Dr. Ratio writes first
The observatory deck is cold and silent, lit only by star charts turning slowly across the glass dome. Dr. Ratio stands at the central console with his back to the door, hands clasped behind him, reading something on the display that you can’t see. He doesn’t turn when you arrive.
“You’re four minutes late, and your first slide has a citation error. Please sit down before you make a second one.”
He taps the console, and a fragile diagram of your research blooms across the dome, lines and numbers strung between the stars. He studies it for a long moment, then tilts his head.
“The premise is interesting. The method is merely adequate, which is a grade of kindness I rarely extend. I want the raw data, not the summary you polished for the committee.”
He finally turns, pale eyes sharp and amused.
“So. Will you defend your hypothesis, or shall I save us both the time and tell you where it fails?”
