however, still owe me a drink for taking all of Johnson’s flack.”
Roger’s eyes widened, then Ell heard Johnson’s voice over her shoulder, “Ms. Symonds, are you impugning my teaching methods by calling them ‘flack’?”
Ell ducked her head and turned to see Johnson right behind her with a beer in his hand, “Uh, no sir!” She was relieved to see a twinkle in Johnson’s eye.
“Good, because that’s how great physicists are born, they learn to defend themselves.”
“Really sir? How long have you been cultivating these mixed metaphors?”
To her relief he grinned again, “That’s how great physicists grow, they plow under some metaphors. Roger is a poor grad student who can’t possibly afford to buy you a beer, so I’m buying. What’ll you have?”
“Uh, a coke sir.”
“You don’t have to teetotal just because I’m here. I’d be happy to get you a beer.”
Ell gulped, feeling guilty, but having decided that she didn’t want to take advantage of her false identity to drink underage, she said, “It’s OK, sir, I don’t drink. A Coke’d be great though, thanks.”
Johnson turned and left without saying anything. Ell turned back to Roger, “Is he mad that I didn’t have a beer?”
“Nope, you worried because he didn’t say anything, just went back to the bar?”
“Yeah, kinda.”
“Get used to it. Haven’t you noticed he never says good bye or in any way indicates the conclusion of a conversation?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Just how he is. I’m pretty sure he’s got Asperger’s syndrome.”
“Huh?”
“You know. A kind of autism. Very high functioning but poor social skills. He’s genius level physics, but weird to talk to. And as you’re finding out, he can be very hard to get along with.”
“Oh.” Ell saw Johnson returning with her Coke, so she stopped talking to Roger and waved to the other grad students sitting around the little table. “How’s it goin’?”
They all nodded and responded with some version of “fine.” A redheaded young man Ell hadn’t seen before said, “I’m Jerry, from the Sponchesi lab.”
Roger said, “Sorry, I forgot you hadn’t met everyone. This is Ellen Symonds. Dr. Johnson has assigned her to try to test that new theory of Donsaii’s.”
A chorus of “Ouch,” and “Poor girl,” came from the group.
Johnson stepped up and handed Ell her Coke. “What are you guys moaning about? It shouldn’t take her long to prove that theory wrong and she’ll get a paper out of it.”
Roger said, “Proving a negative is tough though.”
Johnson rolled his eyes. “Please! That theory has so many holes in it; you could use it to strain spaghetti. With a little work she should be able to find all kinds of predictions that don’t work!” In an abrupt change of topic, he said, “Anyone want to apply some real world physics to the pool table over there?”
Johnson, Roger, Jerry and another grad student named Al headed over to the nearest empty pool table, leaving Ell to sit with Emma, also from the Sponchesi lab and James, a very handsome grad student, also from Johnson’s lab. Emma said, “That’s really tough being assigned to that Donsaii paper. The math is completely incomprehensible.”
Ell said, “I understand the math OK. I don’t know much about testing apparati though.”
Emma’s brown eyes widened. “Really? Well if you can understand that math, I’ll make you a deal. You help me with the math on my project, and I’ll help you with your equipment.”
James snorted, “Don’t agree to that devil’s bargain Ellen. The math on her project is really weird too! At least make her help you with your equipment first. Actually, that’d be a good deal, she can make machines sing.”
“Really?” Ell said, “I could sure use the help. What’s your project?”
As Emma described her work James rolled his eyes and then looked around the room, bored with shop talk. Ell was relieved to learn that Emma’s project