Humans have incredible potential. They often can't see it, grounded as they are in the hectic machinations of day-to-day life. But every so often, if they hold their head in the clouds long enough, they catch a glimpse of what the Gems have seen since they descended on this troubled little world; each and every one of them is waiting, like a bowstring left slack, for someone to pull them in the right direction. Not that every person is aimed at the right target- some have been cultivated and inspired to do terrible and dreadful deeds. But sometimes- sometimes, when they are notched with an ideal and aimed at something good, something honest, they are capable of marvelous things. Humans are wrought with potential just waiting to be unleashed. But first, they must be willing. Then, it can be coaxed out of them.
Standing with a look of pure exasperation in front of a thrice-erased chalkboard, Pearl wasn't sure if Steven was unwilling or if she just wasn't coaxing properly.
"Alright. Steven," Pearl said tiredly, "let's go over this one more time."
With a small notebook in hand and his tongue sticking out of his mouth, Steven gave the Gem an enthusiastic series of nods. The two were in an impromptu teaching environment, of Pearl's design, in the middle of the beach house, fully adorned with a chalkboard, a comprehensive array of writing implements, and a single school desk acting as Steven's throne. Pearl sighed and picked up her ever-shortening piece of chalk, steeling herself to reintroduce the same lecture she had been introducing for the past half-hour.
"Now, let's say that the magnetic field, represented by these crosses, is coming out of the board."
"Out... of... the board," Steven echoed, writing hectically in his notebook. "Got it!"
Oh, he actually understood! The first two times he insisted that the board had to be a giant magnet for this to be true, so I'm counting this as progress.
"This circle inscribed with a plus represents a positively charged particle."
"I agree, Pearl; that particle is absolutely charged!"
Steven struck a my-joke-is-done-now pose in expectation, to which Pearl could only offer a shaky, conciliatory laugh. "Y-yes, Steven, um... yes. Now, the particle is moving in this direction, up the board, such that its motion is exactly perpendicular to the direction of the magnetic field. In which direction will the magnetic force act upon the particle?"
"Um..." Steven trailed off, resting his head in his hands and furrowing his brow in concentration.
He's thinking about it! Yes, Steven! This is what the pursuit of knowledge is all about! Hitting your head against something new and wracking your mind upon it until you find-
"So... in this situation, what, exactly, does, say... per-pen-di-cu-lar mean?"
Oh my, I was mistaken.
"It means that they are at a right angle to each other."
"And... is there a wrong angle for them to be at?"
Pearl sighed again; an expression that she was growing accustomed to. "No, Steven. Well, yes, I suppose if they were at anything other than ninety degrees from each other- but that isn't the point. The point is-"
Wait, what is the point?
Pearl grabbed a pair of pencils and placed them on the chalkboard; one pointing straight out and one pointing straight up. "It's like this, Steven."
"Oh! Then that's easy!"
"I-it is?!"
"Yup!" Steven declared, closing his eyes triumphantly. "The thingy is gonna move outta the board!"
Pearl stared at the young Gem, who was now lifting his chin up and awaiting confirmation. After several long seconds of silence, Steven opened one eye and saw Pearl, slowly shaking her head and stammering with a way to say 'no' nicely.
"But that's how an electric field would do it!" Steven complained. "Curse you magnetic field, why can't you be more like your brother!"
Pearl quickly brandished a smile. "Don't give up, Steven! Just remember the, ah..."
Oh, what was that hand-based learning device?
Pearl flipped through her copy of Electricity and Magnetism, For Kids! until she found the relevant figure. "-the... right-hand rule?"
What a bizarre way of indicating the direction of a vector cross-product, Pearl mused, pointing her thumb in the air, her index finger away from her, and her middle finger to the left.
"Right! Of course! The right-hand rule!" Steven said in exaggerated realization. He mimicked Pearl's hand configuration with an excited grin. One that fell, very steadily, into a confused pucker. "So... what does this mean again?"
With another sigh, Pearl went to the chalkboard and started drawing a hand. She was about to begin labeling the fingers in elaboration when the temple door opened.
"Oh, Garnet!" Pearl exclaimed, "I was wondering if you could give me a hand with Steven. I've been trying to explain magnetic fields to him but I- I just can't connect."
They both looked at Steven, who was now pretending to shoot his hand like a gun with two perpendicular barrels. Garnet responded with a single, stoical hum, then fell silent for the better part of a minute.
Is she reading the chalkboard? I guess I can't really tell, what with her glasses and all.
