Ody Does Math
“Good morning, teacher.” sang the kids, faces radiating vitality.
Indeed, it was a good morning. You can hear the larks chanting in the forest, oak leaves whispering secrets of the wind, and see the open fields bathing in the blazing sunlight casted by Lord Helios. Every bit of this scenery was calling for your attention.
But now is not the right time for that. Commented Athena, in her mind. Now is the time for their math class, and none of them can escape this fact.
So she simply nodded to their greeting. So far so good. She gave a quick glance around the classroom. Odysseus, her favorite student, seemed rather eager for the class. He’s doing good as always, Athena thought. Eurylochus, on the other hand, seemed quite unsettled. Curious. Is it because of his homework? Athena wondered. And as she set her eyes on the next student, she called:
“What are you doing there, Mr. Polites?”
She could see his panic alright. But soon as Polites reclaimed himself she heard him say: “Sorry, Ms. Athena. I was just trying to pack this bag real quick.”
“What for?”
“Er, Ms. Athena…I don’t suppose this is the right place to say—”
“What for, Mr. Polites?”
He sighed. “It’s for a friend of mine, really. Today’s his birthday.”
As he finished, Athena caught a glimpse of the mild blush on Odysseus’s face. It wasn’t hard to figure out what exactly was happening here, but she merely said:
“Well, in that case, I might as well congratulate this friend of yours with a ‘happy birthday’. Hope he gets to be a valiant warrior, a warrior of the mind. And yes, you may sit down, Mr. Polites.”
As everybody settled on their seats, Athena quickly chalked a line of Greek on the blackboard. It reads: ΣΤΟΙΧΕΙΑ ΓΕΩΜΕΤΡΙΚΑ (Elements of Geometry). As soon as she finished, she said:
“Welcome to today’s math class, everyone. We’ll begin with a discussion on a simple problem in your textbook. Now, please turn to page 43, and evaluate the problem quickly. I’ll ask for your ideas in a few minutes.”
It’s not hard. Thought Odysseus. Just some simple geometry. You draw a perpendicular BC at point B with half the length of AB, and…
“Mr. Eurylochus, if you may?”
Eurylochus’s hesitation was all written on his face. And his silence was loud enough to speak for his cluelessness. I should help him. However, it’s not my turn. Thought Odysseus.
Athena apparently noticed something. “Mr. Odysseus, if you may?”
“Yes ma’am. You need to draw a perpendicular BC…now we have an auxiliary right triangle ABC, right? Draw an arc with center C and radius BC intersecting the hypotenuse at a point D. Then draw an arc with center A and radius AD intersecting AB at a point, say E. Now E should be the golden ratio point.”
“Good job. Now prove it.”
”Prove it?” now it was Odysseus’s turn to hesitate, but he hoped that he didn’t show it. However, Athena was quick to pick up something…else. “Well,” he started, “all I gotta do is…huh, what’s this bag for?”
A look at Polites was sufficient to explain everything.
“Mr. Polites! You seem quite eager to hand the present out, I see. Why don’t you give Mr. Odysseus a hand, by proving this point E to be the golden ratio point as he claims?”
Polites was eager, alright. He stood up swiftly, and said, “May I have a chalk, Ms. Athena?” After a moment Polites finished the proof on the chalkboard, saving the day. Then Athena complimented both Polites and Odysseus, and the class moved on.
But Eurylochus was uncomfortable with the compliment that Odysseus had received. Geometry is his strong point alright, thought Eurylochus, but let’s just wait till we get to arithmetics.
…
And soon they got to arithmetics. But there were only 10 minutes left for the class. So Athena decided to give a little quiz.
“I have a challenge, a test of skills.” said Athena, “the problem is, are you all ready for it?”
All nods. Ok. “Then let us begin by introducing a geographic fact. This is Troy, 600 miles away from us if you travel by sea. Now suppose that a ship travels at a speed of 5.755 miles per hour without the wind, and it is heading from Troy to Ithaca in full speed, and when it is 2.8 miles away from Ithaca it takes a turn to Temesa, sailing through 290 miles in total, and from there to Aeaea 158 miles away. Suppose the ship sails in a uniform speed, without any wind. How long does it take in total?”
