Their idle chat lasted for another ten minutes before they reached the research area.

"So," Gavin announced. "This is it?"

"What," Maria sniped, "did you figure that out by analyzing the gravity again?"

"Nope." He grinned. "The electronic hums in the walls."

"What?"

Garth pointed wordlessly to the large, painted words on the wall that read "research." Maria shut up quick, and he turned to their charge.

"That's right. You ever wanted to show your results in a real lab?"

But the expression on Gavin's face wasn't the ecstatic one they'd come to expect.

"I would love to demonstrate my thesis," he began, "but it's not that simple." That, in fact, had been one of the reasons his paper had been so poorly received: he had a theory (he thought, in fact, that it was a damn good theory), but no evidence. And evidence was hard to come by.

"That's why you ain't gonna tell it just to us."

They reached a door and Garth pulled it open, ushering the other two in.

"Meet Professor Richards."

Inside a relatively cluttered laboratory stood a gaunt, mousey man with dark circles under his eyes. He glanced up at them with a wary look and fumbled for a cup of what looked like coffee. Mass Effect technology hadn't changed everything.

"That's 'Doctor' Richards, thank you. Has been for years." He peered at Gavin from behind thick glasses and sized the prisoner up. If he had shown some sign of being just a little insane, Gavin might have thought him a terrible cliché.

"Biotics, huh?"

Our protagonist realized he was being questioned after the resulting silence dragged out for a couple seconds.

"Err, yes. That was the subject of my thesis." He shifted his feet and resisted the urge to look downwards.

"Thesis. Hah." The self-proclaimed professor scoffed. "We run you through hell and spit on your research just to turn around and use it to make our institutions look smart." He shook his head. "God, am I glad to be out of academia. I bet you are too, eh?"

Gavin opened his mouth to disagree, but shut it. Not only was he basically a refugee from the university system at the moment, but it simply wouldn't do him any good.

"Alright, alright." Richards sipped his coffee and recoiled in disgust. "Too cold." He bustled about, trying to find a coffee maker underneath scattered glassware, papers and assorted lab equipment. "Well, don't keep us waiting. Have at it." Garth keyed his omnitool, projecting the distinctive chime of a recording's beginning.

The subject of attention hemmed and hawed. He had some misgivings, but they were quickly overrun; no force in the universe would be enough to keep him from talking about his research.

"Well," he sighed. "Biotics are a function to some degree of Element Zero. In humans, they're a result of organs developed from 'eezo' radiation—a chance of mutation pretty much unaffected by amount of exposure, so the mutation has become more common over the years to plateau in the last 50—and enhanced by the use of cybernetic implants of continually increasing power and decreasing side effects."

Maria was leaning against the wall, arms folded. Garth glanced down at his omnitool every now and then but largely kept his eyes on Gavin. Ex-professor Richards set his coffee brewing and nodded every now and then. When a pause appeared he impatiently seized it.

"Yes, yes. We know all that already."

"Exactly," Gavin confirmed. "That's what we do know about Biotics. What we don't know is much larger, and most of our original questions have barely been addressed. A lot of scientists have given up, honestly. Even the Asari—who are almost 100% Biotics and have been for thousands of years—don't really know how they work. As far as I can tell, they dropped that before humans decided farming was a pretty neat trick."

That was something Gavin had never understood: a mystery, in his opinion, was only a mystery because someone hadn't thought about it hard or smart enough.

"Now, we're not stupid. We know the beginning and the end: at the end, a biotic force or event is observed, usually as some form of telekinesis. About 50 years ago we also discovered something about the beginning. It turns out Biotics involve something neurological and there's a sense to it. Here's something that's not popular knowledge: every biotic effect is called upon by sequences of nerves. This helped us understand some distinctions. By mapping these nerves, we can see some interesting patterns. 'Warp' and what we call 'Singularity,' for example, are both projectiles. And indeed, there's a nerve that the two share. You can call that the 'projectile' nerve."

"Too oversimplified," Richards chided. Maria was watching intently but Garth was fighting off sleep. Gavin launched back into it.

"It's certainly more complicated than that. But if you want to learn about 'junk' sequences and how nerves actually work or are put together, you can read a book. Or my thesis proper." His lips quirked into a smile. "But that's where the discovery ended. Ignoring several small finds and the increasingly refined adaptor technology, we may as well still be in 2173, ten years ago."

"Enough stalling. Your contention?"

Gavin gritted his teeth. This was the crux.

"My contention… is that the creation of Biotic effects is only partially informed by the nerve sequencing of its production."

Richards' voice was cold. "In your own words. Don't hide behind your pre-written topic statement."

He forced the words out. "There's no reason that Biotics manifest as they do. Therefore, they must be conceptually manipulated, not fixed in nature."

The two men of science stared at each other while Garth and Maria watched. Gavin dropped his eyes first.

"Thank you for your contribution," Richards intoned. "That's all I need from you."

They led Gavin away. There were no words spoken on the long walk to his new cell.