"Pea'l, this stuff's too ha'd," Garnet said, finally breaking her silence. "Steven can't unde'stand somethin' like this."
Pearl balked. "Too hard? But you're the one always telling me that I should 'believe in Steven' and 'have more faith in him!'"
"Yeah, well... this stuff's too ha'd."
Pearl groaned and rested her head on the chalkboard, eliciting a dull thud.
Just what am I doing wrong? Never mind what the best method to teach him is, I can't even tell what Steven does and doesn't know.
Garnet marched over to Steven and picked him up, slinging him under one arm. "C'mon Steven, it's time fo' trainin'."
"Training!" Steven yelled, completely sideways and beaming.
As she passed by, Garnet put a firm, reassuring hand on Pearl's shoulder. "Maybe you just need to lea'n to teach."
Pearl smiled at the simple gesture, waving Garnet and Steven off. As soon as they left the beach house, the Gem slumped to the floor, eyes cast downwards.
Learn to teach, huh?
Glancing around the room passively, her gaze caught on several stacks of papers sitting messily on the kitchen counter.
Steven left those scripts of his lying around again, didn't he? Oh well, if nobody else is going to, I guess I'll have to clean them up.
With a small, satisfied 'hmph!', Pearl started organizing the piles; cleaning up messes always made her feel better. But her efforts paused when she saw a familiar sheet of paper.
"The Application of Quantum Teleportation in Fully Deterministic Superluminal Communication Networks?"
"Wa-hoa, what's all that mumbo-jumbo supposed ta mean?"
Pearl turned at the familiar voice and found Amethyst, sitting on top of Steven's desk and looking at her with, what Pearl imagined was, a mocking grin.
"Amethyst," Pearl hissed through her teeth, "I still haven't forgiven you for... for besmirching my personal log this morning with your silly nonsense."
Pearl tried to show Amethyst as annoyed of a face as she could manage, but, to her surprise, found that she was looking at herself. A very, very purple version of herself.
"Oh Amethyst," the purple Pearl mocked, "you're so silly and have no sense! Now I'm gonna go dance around in the mud and eat corn meal from my pig-pen!"
"A-Amethyst!" Pearl exclaimed, a flustered blush rising to her cheeks. "That is entirely inappropriate! I am-... t-the very idea that I would- oh, you shouldn't be shape-shifting into me anyway! You know what Garnet said about teammates and-"
"Yeah yeah, lighten up," Amethyst conceded, springing back into her normal form. "And, for the record, I'm sorry about your log or whatever. I thought you were just doin' it ta make Steven happy, ya know? I didn't know it meant so much to ya."
Pearl's expression softened. "Well, alright Amethyst. So long as you've learned your lesson, I'm willing to put this all behind us."
"Hey, don't push yer luck," the purple Gem scowled. "I don't have to be this nice ya know."
With that, Amethyst pushed off of Steven's desk and ran outside, yelling after the Gems training on the beach.
I'd almost forgotten why I tolerate her, Pearl chuckled to herself. Turning her attention back to the sheet of paper in hand, Pearl started reading the abstract again.
Oh, I remember this. That fellow, Alan, was holding it when I happened into him at Greg's business. Hah! Just as inane now as it was then. Hold on a moment, what's this?
Pearl held the page up to the light, squinting to read the faded text at the top of the document. "Oh, this page must have printed wrong. Let's see... a dissertation presented to the Department of Physics and the Graduate School of the University of Delmarva- where's that?- in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. Hm. Written by... Alan... oh, I can't make out this last name, it's an absolute mess."
Wait... Alan? As in servant-at-the-car-wash Alan? Bump-into-me-and-fall-down-looking-for-the-printer Alan? And this title... a dissertation? As I understand it, research institutes nowadays require the completion of such a document for the conferral of an advanced degree. But this can't be the same Alan- can it? Oh, but if it is, then this means...
"I openly mocked that person. To his face. About his life's work."
Pearl drooped her face into her free hand. How has Steven figured out all of this... human interaction business? Not that I'm incompetent at it by any means, but- oh, how can anyone ignore such an affront to knowledge as this? How was I to know that this was the supposed culmination of all of his intellectual efforts?
Peeking in between her fingers, Pearl picked up the rest of the dissertation. Perhaps if I read more than one page, I'll have a better opinion of it.
"Not that I'm holding my breath or anything," Pearl stated with a smirk to the empty beach house. She plopped down on the couch- very lightly- and settled in for a midday's read.
