Chapter 1: Exotic Physics
Location: White Hall, Eberly College of Arts & Sciences, West Virginia University, Morgantown, WV Campus
I stepped out of the PRT car and leaned against a turnstile, pushing it forward to exit the station. West Virginia University's Personal Rapid Transit monorail system was a convenient way to travel between campuses and off-campus student housing—but those metal turnstile rods were incredibly cold in the winter. I'd left my gloves somewhere, and there was zero chance I was going to touch that heatsink with my bare skin.
I adjusted my backpack and shoved my hands back into my denim pockets. It was common to see other students brisk-walking on the really cold days, and I was no exception. Thankfully, my apartment wasn't too far away from the station.
I had answered an ad for a grad student roommate to share a 2-bedroom above a noodle shop a little more than two years ago. The restaurant's heating kept our utilities low in winter and made for convenient food runs on long days. I went through a side entrance, which had an outer door to the street, climbed one flight of stairs, and unlocked the apartment door. There, I found Ellie relaxed on our second-hand couch, petting my little goddess of a cat, Nephthys (a.k.a. Nephy).
My backpack dropped off of my shoulder and thumped onto the scratched wooden floor. I did the same and flopped onto the other end of the couch.
I waited to warm up before I bothered to remove my coat and scarf. And I sighed.
"So… How did it go," Ellie asked in a knowing, sing-song voice. Her at-home-only glasses fit her face perfectly and matched her straight back hair.
"They looked at me like I violated the Roche limit," I said as I lazily turned my head in Ellie's direction.
"Lon, I'm gonna assume that means something like 'they looked at you like you had three heads'."
I nodded.
"This was your… what did you call it?"
"Spatial Pinhole Theory," I said as I started to unwrap my scarf. "The Department Head said it was too sci-fi and as a thesis, it would get rejected before I could defend it."
"Harsh," Ellie said and held out a purring Nephy with her tortie-patterned dark fur to serve as my emotional support animal.
"You supervised my paper, didn't you Nephy," I said as I set her in my lap to help warm up my thighs. "Why didn't you tell me how badly it sucked?"
"I don't understand any of it. I mean… It's like me trying to explain how to perform a Whipple surgery. But I know you worked hard on it," Ellie said as she put her elbow on the back of the couch and leaned into her hand. "And… I think I know what will cheer you up…" Ellie said, revising her sing-song voice.
I groaned. "When?"
Ellie and I knew each other so well at this point that I understood when she used that tone; it meant that her big brother was coming over with a case of beer. And that assumption was verified not more than five minutes later when her phone buzzed with a text from him saying he was outside and needed someone to open the door for him.
Ellie started to get up, and I waved my hands at her. "I still have my coat on. I'll go." I handed Nephy back to her and pretended to lumber like a sulking child toward the door.
Ellie laughed and called out, "Best. Roomie. Ever."
I hopped down the stairs and jumped the last step to land on both feet. Looking through the peephole, I saw the fisheye lens version of Ellie's brother Dan. But behind him, I saw another familiar face. Both men were dancing in place to keep warm and since there was an unannounced guest, I let them hop around a little more.
"I heard you come down the stairs, Lonna. Don't be a brat," Dan said through the door with a chuckle. The other man, Marcus, my ex-boyfriend said something inaudible to Dan and then they both laughed.
I opened the door with a fast motion and feigned innocence. "Oh my… unexpected guests must pay a toll."
"One bottle," Dan said as held up the case of beer.
I shook my head.
"I know you can't drink more than two, so I suppose I can double my offer."
"Dan passes," I said as I leaned up against the wall to give him room to get by and start up the stairs.
"What about me?" Marcus asked.
"I suppose I should just be happy Dan was able to make a friend," I said like a concerned parent. "So I guess that makes you Dan's plus one."
He gave me his signature sheepish smile that always broke the tension no matter what we were arguing about. So I shooed him to the stairs and motioned for him to climb.
"You should go first," Marcus offered.
"Oh no, Marc. Your toll is that you will climb the stairs self-consciously because you know I'll be looking at your ass."
Marcus laughed in his familiar deep voice that always brought comfort. "It's good to see you, too, Lon." Then he ran up the stairs, three steps at a time and had cleared all of them before I finished securing the door. He turned and looked down at me with a mischievous grin. "Guess I still owe you a toll."
————————————————————————————
Location: Apartment above the noodle shop, Morgantown, WV
When I woke the next morning, I felt Marcus's breath on my neck and his arms around me in my bed. We had one of those relationships that started really hot and then fizzled out when we both got busier and busier. And then he took a job in California where a 3000-mile relationship seemed impractical. So we fell into a Friends With … Cuddles relationship.
