The Evolution of Genius: Every Night, I Get Smarter!

I returned to the call, and Lydia’s voice was now trembling with panic. She asked, "Max, what should I do? I don’t know what to do!"

In a soothing tone, I responded, "Lydia, don’t worry. I’ve got this. I’ll take care of everything. Just stay calm. And don’t go to the lab, they might have more tricks up their ass"

Just as I assured Lydia that I would handle things, the plane began to accelerate down the runway, and before I could say more, the call abruptly disconnected.

Due to the time difference, our flight landed in Boston in the evening of the same date.

Hey! Free day! Not really.

We made our way back to the campus.

I quickly took out my phone. I wanted to ensure that if someone had breached my room and attempted to steal my theory, I would have evidence to back it up.

Video recording could not be the solo evidence, but it could help.

As we got closer to the door, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Back when we were rushing with Rick, we’d completely forgot to close the door. So now, there was no way to prove that someone had busted in.

Shit!

Regardless, I entered my room slowly with Rick, recording as I went.

It became evident that the papers had been tampered with. Someone had rifled through them and cleverly made it look as though nothing happened.

It was highly likely that they had taken photographs.

There wasn’t much more for me to record at that point.

Rick turned to me, concerned, "What you gonna do now?"

"I need some time to think this through. I’ll probably have to contact someone with experience in this kind of situation, maybe a lawyer"

In that moment, I had a sudden realization. It would be wise to put my theory into the MIT library, creating a timestamped record that I had the work.

This way, there would be a slightly different documentation than the one Limen released just 16 hours before.

It needed to do everything to protect my intellectual property.

I lucked out a bit there, ’cause I had a copy of one of our test results showcasing a 97% monopolistic property.

As I was on my way to submit my work to the MIT library, my phone rang, and it was Professor Milik calling, "Hey, Max?"

"Yes?"

"Would you be available tomorrow morning?"

"I might be, and why tomorrow morning exactly?"

"Yesterday, I reached out to Dean Bush, Associate Dean Ellis, and a couple of other assistant professors to explain your situation,", he recounted.

"And what did they say? They want to see the prove?"

"Not just that. They’ve gone a step further. They’ve arranged an open session for you. Professors from MIT have been invited, and even Ph.D. students will be allowed in."

"Ok then, I’m open for it. At what time is it?"

"9 AM", he answered.

With my papers securely submitted and the weight of the situation finally easing off, I returned to my room, utterly exhausted.

It was high time to catch some well-deserved sleep.

...P

In my dreams, there was one unsettling change that caught my attention. The nets right in front of me, which had previously shifted from vibrant yellow to red, were now a deep, eerie pitch-black.

I had no intention of visiting them.

But I had grown irritated by the constant alterations.

I yearned to find the meaning behind those changes.

...

The next morning, I rolled out of bed, got ready, and made a beeline for the math department.

No notes.

Just me and what I had stored up in my head.

It was already 8:58. I had purposely decided not to be overly early.

I wanted to arrive right on time and make a confident entrance.

As I got closer to the hall, a student was blocking the way. When he saw me, he sort of stumbled back inside in a hasty manner.

"I’m sorry", I said

"No, No! I’m sorry!", he apologized.

As I strolled in, the student found his seat in the somewhat filled hall.

In the front row, the veteran professors had snagged their spots, each with a piece of paper or two on their desks, eyeing me as I entered.

Professor Milik was right there too, nodding in my direction.

Behind them, about 20 students sat, their expressions a mix of curiosity and interest.

All eyes were on me as I got up on the podium, ready to present my work.

In a dignified manner, I started by uttering a single sentence, "I ask for your forgiveness, but I won’t be delivering a speech. Everyone should have already been informed what this is about."

I then turned around, picked up a piece of chalk and wrote down the formulas for the Goldbachian Kernel.

I then directly addressed the audience, "This...", I pointed at the blackboard, " Goldbachian Kernel Hypothesis, It was believed to be flawed. Never proved. Useless."

As I spoke, the students in the hall leaned forward, scribbling notes and paying close attention.