It may at least be entertaining.
"...and, in conclusion, this study recommends further investigation into alternative methods for generation of entangled photon pairs, as well as non-hybrid techniques of achieving fully deterministic transport of photonic quantum bits, to approach the ideal of superluminal communication."
Pearl let out a long sigh, letting her arms, and the research paper in her hands, fall to her sides. The sun was just beginning to set, and Pearl felt like she had just finished a short book in one hectic sitting of reading. A small grin worked its way onto her face.
Oh no, keep it together, Pearl.
The grin spread into a smirk, barely contained, through very conscious effort, by Pearl's pursed lips.
This... this is not the polite thing to do. Alan worked very hard on this, I'm sure, and-
Despite herself, Pearl let a small giggle escape. She flung her hands to her mouth.
W-what would Steven say if he saw me like this? Surely something about being smart and not being mean and-
The stop-gap measure that Pearl's palms provided proved too little. A multi-syllabic chuckle followed shortly after her giggle, causing her entire form to shake.
But it was just so... so...
Resolve fading, Pearl finally allowed her hands to fall away and for a full bodied roll of laughter to overtake her. "I-it was just so- haha, oh- just so wrong!"
Pearl fell to one side, holding herself in laughter and barely staying on the couch. She had just gotten the last of her snickers under control when a timid knock graced the beach house's front door.
Who could it be at this hour? Greg is working his car-wash today, no further packages are expected this week, and Connie has scheduled no visits with Steven.
With mild curiosity, Pearl answered the door with as proper of a human greeting as she could remember.
"Why hello. How are you today? What business do you have here at such an unusual hour of the day?"
Hm. That last one may have been a tad brusque.
"O-oh! Um, hi. Hello! Yes, hello. It's, uh, me."
Standing at her doorstep, hand still raised as if unsure whether to knock again, was Alan. Pearl's eyes widened, but she kept her composure as best she could.
Oh dear. We mustn't be rude, Pearl. We must treat him with respect, despite the-
An incriminating grin broke out on Pearl's face. She attempted to stifle it by forcing the corners of her mouth down with the rest of her facial muscles, resulting in a very tense pucker, as though she was trying to hold a very stubborn acorn in her mouth. Alan, slightly unnerved, opened his mouth to ask, closed it again, then resolved to finish his greeting instead.
"Me being Alan, of course."
"Oh yes, of course. Alan. We've met."
"Right! Right, we have. Haha, anyway... I'm here regarding a certain research paper that I believe- well, it was Greg's intuition, actually- that Steven took with him yesterday. Accidentally, I'm sure."
Oh, I'm sure it was an accident, Pearl thought, causing the barely contained grin to spread into a smirk. Dismayed, Pearl placed one hand calmly over her mouth, allowing her lips to take on whatever amused shape they pleased.
"Yes, It's here. Young Steven must have mistaken it for one of his play scripts."
Given the elementary level of understanding displayed in it.
A small giggle escaped from behind Pearl's hand. She quickly stifled it by pressing her palm firmly against her mouth, but it was too late. One of Alan's eyebrows raised, to which Pearl raised both of hers.
Oh no. Breath, Pearl. We mustn't be rude- just think of what Steven would say.
"Right... may I... have it back?"
"Of course," Pearl said, waving her free hand for Alan to step inside. He stared for a moment, scrutinizing her gestural semaphore before deciding that it was, indeed, an invitation. Upon entering, Alan turned in a slow, analytic circle, absorbing as much as his eyes could from his foothold in the beach house.
"I guess it looks... normal," he said under his breath, catching Pearl's attention.
Normal? Compared to what? Oh, I knew we should have done a more comprehensive study on traditional domestic structure and design of the twentieth century before building this place.
"The paper is right over here," Pearl directed, trying to distract Alan from... whatever it was he was looking for. "I just finished reading it and I-"
Oh no. Now he's going to ask for my opinion on it! How am I supposed to remain cordial when the correct things to say are so... impolite?
"Y-you read it? You've read my paper?" Alan snapped predictably to attention, an excited smile adorning his face. "What did you think of it?"
"It was, um, very-"
Pearl interrupted herself with a chuckle, which she waved away very animatedly until it abated.
"I found it quite-"
This time, the chuckle was more akin to a laugh. It took Pearl twice as long to compose herself, but she eventually regained control. However, the more she fought to contain it, the harder it fought back for release. Finally, Pearl buckled under the burden of her own rising laughter.