I figured I could slip out of bed and let him sleep on Pacific Time, but he pulled me closer and grunted like a caveman. I couldn't help but giggle and then wiggled around until I could face him.
His dark brown hair was disheveled and I could see him struggling to open his hazel eyes. He eventually lost and spoke with his eyes closed. "Lon, I'd like you to meet with someone."
I rolled my eyes, then decided to tease him a little. "Does this mean you're going to be my wingman?"
"Never," he whispered.
Yet, when he opened his eyes, his face was stoic like a switch had been flipped off, and he was back in work-mode. "My boss has read your abstracts and whatever research he could find. He is very interested in spatial anomalies."
"Well, he'd be the only one," I scoffed.
"Lon, he actually flew us both out here just so I could ask you to meet with him."
"Wait. He's here? In Morgantown?"
Marcus nodded as if it should have been obvious to me.
"Way to bury the lede, you jerk." I said it half-heartedly as I sat up. But still, it made me nervous. "Yeah. I think I'll pass."
Marcus looked at me with an expression that was part stunned and part disappointed. "Why?"
"I was just told by my faculty advisor yesterday that my doctoral thesis was pretty much a fairytale."
I wrapped myself in a fluffy cardigan and put on a second pair of socks. "Your boss probably lost a bet or something," I continued. "Or he's curious what kind of crackpot has been trying to sell a theory on spatial pinhole plausibility."
I picked up some of the clothes that had been tossed on the floor the evening before. "I think my pride needs a little break before it takes another hit."
But Marcus just chuckled softly and helped to tidy the room. "Julian is too busy to fly across the country because he lost a bet."
Dismissively, I sighed and said, "Whatever. What would I even wear to a meeting with someone like that?"
"He's not interested in your questionable fashion sense. He's interested in your theories." Marcus opened the wardrobe closet in the corner of my room and grabbed a towel like he'd done a hundred times before. "It sounds like Ellie and Dan are already up, so I'm gonna grab a shower while it's free."
"Hey! What do you mean by my 'questionable fashion sense'?" But then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror with my messy hair poking out from under my striped toboggan, which I had apparently worn to bed. With it was a dark blue over-sized t-shirt with the text: "Fold Space, Not Laundry." Over that was my olive-colored sherpa cardigan. And the ensemble was completed with some off-white, knee-high, cable-knit socks and my fluffy maroon second pair of ankle-high socks (which I referred to as my "over socks").
I shrugged. "Looks fine to me."
————————————————————————————
Location: Eat N Park Restaurant, Morgantown, WV
A couple of hours later, we walked into a chain restaurant called Eat'n Park. I had spent too many nights there taking advantage of unlimited coffee while I exhausted the battery (and the portable backup battery) on my laptop. I looked around and saw several other student study groups and laptop users and felt even more nervous.
"Are you sure he is okay with this?" I looked up at Marcus anxiously, despite it being his recommendation.
"He seemed to like the idea when I texted it to him," Marcus assured me. "Perhaps he wants to relive his college days."
I suddenly pictured a silver-haired CEO, pretending to be like kids these days. "How old is he?"
"32," said a confident and commanding voice from behind us.
Marcus chuckled and turned to greet his boss. "Lonna, this is Julian Vane."
A striking man with dark hair and grey eyes stood before me in a light blue sweater peaking out from beneath a navy pea coat and tailored black pants. I was afraid to even look at his shoes, assuming the shine would blind me. What I knew for sure was that he would fit right in modeling men's wear.
He held out his hand. "You must be Lonna. Marcus has told me nearly nothing about you."
"Lonna Patricks," I said quietly. I shook Julian's hand awkwardly, suddenly very aware that under my white puffy coat, I was wearing a black oversized t-shirt with some wormhole meta-humor text: "It's Always a Pencil."
"Looks like a table is ready for us," Marcus announced and gestured that I should go first.
Great. Now I am nervous about how weird I look from behind. He's getting me back for that comment I made at the stairs yesterday.
And with that thought, I followed the host to a booth. Heat was coming off of my face, knowing Julian was behind me. I even forgot how I usually walked. But eventually I could slide into a booth, sandwiched between a wall and Marcus.
Marcus and I went with coffee (mine decaf because my adrenaline was already going full throttle). Julian ordered some hot tea. Then both of the men removed their coats while I stubbornly kept mine on like a protective cocoon.
Is he going to think it is weird that I am keeping my coat on? I mean, I am generally cold. But I'm suddenly so self-conscious that my hands feel like they can no longer hold warmth and my fingernails are turning purple. Are they going to think it is weird that I am suddenly staring at my hands?
"Lon?" Marcus and Julian had been chatting about something, but I had completely missed all of it.
"I'll be fine once I warm myself on some coffee," I said, guessing that Marcus was concerned that I was still bundled up and my fingers were losing blood flow. But.. I guessed wrong.
