“I think we solved it.” I spoke out loud for the first time in thirty-odd hours, my voice raspy due to dehydration.
In front of me, a blueprint was displayed on the screen, or rather, I saw it as a blueprint. Most other people probably would not recognise it as one, it had none of the normal features one would expect, for one, it did not display anything ordinarily thought of as technology. On the screen was a complex crystal, made from the same substance that I grew my energy crystals from and manipulated to grow in a very specific manner, with slight imperfections crafted to operate just as I wanted.
During the night, I finally had the epiphany needed to crack the problem I had been working on. Well, not quite crack, the problem that I had been unable to miniaturize the necessary computing and energy-storage parts remained but I had managed to design a microbot without them, making them no longer necessary.
The solution was rather simple, if I made parts of the crystal just right and applied correctly modulated microwave-radiation, I got an electric charge within the crystal, allowing me to supply energy from the outside, making energy-storage unnecessary. Once that was solved and I knew I needed the radiation-source for the microbots to work, it was obvious to add a receiver that allowed me to add simple commands to the microprocessor of a singular microbot. It would require Galatea running on either a mainframe or my super-desktop to efficiently control enough microbots to work in a way I wanted them to, but that was something I had.
It was not quite what I had set out to create but it was close enough to allow me quite a few interesting applications. For one, a microbot swarm was about the ultimate surface-scanner, putting anything into the swarm and I was able to get a scan into the molecular level, detecting any imperfection.
Or, if I put the necessary materials into the swarm and provided Galatea with the schematic, molecular level manufacturing should be in the realm of possibility. At least in theory.
When integrating the new ideas with the previous idea I had for a microprocessor, I would be able to combine the two into a tiny single element, maybe the size of two specks of dust. If I added microfilaments that could be controlled with applied electricity, I would have tiny manipulating units and could use them to do precision work I could not do, not with current level manufacturing. Not that current level manufacturing could easily create what I had in mind, I would have to get creative for that.
My mind started to get a little blurry, hours upon hours without sleep, food or drink could get to a body. A quick look at the clock told me that it was already Sunday night, so I grabbed a couple of protein bars and a bottle of water I had stored in my workshop for emergencies and started my way back to my dorm, eating and drinking on the walk. I was still unsure how to deal with Tanisha, my anger had cooled from an incandescent blaze to just a smoldering heat, but I was not sure I would not take her head off, if she got into my face and I was just too tired for that.
When I got back to the dorm, she was out, probably getting drunk again, so I just showered and got into bed. Hopefully, she would not raise a stink in the middle of the night, or I was liable to commit homicide.
The next morning, I woke up at my usual pre-dawn time and Tanisha was softly snoring in the bed next to mine, dead to the world, so I went about my day, heading to the gym first and giving a nod to the trainer who had stopped the sparring Saturday morning. He was at the front-desk, just watching things in case people needed help. In addition, I paid a little attention to the other people in the gym and saw quite a few people take short glimpses at me, when they thought I was not looking. It was a rather funny, even if I was not happy with the increased scrutiny. I could not help but prick up my ears, catching snippets of conversation around me. Gathering them, I got a rough idea of the conversations going on around me, most were unrelated to me, but the few related to me, were slightly disturbing in one way or the other, either people were saying that they wanted to be stepped on by me, or that they were scared of me, believing that I was some sort of deranged maniac.
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I decided that there was no way to change public perception easily, so I applied a skill I had perfected for years, before ever becoming Metis, never mind Diana Hunt. I ignored them, projecting an aloof facade and going on with my day. I was a King, so what did I care what the plebeians thought, was the thought that I needed for that facade.
When I got to classes, I was still a little out of sort and both, Nisha and Mina, noticed.
“Good morning, Diana. You look like your weekend left a lot to be desired.” Nisha greeted me with a hug.
“Why don’t you say it, she looks like her coffee-machine broke.” Mina joked, they both knew my reliance on a good cup of coffee in the morning, even if they had never seen me without.
“Good morning to you, too. And, no, I had my coffee.” I answered, not quite in the mood for jokes.
“Oh, good, I was afraid it would be a cold day in hell.”
“Don’t be mean, Mina. Diana seems to have had a bad weekend so after class, we will go to the Coffee Club and she can tell us all about it.” Nisha laid down the law and both Mina and I knew that there was no going around her, once she decided on something. Not that I minded a visit to the Coffee Club, it was Mina that had to be dragged there.
The lecture was quite interesting, dealing with historic development of integrated circuitry, not necessarily relevant on a technical level, it was a well known process by now, but the procedural approach was still interesting. The Academy wanted us not only to understand how things were done and developed but also understand the underlying reasons.
My morning was filled with lectures but once they were done, I joined Mina and Nisha at the Coffee Club, we did not have the lecture before our lunch break together, it had been one of my physics-lectures so we met there, getting some sandwiches and coffee. Galina, one of my physics study-partners joined me on my way there as we were still discussing the lecture we had just listened to.
“Why don’t you join us, Galina, right?” Mina asked, they had met through me and talked a few times and Mina was always happy to get to know people better.
“Sure, there is coffee, right?” she asked with a grin. She was not quite as reliant on coffee as I was, but was always happy to have a cup.
“Obviously, do you think a coffee-junkie like Diana would not go for coffee, if able?”
“I am not a junkie!” I rejected the assertion that I was addicted to coffee. I just needed it to get out of bed and jump-start my brain.
When we got to the Coffee Club, I got the drinks on my card while the others got some food and we took over a corner table, sitting comfortably and had lunch.
“Now, Diana, you wanted to tell us what happened over your weekend.” Nisha started the less pleasant part of lunch, at least for me.
Hesitatingly, I started telling them about the late-night phone call and me, going to collect my roommate so she wouldn’t have to sleep in a cell, about our way back and putting her into bed. They made approving noises, signaling that they thought I had done something nice. When I got to the next morning and the accusation Tanisha had made, painting me as some sort of molester and how insulted I felt because of it, they got quiet.
“I think I see the problem. Diana, you need to realise something, you are not quite the norm. You, and I mean that in the best possible way, are cautious and vigilant, pretty much at all times. Just look at right now.” Nisha started an explanation and gestured at my position, back to the wall, at the edge of a bench allowing me to instantly stand and have an escape route. I hadn’t even realised I had been doing it, but I had scanned the room every minute or so and checked everyone who entered the shop.
“Don’t think I haven't noticed when we were out, dancing, that you kept an eye on our drinks at all times and when you couldn’t you used some sort of testing strip on them, right?” she continued her assessment.
“So, I am paranoid, is that what you want to say?” I asked, a little heat in my voice.
“Paranoid, vigilant, sometimes the line is just drawn by the question if you let it control your life. I don’t think you do, so you are vigilant. But, that is just you. What if your roommate, Tanisha, right?” she paused for a second, “What if she is not constantly vigilant and got hurt because of it before? And when she came to, not quite knowing what happened but naked in her own room, she got angry, probably at herself, causing her to lash out and you were just a convenient target? Give her a chance to apologise or at least explain. Depending on the situation she had been in, she might not be able to apologise.” Nisha laid out her thoughts.
I was not quite happy with her explanation, but it sounded plausible. Part of me still wanted to be angry, but maybe I should let Tanisha say her piece, before condemning her. If something bad had happened to her, she might have trust issues and when it came to trust issues, I could write a book about them.