On the other hand, most of the experienced professors gazed at me, seemingly waiting for me to say more.

Nah, I didn’t go on.

Instead, I reached up, yanked down another blackboard, and proceeded to methodically write out the proof of the Goldbachian Kernel Hypothesis for any and all p-adic bases.

I could hear the sounds of the onlookers scribbling behind me getting louder and more intense.

They raced to keep up with me, as I condensed the prove to just three blackboards.

I turned back around to face the audience and remarked, "This is where I was stuck just two days ago..."

With that, a student in circular glasses from the audience raised his hand, and I allowed him to ask a question.

"I’m sorry, but how did you think about the p-adic expansion of integers, when trying to prove it? I can’t seem to see the correlation"

I was surprised that he asked such a good question.

"You see...the expansion will always converge to a rational number. Any rational number. No matter how massive it is. Proving that any even expansion obeys the Goldbachian Kernel, proves the Goldbach Conjecture"

A brief pause followed, during which I observed that even the professors had a moment of realization.

Then, I continued, "That, of course, holds only for the p-adic numerical systems... But with just one system of equations, everything changes"

Then, I turned back around, wiped the blackboard to create space, and started writing down calculations.

After another 2 blackboards were filled up, I ended up with a single system of equations,

’𝜉(𝑝) = 𝑎𝑟𝑏[𝑛𝑏𝑛𝑑(𝑝)]√𝑝’

’∂𝜉/∂𝑝 = -𝜂𝜉(𝑝)²’

’lim(𝑝→∞) 𝜉(𝑝) = 0’

’𝜉(2) = 1/2’

’𝜉(𝑝)𝜉(𝑞) = 𝜉(𝑝𝑞)’

And finally I derived, 𝜉(𝑝) = ∫[𝑛=1 to ∞] {sin[π(𝑛^2 + 1)𝑝] / [2𝜋(𝑛^2 + 1)𝑝]}

I turned back to the audience, but it was clearly visible that they could barely understand it.

The only people that still had a firm grip on what was happening were Professor Milik and Professor Brille who were both looking at me with their eyes wide open,

"This isn’t finished, right?", Professor Milik asked.

"That’s correct", I said and picked up the chalk to write down one final equation.

∮|𝑥|𝑝-𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑐 𝑑𝑥 + ∫(∇⋅𝐹)𝑑𝑉 = ∑𝑛=1∞ [𝑛(𝑛 + 1)(𝑛 + 2)/6 + 4𝑛³ - 3𝑛² - 𝑛] + 𝜉(𝑝)

That’s when Professor Brille snapped, "You derived the transformation factor between different numerical systems?"

"That is exactly what I did", I answered firmly.

After the congratulations from the dean and other associates, only Professor Milik, Professor Brille, and I remained in the hall.

"Max," Professor Milik inquired, "Professor Brille asked me earlier if you were gonna pit his name as an advisor on your paper?"

I looked at Professor Brille, "I don’t think you did enough, Professor, why should I?"

"After seeing what you have created, Max, I don’t feel like I deserve it, either", he answered

I liked that response, "I can put you on the honorary mentions list, Professor"

After the meeting, I exited the hall, my mind buzzing with the need to contact a law firm.

But I also knew I had some grocery shopping to tackle first.

I picked up a bag from my room and headed to the local market.

As I went about my usual routine, gathering groceries, I found myself reaching for a pear. Just as I was about to pick it up, I heard a voice "Are those fresh?"

I turned to the source and I saw an average looking middle aged man with some bald spots, wearing an old brown jacket.

"I have no idea", I answered.

"I thought you would know, Maximillian", he stated.

I looked at the man, stunned. Who was he?

"Just pick up your groceries like you usually do, maybe we can find some fishing nets?", he said with a calm expression.

I was confused, but at the mention of the fishing nets, I realized something, and followed the man.

He continued to pick stuff up from the shelves into his shopping card and I did the same.

"You seem like a nice guy, Maximillian, I think we should meet up some time, how about the Boston Public Garden?"

"I guess..."

"And bring a sci-fi book with you, we could share some stories"