@mxnstrxsities/ welcome strater
Delancourt drummed her fingers over the hard top of her notepad and watched the clock hands on their slow journey around the clock. Visiting archives had been the theme of the week. She’d been in search of documents on dark matter work, much of which was apparently hard to get to. So she’d been sent from one archive to another, held on endless phone class as archivist after archivist tried to see what documents had what releases and if they matched her research needs. Usually, the answer was, they didn’t and she was once again out of luck.
But then, she’d been given a tip and ended up here...wherever here really was. She’d been sitting in a rather uncomfortable plastic chair, her notepad folded into her lap, her backpack at her feet, and the growing wish that she’d brought a jacket despite her almost full length sleeves. But she needed to find these papers. She needed to understand what Fritz Zwicky had done.
As someone entered the room, Delancourt took to her feet, cradling her notebook against her chest. “Hello!” she beamed, “Are you Avina Lu?” The name came hesitantly, as if she was uncertain about its pronunciation. “I’m Delancourt. I called about some papers?”
