Math Girl

Tony Gaines woke up to someone knocking on the door.

He’d been up for several nights playing a video game. Despite putting weeks of effort into solving the next part of the game, it was all for nothing. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and answered the door.

“Anthony Gaines?” said a man wearing a military uniform.

Tony shifted, nervously. “Actually, uh, Anthony’s not here right now. He…”

The military man turned around and waved toward a dark car. Another man left the car and walked up to the house.

“Do I look like someone who’d be standing here if I didn’t already know everything there is to know about you?” asked the military man.

Tony’s shoulders slumped. “No. Not really.”

“Right,” said the man.

Tony noticed the rank of the man’s uniform. A general. What the freaking hell was this madness?

The man from the car stepped up to the general’s side.

“Who are you?” asked Tony.

“Dr. Nicholas Rush. May we come in?”

“Why?”

“You spent a great deal of time recently playing an online fantasy game called Prometheus.”

Tony laughed. “Big Brother’s got nothing better to do?”

Dr. Rush ignored him and said, “Last night you solved the Dakara weapons puzzle.”

Tony shrugged. “I tried. A month of my life went into that. And do you know what happened? Nothing!”

“We’re here. That happened,” said the general, dripping sarcasm.

“To complete that particular puzzle, you had to solve a millennia-old mathematical proof written in another language. For that, you've won something of a prize,” said Dr. Rush.

Oh crap. “Well, whatever it is, I'll take the cash equivalent,” said Tony.

“There isn't one,” said the general.

Of freaking course. Tony was starting to panic.

Dr. Rush held out a document for Tony and said, “It's a non-disclosure agreement.”

“Non-disclo…” Tony should have stayed in bed. “So you guys really embedded a top-secret problem into a game, hoping someone like me would solve it?”

“Yep,” said the general.

Crap. Crappity crappity craptastic crap. “So what d'you need me for now?”

“I assure you, it'll be worth your while to sign it,” said Dr. Rush.

Tony’s shoulders slumped again. “Look. You don’t want me.”

“Of course we do,” dismissed Dr. Rush. “I’d love to go over your solution with you.”

“No. I mean–” Tony sighed. “You don’t want me. Someone else made the proof. I just tried it out.”

The general took off his sunglasses and stared at Tony. It was like being x-rayed.

“Someone. Else?” he asked in a clipped tone.

“Who,” asked Dr. Rush. But it wasn’t so much a question as a demand.

Tony hesitated and then looked at the general’s x-ray eyes again. He sighed.

“Ella. Her name is Ella Wallace.”

“And this Ella made the proof for you?” asked Dr. Rush quietly.

“Yeah. She’s really good at math. And I brought her tea. And food. She said it was an interesting problem. She can figure out, like, any proof. I have no idea who her advisor is. I just see her in the library on campus. She’s there. A lot. All of the time. In the mornings. I’ll bet she’s there now! You should go talk to her,” Tony was rambling.

The general reached out and grabbed Tony’s drooping shoulder.

“Introduce us.”

“Awww man. She’ll know I gave up her name. She’ll never do math for me again. No amount of tea will make up for this.” Tony was definitely whining now, but the general steered him to the car undeterred.

_______________________________________

Dr. Rush’s eyes landed on the woman. She was slender with dark hair escaping from a long braid. There was a jagged scar across her neck. She was reading a textbook that was propped up on the table in front of her.

“Ella?”

Her eyes snapped up and landed on Tony. She flicked her eyes over General O’Neill and Rush before landing back on Tony.

She raised an eyebrow. “Hello, Tony,” came an English accent.

“Hi. I, um, tea. I brought you tea.” The boy almost tripped while handing the tea to her.

Her eyebrow quirked upward.

Tony continued his verbal diarrhea. “It’s Earl Gray. Milk. No sugar. Um. Thanks for the proof. I thought it, um, didn’t work. But it turns out it did. Because these guys showed up this morning. And wanted to meet you. So I brought you tea.”

The girl didn’t drink the tea. Her eyes flicked back to O’Neill and Rush. She waved her hand to indicate the chairs on the opposite side of the table. Dr. Rush slid into a seat.

O’Neill turned to Tony and said, “Bye Tony. Do well in school. Maybe spend more time on homework and a little less time on games.”

Tony scowled and looked like he was going to say something.

“Go home, Tony. You look like you need some sleep,” said the girl.

The boy hesitated again.

“It’s fine, Tony,” she said. “Thanks for the tea.”

Tony shrugged and left.

O’Neill sat down.

“Sooo… who are you?” asked O’Neill.

She tilted her head. “Didn’t you hear Tony?”

“Ah. Yes. Ella Wallace. Except no Ella Wallace attends MIT. There was an Eli Wallace who dropped out last year. But you–I don’t know who you are,” said O’Neill.

