“Yes, Comet, they’re my equals, but they’ve realized I’m about to tower above them all.” Professor Lunguard smiled at his pet cockatiel, Comet. Comet’s head bobbed in three sharp motions, followed by a slower fourth dip and snap.
Lunguard finished entering equations into his computer. “They don’t understand, Comet. I attended the schools they attended–and lectured to the young minds they instructed. I’ve published as many papers as Strugart or Baldwin. I,” he stressed the ‘I’ and paused for effect, putting his hand to his chest, “I corrected the rocket fuel for the shuttle.” He punched a few more keys and read the result on his monitor. He turned, and dramatically moved toward a heap of metal and light tubes, which he had hastily constructed on a lab table. “And I will solve the transportation problems of the world.”
“Crazy! Crazy!”
Lunguard grabbed a wad of white paper, knocked over some glass tubes onto the tile floor, and hurled the paper ball at the bird. “You shouldn’t repeat everything you hear, bird!”
“Crazy! Danger! Lunguard!”
“Shut up, you lump of feathers!” Lunguard screamed.
“Got it! Equation! Crazy!” Comet’s head bobbed with each word.
Lunguard pitched another wad of paper at the perch. Red faced, Lunguard sat back, mesmerized by the screen and its little numbers and symbols. The complex equations would puzzle even a contemporary. Strugart and Baldwin had taken over an hour of explanation to discern what lay before them. They told him he was a nut. But they were wrong.
This invention would solve all the world’s transportation challenges. No more subways or trains or airplanes polluting the skies. No more traffic jams or car accidents or drunk driving and dead wives who left a man without warm dinners and companionship. No more rocket fuel necessary. No more jobs for Strugart and Baldwin. That’s why they were angry. That’s why they had said terrible things. Telling him to stop. Insisting he was insane. After the harsh exchange Lunguard never expected from his colleagues, his friends, the visitors rushed from Lunguard’s lab with expressed threats to report him.
Lunguard examined the printout. He gazed out the tiny window over his desk. This would be the last evening anyone called him insane or mocked his efforts.
“It’s ready. All that remains is for me to hook up that relay and add the water. That’s all it takes.” He looked at Comet bobbing away. “Who would have thought?” He chuckled as he stood and picked up a screwdriver and some wires. For a few minutes, he hummed to himself and worked with intense concentration.
“X equals three! Three! X equals three.” The bird bobbed its head and hopped along its perch.
“Quiet, you drip of seagull shit!”
“Black hole! Crazy! Black hole! X equals! Hole!”
“Damn it!” With his exclamation, Lunguard threw a screwdriver this time. With his hands on his hips, he glared at the bird. “This is a big moment, Comet! Have some respect for genius!”
The bird was silent as it cowered at the rear of its cage. Lunguard felt the moment. His moment. Now they’d see.
“X does equal three.” He smiled. “All I have to do is pour the water in here –
