my calendar..."
"Professor Donaldson will be available Thursday morning at your convenience, Tim," Dean Michaels interjected. "Just drop a note to Kathy and she will make the arrangents. Would you like us to arrange a car to pick you up?"
"That won’t be necessary," I said, "I’m working on a teleportation machine that I’d like to try out."
There was a silence...
"I’m kidding, Dean! Just a little joke... It probably won’t be ready by then..." Dad snorted, unable to hold in his mirth.
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