The young woman was relaxed. O’Neill was slightly reminded of Teal’c for some reason.

“Life would be dull without little mysteries,” she said.

Dr. Rush broke in, “Did you solve the Dakara weapons puzzle for Tony?”

The girl shrugged. “He asked me to look at a problem in a game he’s playing. It was interesting.”

“To complete that problem, you had to solve a millennia-old mathematical proof written in another language. It’s phenomenal. For that, we’d like to offer you a job,” said Dr. Rush.

“Me? A job? Doing what?” She looked very suspicious.

“Mathematics, mainly relating to physics,” said Rush.

She tapped her fingers on the table. “For solving a little problem? I’m sure loads of people could do it. And why would you want me? It’s not like I have a degree or something.”

“No one else has solved that problem. Ever. We want a fresh perspective on some mathematical problems.”

She looked toward O’Neill. “May you please remove your sunglasses?”

O’Neill arched an eyebrow and took off his shades.

“Do you think I’m expendable?”

The blunt question made O’Neill blink. “No. No one is expendable.”

“Why are you offering an uncredentialed person this job instead of someone…known?”

“Math isn’t my area. From what the eggheads tell me, you know the answers. Others don’t.”

Her lip twitched. “And how long would this job last?”

“Maybe the rest of your life.”

“And how long would that life be?”

O’Neill paused. “I don’t know. Hopefully a very long time. This research is attached to a military organization. You’d be a consultant. Probably in a lab or something with Dr. Rush. I can’t guarantee no danger, though.”

Hari’s lips twitched. “No one can, I suppose.”

O’Neill tilted his head. His stare reminded Hari of Dumbledore.

Hari pursed her lips. “I don’t think it’ll work out.”

Dr. Rush asked, “Why?”

Hari paused. She felt sad that she’d probably have to say goodbye to her lovely library after today. Or change her appearance. Or visit at night? She sighed. “I have…paperwork issues. I’m guessing you’re more likely to report me to immigration than actually give me a job with the US military.”

“I don’t care about that,” Dr. Rush scoffed. “You can do the math. You think the right way. I want you on the project.”

Hari couldn’t remember someone saying that they wanted her. It was nice. Distracting.

“I’ve never heard that excuse before,” said O’Neill, looking frankly impressed. “Paperwork? What type of paperwork issue?”

“Errr. A lack,” hedged Hari.

“What paperwork do you have?”

“Errr. A distinct lack. That is to say – none,” said Hari, shifting in her seat.

“No paperwork.”

“No.”

“No identification. No visa. No passport. No library card?” said O’Neill.

Hari shrugged.

“For cryin’ out loud. Ok. The military is all about paperwork,” said O’Neill. “I’m sure it can be worked out as a signing bonus.”

Hari blinked. “Just like that?”

“As your daily life seems to be about solving math problems in a library, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that you’re not a sleeper agent focused on our destruction,” said O’Neill. Then he looked at her waiting for a response.

“Errr. No. I mean, yes. Yes, I like math. No to destruction.”

O’Neill’s lips twitched. “Alright then, Math Girl. What’s your name?”

Hari blinked and looked at Dr. Rush. “Seriously? I mean…seriously?”

Rush smiled. “It’s well worth it. I promise you.”

“Shouldn’t there be an employment contract? Details? Jumping in with no information sounds – errr – ill-advised.” Hari internally cringed at the memories of times she’d flown into a situation without waiting for information. Maybe the fact that she brought it up was a sign of growth and maturity.

“You’ll go over the details on your trip to the lab,” said O’Neill.

“Let’s go over the basics now,” said Hari.

O’Neill gave her another x-ray look. “You’ll initially be gone for several months. Your contact with anyone not on the project will be severely limited. You will not be able to tell anyone about the work you are doing, except those working on the project.”

“Pay? Paperwork? Release? What happens after? What happens if I want to leave?”

“You’ll be paid at the same level as our entry research consultants,” said O’Neill. “We’ll setup a bank account, assuming you don’t have one. You’ll be committed for the first few months, but can leave after that if you want. If you want to leave, you just…leave. You still won’t be able to tell anyone about the project or the work you did. That would be a criminal offense.”

Hari performed some light legilimancy on O’Neill. Just enough to know he was telling the truth.

Cool math. A passport. Mysteries. Maybe it was time for a change.

She wrote her name on a piece of paper and handed it to O’Neill.

“Hari Black?”

Hari shrugged. “I never could say ‘no’ to an adventure.”

_______________________________________

Hari re-materialized in a room with a beautiful view of the Earth. She was in orbit around Earth.

She could almost feel Hermione screaming at her stupidity in her mind. “Son of a bitch. I really should have demanded all of the details in advance.”