He returned still deep in thought to his room, and settled in to rendering probability theory clearly and concisely in Latin, a satisfying challenge. The tingling in two fingers of his right hand faded from his notice. He wrote in the spare up-time style, with no classical allusions, metaphors, or digressions beyond the bounds of mathematics itself. Richard wrote, crossed out, wrote again, made editing marks, wrote again. After a time the weather became typically English. Rain, sun, overcast, wind, at twenty-minute intervals. The sky abruptly turned fair with an unseasonably warm breeze, and Richard thought to air out his room while he had the chance. He opened the windows and the door to the staircase.
He went back to his translation. Hmm, what would be the best way to express the concept of expectation?
There was a soft caress against his ankle. He looked down at orange fur and blue eyes. Nan was looking up at him. He reached down to stroke her side. She leaped to his lap, and from there to the table. She sniffed at the inkwell and brushed her upraised tail against his nose. Richard lifted her aside, off his rough draft, and began scratching her behind the ears to tempt her to stay where she was. She settled down with one paw draped limply over the edge, purring and swishing her tail from side to side. Richard was a little too distracted at the moment to remember whose cat she was, but it hardly seemed to matter to her anyway. His hand continued moving, back and forth, as his mind returned to pondering the problem. Perhaps… He weighed alternative constructions, as they took shape in his mind. After a time footsteps sounded on the staircase. Richard listened with half an ear for a moment, but he didn’t recognize the step, and it was early for John. He wrote another sentence.
There was a knock on the door frame. Richard looked up. “Oh, Dr. Comber.” He started to rise.
Dr. Comber waved him back down. “Do you have a few moments, Richard? I have some questions.”
“Certainly.” Richard waved his hand toward the second chair.
As Dr. Comber drew it up to the other side of the writing table and settled down, Nan opened her eyes. He reached out his hand and she leaned into it, while he gathered his words. His gaze swept across the stacked page proofs and the scattered manuscript sheets on the table. “How does it go, then?” Nan rose to her feet at the broken silence, jumped off the table, and sauntered off to parts unknown.
“Very well. There should be only one more batch of page proofs after these, before the English edition can go to press and I can think of offering a course of lectures. There are already inquiries for copies. As to the Latin manuscript, it’s nearing the halfway mark. The Latin lexicographers helped me greatly in devising suitable terms for the new principles before I left Grantville, and they’ve added them to their technical dictionary.”
“Excellent. But I was asking after your health, more than the work.”
“Not too bad.” He reached for the cane leaning against the bookcase and held it up. “I have this, but seldom need it. The special candle lamp with the focusing lens and mirror that I brought for the microprint viewer helps me work after dark.”
“You didn’t need that cane at all, earlier. Perhaps we’d better find you quarters downstairs for next term. I’ll say a word to the bursar and see what might be done. More difficulties seeing, too? You have my sympathy. I’m thankful to have spectacles, these days. But you’re able to continue teaching? I know how greatly you wish it.”
“Yes, and it gives me greater satisfaction to aid others in taking up the work. I could never bring such a body of new knowledge to Cambridge by myself. No man could, alone.”
“Indeed. And so we come to my reason for calling on you today.”
John Rant appeared in the doorway. “Oh, Dr. Comber, I didn’t know you were with Richard. Should I come back later?”
“No, stay, you might have some thoughts to illuminate the discussion, with all the time you’ve spent together in study and inquiry.”
Both chairs being occupied, John leaned against the wall beside the door and folded his arms, an expectant expression on his face.
“Richard, I’ve been much occupied with many matters, but you’ve spoken before of what new learning this university might offer to our students. I would like a more thorough understanding of what it consists, and how large a body of knowledge it might be.”
“You’re giving consideration to this, then?”
“It’s far too soon to say that. Before I can consider anything, or usefully speak of such things with the fellows and officers, I must understand the meaning of these subjects you say are studied now in the Germanies, and as well the numbers of those to do the instructing. Particularly the latter. Do you know, this university has been trying for years to get an endowed chair of mathematics?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Well, it has. With no success. But it seems you made a deep impression on your merchant friend Jeremiah Brantley, who is well known in commercial circles and among other notables of the town. He and the mayor unexpectedly called on me yesterday. He’s apparently made inquiries overseas and consulted with others, and is now engaged in raising subscriptions all over the shire to found such a post. From merchants and town officials! With relations between the university and the town always in a delicate state, this is to be marveled at. It’s also to be approached with great caution, so as not to upset matters.”
He brought his hands together and interlaced his fingers.
“So. Pray tell me, what exactly is mechanical engineering, why are the merchants and local notables so convinced of its value to them that they’re willing to contribute to the university on its behalf, and if this institution were to carry on a course of instruction to that end, how would it be done? I wish to be thoroughly prepared to listen and speak of this question, before it arises again.”
“Oh. Well. I would define it as the use of mathematics and scientific knowledge to design mechanical devices. Its uses are beyond counting. As to why the merchants are interested, I think they’re looking first of all to the rapid movement of people and goods. The sooner and surer the arrival, the sooner and surer the profit. That’s what Master Brantley said to me. They see steamships, railroad trains, aircraft on the continent, and they want them here. Then there’s mechanical spinning and weaving-he was most fascinated by that possibility, being a wool merchant. Now as to the curriculum, I have some notes here, which one of the physics teachers in Grantville allowed me to copy down.”
Richard turned in his chair, and pulled a commonplace book from a shelf. He laid it on the table and flipped through the pages, then turned it so his visitor could see.
“Here, a list of courses for the degree in mechanical engineering, at the great California Institute of Technology. Calculus in multiple variables, linear algebra, differential equations, probability, motion and gravity, electricity and magnetism, the theory of relativity, particles and waves, quantum mechanics, theory and experimental practice of chemistry, biology of viruses, statics and dynamics of rigid and deformable bodies, thermodynamics, engineering design methods, fluid mechanics, technical and scientific writing and speaking, mechanics of materials, control theory, and practical mechanical laboratory sessions. Humanities as well, of course.”
Dr. Comber’s face was a study in consternation as he stared down at the list. “If all those completely unknown fields of knowledge are of similar scope and effort to the few I have at least heard of, it seems a most ambitious curriculum for a doctorate.”
Richard hesitated.
“It doesn’t seem so to you?”
“Ah…that’s for the bachelor’s degree. Bachelor of Science in Mechanical Engineering, a four-year curriculum. The advanced degrees dealt with research, original contributions to the field, and sometimes the leadership of projects and enterprises.”