Marcus chuckled, and it was clear both men were expecting some other response from me. "Actually, Julian was asking why you decided to research spatial anomalies."
"Oh, I uhm…" I looked at Marcus, wondering if it was okay to actually share the truth. Luckily, we were interrupted by the arrival of our drinks. But that was followed by the next obstacle: ordering food.
What do I get? I can't hork down a mountain of food in front of him. What are they ordering? Marc is getting a rueben like he used to get here all of the time. Of course, he is. What do I usually get? I can't remember. But it's cold. I'm cold. So… soup? Soup feels safe.
"The clam chowder, please." Triumphant in my decision, I handed the menu over to the server.
But then she had to ask, "Did you want a cup or a bowl?"
My brain short-circuited.
How could I possibly decide? If I get the cup, I'll finish too soon, and it will be awkward that I am just waiting around for them to eat. So I should get a bowl, right? But if I get a bowl, it will cool faster and I will have to force myself to finish it when the height of clammy-ness has passed over into rubbery, chewy…
"Lon…?" Then I heard Marcus sigh. "She'll take the bowl." I could see him looking at me with an expression saying "What is with you?"
I cautiously looked over at Julian and saw him smiling warmly at me.
After the server left, I started to nurse my coffee. That's when Marcus decided to say the following: "Let's just get this out of the way. Julian, Lonna and I used to date, and we're still very good friends. Lon, I know that Julian is very handsome, but you need to snap out of it."
Of course, that made me cough, which made my eyes water, which made my nose run, which made me cough some more…
Julian added, "I think I am considered more 'hot' than handsome."
"I can see it. You do have that kind of vibe about you. You could definitely be my type."
What are these two even talking about? It was like watching a rom-com movie scene.
And that is when I realized that Marc was just trying to get me to relax and participate in the conversation. We both knew that once I started talking about my theory, I would overcome my awkwardness. I squeezed his thigh lightly under the table to say thanks, and smiled at how silly I was being. I unzipped my puffer jacket, then took a deep breath and said, "Anime."
Julian asked, "What?" But Marcus smiled and looked down, trying to stifle a laugh.
"You asked why I chose to look into theories for spatial anomalies. It was anime."
"You're going to have to explain that answer a little more," Julian said, also smiling, but confused.
I took a deep breath and began to explain. "I liked to watch anime growing up. And a portal to another world is a common trope. So I started looking into if portals or wormholes were even plausible—to another world or even to another room. Of course, I ran into theoretical issues like spaghettification and stability, how to generate negative energy… stuff like that."
Julian nodded his head slightly as I continued to ramble excitedly.
"Then I thought instead of trying to create a wormhole to use as a portal, it might be easier to simply look for and exploit existing spatial pinholes that may, hypothetically, already exist."
Julian thought for a moment and then summarized what he thought he heard. "So you based your research on fantastical works of fiction?"
"On the plausibility of creating a bridge from point A to point B if we were able to find a spatial anomaly as tiny as even a pinhole—or even the size of a subatomic particle— as a starting point," I clarified.
Marcus looked at me proudly.
"I think we should do it," Julian said with a determined face.
I blinked a few times. "Do what?"
"I think we should create a system to detect spatial anomalies and see if they actually exist," Julian declared.
"Oh… no, it's just a theory. Even my advisors think…"
"They have agreed to let me fund your research as a fellowship," Julian said.
"They… my… wait. What?"
Both Julian and Marcus chuckled. I looked at Marcus in disbelief. "Marc, did you know about this?"
Marcus responded with a big grin.
"This… I don't know. This sounds a little too good to be true. Are you sure you're not confusing me with someone else?"
"It's you, Lon. Someone actually wants to invest in one of your crazy theories," Marcus said.
"That somehow sounded more like an insult than assurance, Marc."
"Well, there are some conditions," Julian added.
As we continued to chat, Julian disclosed that the funding would require that I relocate to Silicon Valley to be closer to his company's research and development resources. I would also need to sign an NDA and non-compete contract to work at his company's "skunkworks" (secret) division.
There were several other general conditions and that didn't include any additional conditions that might be added after legal review of a contract. It was all a bit overwhelming.
"I need some time to think about it," I responded, already running through lists of things I would have to check.
Julian nodded. "I'll be here until the end of the week. I got roped into some guest lectures. But if you need more time, I can give you until the end of the month."
"That's only two weeks away," I responded.
Julian gave a knowing smile with a hint of satisfaction. "Your soup is getting cold."
I hadn't even noticed that my clam chowder was sitting in front of me. I looked down at it and then at the spoon that was served with it.
Shit. I am really clumsy with soup spoons. I'm going to be spilling this chowder all over my t-shirt. Why did I order the soup?!