Crimsy by Michael Martin

Author:Michael Martin [Martin, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: bacteria, bacteriology, Mars exploration, Mars, Martian, sci fi, science fiction, space exploration, space opera, SpaceX
Publisher: Heart Beat Publications, LLC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Thirty Four

So here I am, standing in the most uncomfortable place imaginable, a room with a growing crowd of people I don’t know. But what a room! From what I had seen, Parada had the most amazing house I’d ever seen, in a part of Seattle called Lower Queen Anne. It was historic, like I like, elegant but spare, spacious but warm, the perfect place to do what we were doing, feting Dr. Marcum for his Abel Prize win and seeing him off with all kinds of things, I’m sure, to tell the President. The White House was celebrating the winners of all the big science prizes this year: Abel, Nobel, Wolf, Fields Medal, the Fundamental Physics Prize, the Templeton Prize (which mixes in religion, and is hence controversial), the Breakthrough Prize, the Lasker Award, and of course the Sparks Prize, aka “The Alexanders,” which lavish recipients with one more dollar than the other prizes—combined.

People I’d seen in the parking garage, elevators, and hallways of the PAB were here, joining the university president and his wife; the Mayor of Seattle; most of the math and physics departments; our team; and plenty of strangers.

“Parada knows half the town, if not all of it,” Dr. Levitt said, as I scavenged the nosh pit.

I picked up a shrimp lacquered with a delicate orange sauce.

“This is so nice of you guys to do this for Dr. Marcum,” I said.

“And likewise,” she said.

“Hmm?”

“You’ll see.” She smiled and plunged into the crowd.

I navigated toward one of the bars, smiling but trying to avoid eye contact. I’m a hopeless INTP in an office where the only other “I” (for introvert) was probably Dr. Brando.

“INTJ,” I heard a low voice say. I jumped and turned.

“Hey, what? Did I…”

“Just tell me your Myers-Briggs?” Nathaniel Hawthorn smiled. “You find it difficult to introduce yourself to other people,” he said. “You often get so lost in thought you ignore or forget your surroundings. You do not usually initiate conversations.”

“I can’t believe you heard me.”

“Overheard. Who were you talking to?”

I looked away. “Who else would an INTP be talking to in a room full of strangers?”

“An INTJ,” he said. “Better yet if he’s not a stranger.”

“You’re good,” I said. We were at the bar. “What are you having?”

“After you,” Nathaniel said.

“Tonic water,” I told the bartender.

“Same,” Nathaniel said. “With a lemon.”

“You don’t drink?”

“Not tonight.”

“Driving?”

“That’s one reason,” he said.

A gentle shock crept up the back of my neck.

“How’s your mom?”

“Good,” I said. “May even have a new guy in her life.”

“Really? You know this guy?”

“Yeah.” I directed my glass of tonic water toward him. “He’s right over there.”

“Him?”

I watched Dr. Hale hand his black rain coat to a party staffer.

“Harold Hale,” I said. Cool of him to fly out here for our fete. Maybe he really was mellowing. “I used to work for him. Dr. Levitt used to work with him. And Dr. Cooper works with him now.”

“Your mom—” Nathaniel said.

“High school sweethearts.”

He jerked his head back and opened his eyes.

“Jennifer.” Dr. Brando held up a beer and moved between some people.

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