Odysseus could see their expressions clearly. He could see Eurylochus busy doing the calculations, which wasn’t a surprise at all since he was so good at it. I could use a good right-hand man like him. Odysseus thought. And let’s see how Polites is doing. He seems to be struggling with it, which is not a good sign…
But what are you doing, Odysseus?
He had no idea. To be honest he haven’t even figured out how a decimal point works, but he’ll do it anyway, after all he’s a warrior of the mind! What do those miles add up to? 420? 420 divided by 5.755 is…730, right? Wait that 730 looks so familiar…isn’t that twice as long as 365 days? My goddess, that’s a really long time!
“Mr. Odysseus, what’s your answer?” From afar, he could hear Athena calling to him. But this time, there is no more hesitation. He had found his confidence. He knew his result to be true, though somehow he doubted the validity. But he’s gonna answer it anyway, knowing that had it been wrong, the fault was not his at all, but Athena’s. She provided the data, didn’t she? So nothing can go wrong. Just you chill, just you stand, just you answer.
”Ma’am…it’s two long years.”
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okay so you know how it goes: fourteen comes to life in thirteen's clothes. and they're both too short and too loose and entirely too bright for his frame of mind. they worked with a doctor who hid everything behind a too wide smile; not so much with a doctor whose pain and tiredness is written across his face
he needs to change. obviously
and then the star beast starts, and fourteen leaves the tardis, and he's still in thirteen's clothes
he just. he doesn't know. how does he choose new clothes? he feels wrong. how will wearing something else change that?
(donna tells him that it's christmas, mate; it's bloody freezing. maybe wear longer trousers, yeah? also he's both too young and too old to wear braces. just a friendly note)
he doesn't have to explain who he is to the unit scientist, not with those clothes. instead he talks about how he doesn't understand why he looks like this. why he is this. why this face? why isn't he someone new?
actually. maybe he is someone new. was he ever this open before? hm
why do you look like that, sylvia hisses, trying to hide him from the daughter he destroyed ruined left
it's a lottery, he replies, purposely ignorant
he still has his thirteenth self's screwdriver. it's too small in his hands
(the whole time they were her, her hands were too small. she didn't like touching anyway, but whenever someone took her hand, it felt wrong. they were too small. sometimes it felt like if she worked fast enough, tinkered about without stopping, she wouldn't have to look at them)
everything goes wrong. his fault, like always
(blimey. of all the things to carry over from the first time he had this face, it had to be the guilt, didn't it?)
you shouldn't look like that, the doctordonna says, and he runs a hand down his face with a tired laugh
no, the doctordonna says, not the face. a hand reaches out to grasp at the collar of his shirt, at the dangling earring chain. this isn't you. who are you, doctor?
like he knows. like they've ever-
she dies.
she lives. he doesn't deserve it. it isn't about him. he still doesn't deserve it
we're letting it go, donna says, and he looks down at himself, at another him's clothes, another him's screwdriver
well, she never was subtle, his donna
the tardis is gorgeous, though when isn't she. he tries to show off his new console to donna, and she rolls her eyes, and drags him off to the wardrobe
unlike normally, where all the clothes are scattered about, the new tardis wardrobe now also has a line of wardrobes stood against the wall. fifteen of them, to be exact
the last wardrobe is open. and empty
he goes to the second to last, and opens it to reveal a wide array of rainbow patterned shirts. she probably would've hated for her things to be organised like this. always creating mess so she wouldn't have to think about anything important. he laughs. and he takes off the sky coloured coat and the worn boots and the earrings and gently places them inside. tag, he thinks, as he closes the doors
and then he moves down to the eleventh wardrobe, full of brown coats and blue suits and neatly pressed shirts and pairs of converse. and he stands in front of it. and he wonders
after a moment, donna's like wait do you want me to leave?? you never cared about nudity before, did you? and he's like oh actually i do feel more self conscious. huh. weird.
he doesn't have to say, i think i'm a different person. not to donna. she just gives him a smile, and a shoulder nudge, and tells him she'll see him in the console room
the last wardrobe is empty
he takes a breath, and then goes to rummage about in the rest of the clothes
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