“Alex, where did you go to school?” the lead astronomer asked, intrigued by the sudden summons from such a young man.

“Homeschooling. Well, I spent all my nights at the astronomy lab with my father. The older I got, the higher the telescope my father worked at. By eighteen, we moved to the newest and highest telescope on Zandak.”

“Who’s your father?”

Alex took a deep breath. He had not pronounced his father’s name in a long time. “Yakan,” he answered softly.

“Yakan! He’s one of the brightest minds I know. I haven’t seen any scientific papers from him in the past few years. How is he doing?”

“He’s been missing for several years now. His body was never found, but he’s presumed dead. A hiking accident, probably.”

“Son, I’m so sorry to hear that. What a tragedy!” the man said, shaking his head in dismay as if he suddenly lost a good friend.

Alex pressed his lips together. He suddenly felt like he was out of place.

The scientist got up from his chair and went to the bookshelf behind him. A thick book with a black cover sat on a shelf behind glass. He opened the little door and pulled out the book. He gently laid it out on his desk. “When I turned eighteen, my parents purchased me a printed version of your dad’s famous astronomy book.”

Alex’s eyes widened in surprise. The printed edition must have cost a fortune! Paper books were rare and precious. The young physicist caressed the front page and turned a few pages. He knew this book by heart because he had composed a large portion of it himself. Alex always had a gift for describing physics intuitively, while his father got bogged down in details, making his descriptions impossible to understand except to a handful of scientists.

A tear brimmed at the corner of his eye, but he managed to regain his composure. He gently closed it and pressed the palm of his hand against the cover once more before retracting it. “My dad had been working on a new edition when he went missing.” Well, Alex had written most of the new chapters, but it didn’t matter. The book would never be published, but it was nearly finished.

“Oh, what a pity! My students would have enjoyed reading it. It was surprising that Yakan was able to produce such an elaborate textbook while publishing as many papers as he did.”

A faint smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. Yakan’s contribution consisted mostly of questions the draft textbook didn’t address. By the time Alex had finished answering them, the book had doubled in size, and his understanding of astronomy had grown exponentially.

“May I borrow your tablet? I’d like to show you something,” Alex asked.

The man’s brows furrowed, but he handed his device to Alex.

The young physicist connected to SpaceNet and pulled out a large file. He handed out the tablet to its owner.

The man bent his head and stared at the screen. “Astronomy 201 by Yakan,” the man read, his eyes widening in surprise. “What’s that?”

“The new edition of my dad’s book,” Alex said, his voice full of pride mixed with sadness.

“But you said he had been missing?”

Alex nodded. “The book was nearly finished when he disappeared,” he lied. “I just needed to update a few charts with the latest data.”

The scientist read the table of contents attentively. “Oh, he added several new chapters!” he said with delight. “A third of this new edition focuses on gravitational fields and data analysis.”

Alex nodded. “It was his latest field of study,” Alex said, this time telling the truth. His father had been working on gravimetrics, but the new chapters all contained original research Alex had conducted himself after his dad’s disappearance.

“Wow! He’s presenting novel ways to use SpaceNet sensor data to complement astronomical observations! He even included his code in the latest programming language. That will be extremely useful.”

“When will it be published?” the man asked eagerly.

Alex took a deep breath. “Probably never, but I authorize you to use it as you deem fit.”

“Really?” the man asked, unsure if Alex was telling the truth.

“May I?” Alex asked, extending his right hand toward the tablet.

The scientist hesitated, afraid Alex might somehow delete the precious textbook from the tablet. He reluctantly handed over the device.

Alex opened another document. It was a signed letter authorizing the distribution of the new textbook. Alex was the legal guardian of all his father’s intellectual property. He signed the waiver and added the scientist’s name at the top of the document. “I’m giving you the legal authority to use this textbook as you deem fit; I only ask that you keep my father’s name on it.”

“Of course! That goes without saying,” the man said in a horrified tone. “So I can use it for all my classes?”

Alex laughed. “The whole university can use it, and you can also publish it if you’re inclined to do so. Use any royalties to give grants to promising students.”

The man held the tablet against his chest as if afraid it might suddenly fly away. “Thank you very much!” He stared at Alex with narrowed eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry, I forgot why you asked to see me.”

The young physicist had not mentioned it yet. “I wanted to inquire whether there would be a position for me in the astrophysics department. I would like to continue my dad’s research.”

The man’s brows arched in surprise. “You’re familiar with Yakan’s work?”

“Thoroughly. He talked about it all the time,” Alex lied. His father was a taciturn man who rarely spoke, but when he did, you’d better listen. Every word counted, but in truth, Alex just had to review the data he had collected and study his latest programming code to understand what his father was trying to do. Invariably, Alex would fix the code and finish it in the morning so his dad could use it for his observations the next night.

“Do you have a degree in astrophysics?” the professor asked.

Alex shook his head. “I completed my high school exam, but after that, I was home-schooled and never attended college.” He didn’t mention the history classes he took to cover his activities.

“Hmm, the university has strict rules about the qualifications of its staff.”

“Perhaps the rules are less strict for research assistants?” Alex asked. “I’m proficient in computer programming.”

Alex didn’t need the money, but he needed access to computers to hack into SpaceNet. He stared at the tablet as the professor clutched it even more tightly.

“Why don’t you test my knowledge in astronomy and astrophysics? I could work for you for a whole semester without remuneration,” Alex suggested.

The professor rubbed his chin, thinking. “I received some research grants; money is not an issue.”

Alex stared at the tablet but said nothing.

“Would you mind sitting in a classroom and writing some exams?”

The young physicist shook his head. He had seen them all and had already answered them all before requesting to see the professor. “What are you working on at the moment?” Alex already knew the answer, but he was curious to see how the scientist would describe his work.

“We’re trying to develop large membrane mirrors with low areal weight, but they are difficult to manufacture to the required optical quality,” the professor began to explain.

“You’re trying to deposit a polymer onto the surface of a rotating liquid that forms a parabolic shape,” Alex added. “Once coated with a reflective surface, the membrane could be used as a mirror.”

The professor smiled. “You read my latest paper on the topic.” It was more a statement than a question. “Any insights you’d like to share?”

“You could manipulate the mirror’s parabolic shape by applying a light beam to the back surface of the structure; that would give you better results.”

The man’s brows shot up and stayed suspended for a moment. “Let’s forget about the exams. Why don’t you talk to my team to see if you’d be a good fit?”

“Fine with me,” Alex answered, suppressing a smile.