Chapter 443
Chapter 443:
She stood, grabbed a marker from his desk, and walked to the whiteboard behind him. In three seconds she had written out the Navier-Stokes equation, modified for high-altitude density variables.
“If you kept it at 15 degrees,” Isolde said, capping the marker, “the tail would shear off due to harmonic vibration at 1,800 miles per hour p>
Silence filled the room. The hum of the server in the corner seemed to grow louder.
Nelson stared at the whiteboard. Then he looked at Isolde. The disdain was gone, replaced by a sharp, predatory interest.
“That formula,” Nelson said slowly. “That’s not in the textbooks. That’s a DARPA-derived algorithm. Classified p>
Isolde paused. She had slipped. That was knowledge from her Valkyrie days.
“I read a lot, Professor,” she said smoothly. “And I understand the physics p>
Nelson studied her for a long, uncomfortable minute. A flicker of recognition — something sharp and knowing — crossed his face before he masked it.
“You’re not a tourist,” he muttered. “You’re a weapon p>
D𝘰w𝗻𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽 р𝖣𝖥s 𝗳re𝗲 𝗈𝗻.со𝗺
He rose and walked to the window, looking out at the campus.
“You know about the Daedalus Gauntlet, of course,” he said. “The successor to the ISSDC. The decennial competition. The Olympics of engineering, on steroids p>
“I’m familiar with it,” Isolde said. The original ISSDC was where she had made her name as Sophia.
“InnoTech is bidding,” Nelson said, turning back to her. “Belle Escobar is throwing money at it like she’s printing it. I hear your old team is… leaking p>
Isolde smiled grimly. “News travels fast p>
“If you can assemble a team and win the Daedalus contract,” Nelson said, his eyes gleaming, “proving you can still innovate under fire, I will take you on as my personal doctoral candidate. Full scholarship. And I will write your recommendation letter to NASA myself p>
Isolde’s heart hammered against her ribs. This was it. The golden ticket.
“Deal,” she said.
“Don’t get cocky,” Nelson warned. “InnoTech has the money to buy the best mercenaries in the business p>
“Talent can’t be bought, Professor,” Isolde said. “And neither can a soul p>
She turned to leave.
In the doorway, a teaching assistant bumped into her, scattering a stack of papers. Isolde helped him collect them, her movements efficient and unhurried. The TA watched her go, then looked back at Nelson.
“Who was that, Professor p>
Nelson studied the equation on the whiteboard, tracing the lines with his eyes.
“That,” Nelson said, a small, knowing smile touching his lips, “might be Sophia, come back from the dead p>
Isolde walked out into the bright campus sunlight. Her phone buzzed.
It was Arland.
We need to talk. Belle is making moves. Big ones.
Isolde typed back: Let her move. I have a new target.
She glanced back at the Engineering building. She wasn’t just Isolde Carson anymore.
She was back in the game.
The office of Belle Escobar at InnoTech headquarters was a shrine to modern minimalism — and barely concealed panic.