"It wa- ahaha! Oh it was so misinformed! So- haha!- so off base!"
Alan frowned briefly, but it soon turned into a different, more distant expression. One Pearl recognized from the first time she had spoken against the information in his paper.
"I-if I may... what, exactly, did you find wrong?"
Pearl paused for a moment, looking at Alan in slight confusion. He's not... angry? Upset? This paper was everything his life was leading up to and now... well, now, he surely deserves some sort of explanation.
"First off, it was your circuitous use of human quantum mechanics to only partially explain phenomena that- oh, ahah! A-ahem. Phenomena that can be fully described by a much smaller series of calculations based on a model of inter-dimensional particle interaction. I mean, who would choose such a difficult method to reveal something so incompletely?"
Pearl caught a glimpse of Alan, whose expression had grown ever slightly more troubled.
Evidently, Alan would. Hooo... breath, Pearl. It wouldn't hurt to be less mocking.
"A-and," Pearl managed to continue, "these claims of superluminal communication using classical human methods of data transfer-"
"You don't believe it's possible?"
"Well, sure, if you live in an alternate dimension where information can be read faster than the speed of light!" Pearl's laughter came back anew, causing her to double over and hold the coffee table for support. As her laughter slowly faded, Pearl noticed that, besides her own snickering, the room was completely silent. No cries of indignation, no sobbing, sniveling sadness. Just... silence. In that silence, Pearl noticed that her guest was staring at her, wide-eyed but otherwise blank-faced.
Oh dear, have I offended past the point of expressions of outrage? I- I have to apologize.
"Alan, I do apologize. Perhaps this shouldn't have gone as far as it-"
"...does it exist?"
What?
"I-I'm sorry, does what exist?"
"That dimension. Where information can be read faster than the speed of light. Does it exist?"
W-what?!
"I was actually attempting to make a joke."
A task at which I, apparently, completely failed.
"B-but do they exist? Other dimensions? And I don't mean other spatial dimensions like you'd use to describe a hypercube or something. It's just, well, not the first time I've heard you mention trans-dimensional particle interaction. That implies that there are more dimensions, right?"
Is he... actually interested?
Something small sparked inside of Pearl. At first, she was sure it was just a sentimental hiccup. A typical member of the random variations of emotion that happen when anyone engages in a social exchange with anyone else. But it grew, very slowly, until it could no longer be ignored. She thought of all the duties she had to fulfill; the obligations she had to meet.
Duties like passing my knowledge on. Obligations like teaching Steven.
The feeling swelled, earning a majority her attention. It brushed against the skills she wanted to learn; the experiences she had yet to cultivate.
Skills like being a capable tutor. Experiences like learning how to teach.
It bubbled inside of her, rising like a tide slowly overtaking the shore. And, for a brief moment, it touched, ever so gently, against some small, self-concerned part of herself. The same small knot of emotion that everyone learns to cradle, far, far away from the attention of their peers, lest they find out that each and every one of us desires some external validation; some confirmation of our worth without our egotistic biases.
Somebody wants what I have learned. Somebody values me.
Pearl stared, feeling the sensation threaten to take control of her centers of speech and blurt out an acceptance to this... human's unspoken request.
But how much can I trust him?
The thought fell upon her mind like a hurricane, tearing down the brief empire of warmth that the feeling had built in Pearl's head.
Can a human really handle all this? Would he trade our knowledge- my knowledge- with anyone who bids him the right price? For a bigger house? A better car? Would he take up arms and wield our secrets to line his brief life with silver? Would he... lie to me?
Pearl shook her head, clearing the confusion that threatened to fog her mind. With clarity, the Gem picked up the dissertation, placed it firmly in Alan's hands, and turned him around. "Here is your paper, sir. It gave me quite the afternoon's read, if I may say so myself. Please give Greg my regards and have a pleasant evening."
With a gentle push out the door, Pearl removed a flustered and stammering Alan from the beach house and shut him outside. Sighing to herself, the Gem wandered to the temple and ambled wearily into her room. But, to Pearl's surprise, a vestigial thought had entered her room with her.
It's not like I have to tell him absolutely everything.
Pearl perked at the idea.
His understanding, though based incorrectly, still holds some semblance of being sound. At the very least, it can be built off of. I'll have to identify the elementary gaps of knowledge, but...
She could still make something of Alan.
And if anything's too dangerous, I'll just... withhold it!
Pearl grinned to herself. Let's see if we can't coax something out of him.