(no subject)
Chas finally caught up with Charlie early in the evening. He sounded okay on the phone, a little tired maybe, but nothing some good pad Thai couldn't fix. Chas parked his cab behind the club and went up the back stairs, balancing the steaming cartons in one arm so he could knock on Charlie's door.
"S'open!"
He tried the knob and, sure enough, it turned easily in his hand. He nudged the door open a bit and then gave it a good shove with his hip as he tried to keep their dinner from decorating the hall carpet. "You really oughta lock that thing once in a while."
Charlie looked up from the floor, where he was surrounded by a scatter of papers and a few laid-open magazines, and grinned. "I do, sometimes. But I knew you were coming."
"Yeah, still." Chas got a good look at the article Charlie was flipping through as he set the cartons on Charlie's little table and began to get them open. He didn't recognize a bit of it, which meant it probably fell somewhere in Charlie's current fields of expertise, rather than his own.
"So, you did talk to Don."
"Mmmm... yes and no. He picked up, but then he handed me off to another agent, pretty much immediately. They need some specialized analysis for a case and they'd like me to handle it."
Chas' eyebrows went up. "Wow... is that what all this is?"
Charlie chuckled, and accepted the carton Chas was handing him. "No. I'm just reading over what's new in the field. They're working up a package of data for me."
"Which... you'll have to pick up at Don's-"
"Which they'll send over by courier." Charlie took a huge bite of noodles, and Chas just watched him for a moment.
"How long do you think he can manage to avoid you?"
Charlie mumbled around his mouthful, waving his fork in little circles until he could swallow. "Until I'm done with the analysis. I'll need to present results, and unless Don steps down from the case-" Not fucking likely, Chas knew that much. "... he'll have to be there for that."
"He's not getting over this anytime soon, is he?"
Charlie chuckled again, but this time it was completely without humor. "No. He thinks..." Charlie paused, and stared back down at the article he'd been reading. "He thinks -this- is what I should be doing. What I would be doing, if I hadn't left Princeton."
Chas sighed, and leaned back against the edge of the table. "Maybe you could try to tell him-"
"Tell him what? That I see things I have no understanding of? That I kept waiting for each new teacher to explain these... auras to me? Or that by the time I realized it would never happen because none of them could -see- what I did, they were already wondering whether I might be crazy." Charlie's shoulders were pulled in, he hadn't looked up once as he spoke.
"You know you're not crazy, Charlie."
"Yeah. But I'm not in any shape to try to convince Don, or Dad, or anybody else of that. It's like.... you can't just go around telling people you've proven the Riemann hypothesis, if you want to be believed you have to show your work." He lifted his head, finally, and looked straight at Chas. "When I've figured it out for myself, maybe then I can tell them."
[573/4158]
"S'open!"
He tried the knob and, sure enough, it turned easily in his hand. He nudged the door open a bit and then gave it a good shove with his hip as he tried to keep their dinner from decorating the hall carpet. "You really oughta lock that thing once in a while."
Charlie looked up from the floor, where he was surrounded by a scatter of papers and a few laid-open magazines, and grinned. "I do, sometimes. But I knew you were coming."
"Yeah, still." Chas got a good look at the article Charlie was flipping through as he set the cartons on Charlie's little table and began to get them open. He didn't recognize a bit of it, which meant it probably fell somewhere in Charlie's current fields of expertise, rather than his own.
"So, you did talk to Don."
"Mmmm... yes and no. He picked up, but then he handed me off to another agent, pretty much immediately. They need some specialized analysis for a case and they'd like me to handle it."
Chas' eyebrows went up. "Wow... is that what all this is?"
Charlie chuckled, and accepted the carton Chas was handing him. "No. I'm just reading over what's new in the field. They're working up a package of data for me."
"Which... you'll have to pick up at Don's-"
"Which they'll send over by courier." Charlie took a huge bite of noodles, and Chas just watched him for a moment.
"How long do you think he can manage to avoid you?"
Charlie mumbled around his mouthful, waving his fork in little circles until he could swallow. "Until I'm done with the analysis. I'll need to present results, and unless Don steps down from the case-" Not fucking likely, Chas knew that much. "... he'll have to be there for that."
"He's not getting over this anytime soon, is he?"
Charlie chuckled again, but this time it was completely without humor. "No. He thinks..." Charlie paused, and stared back down at the article he'd been reading. "He thinks -this- is what I should be doing. What I would be doing, if I hadn't left Princeton."
Chas sighed, and leaned back against the edge of the table. "Maybe you could try to tell him-"
"Tell him what? That I see things I have no understanding of? That I kept waiting for each new teacher to explain these... auras to me? Or that by the time I realized it would never happen because none of them could -see- what I did, they were already wondering whether I might be crazy." Charlie's shoulders were pulled in, he hadn't looked up once as he spoke.
"You know you're not crazy, Charlie."
"Yeah. But I'm not in any shape to try to convince Don, or Dad, or anybody else of that. It's like.... you can't just go around telling people you've proven the Riemann hypothesis, if you want to be believed you have to show your work." He lifted his head, finally, and looked straight at Chas. "When I've figured it out for myself, maybe then I can tell them."
[573/4158]