At precisely three o'clock in the afternoon, on- what is to Arthur Eddington, at least- the next day, a stray grandfather clock appears in his study. Not to say that it simply blinks into existence with no fanfare whatsoever; it's accompanied by a strange, grinding noise that echoes faintly off the floorboards, and a glowing from behind the face
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It's only once that worry is out of the way that it registers that the Master is in his house despite the fact that no doors were left unlocked, and that there is a grandfather clock resting against one wall that he knows was not there before. However, first things first.
'I apologize, though I don't seem to have lost track of time as much as I feared.' a pause. 'And you can call me Arthur.'
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'Oh, it was time given to a worthy cause, I've no doubt. Arthur.' He adds Arthur's name almost like a postscript, and says it with relish. 'After all, I've all the time in the universe.'
Idly, he makes his way over to the desk, perching himself on the edge in a way which, entirely possibly, is an invasion of Arthur's space. Not that the Master's ever cared much for concepts of personal space. With amusement writ clear on his face, he surveys the pages and pages of notes and equations. Eddington, of course, has an extraordinarily inventive mind for his time, but the theories he's working over so laboriously really are laughably simple.
'Might I ask what was occupying you
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When he begins to speak, the tone is more confident than before, less phased. 'The Hertzsprung-Russell diagram. I believe there's some correlation between mass and luminosity of stars, judging from the pattern. But I can't work out the exact equation.'
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Because with Arthur Stanley Eddington, he could easily change the course of history. He's a revolutionary scientist; someone responsible for taking humanity in an entirely new direction academically and scientifically. Influence him in the right way, help him along here and there, and the world could be changed irrevocably- and perhaps not in any way Eddington himself might like. Not that such differences would seem to be a direct result of his work; causality, after all, is a lovely thing.
So he smiles indulgently. 'Ah, yes. And you're quite right, of course. Luminosity doesn't correlate directly with mass, which, I should imagine, should make things difficult for someone working within ( ... )
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