Dr. Konrad Dietrich
“Construction is a dream ideal, transfer of power - I’d like to think we could speed up our progress with a few tweaks in how it comes together,” Konrad agreed, though rolled his eyes in good humour, “Biologists.” The word was half laughed, “I recall there being some green thumbs aboard, we’d have to see whether they’re not headed straight outside - I know I would, they don’t trust their instruments as much as they should,” A sort of Dead Reckoning was what Dietrich presumed, throughout his career of mixing in circles of hypotheticals and climate conferences. In their defence, it always seemed as if the Chemists started the most arguments.
Tremaine detailed her plan, earning a stern nod as the physicist’s eyes widened ever so slightly, “Subgrid-scale processes for our physical parameterization? I’ll have a numerical model calculated as soon as you say … ah, what is it? Bob? Bob’s your uncle,” His brows scrunched together hesitantly, “No worries!” The Swiss’ voice lilted upward in enthusiasm of having something to take his mind off the dreadful malaise lingering from stasis. Every W sharped to a pointed V, with gratuitous amounts of slightly fuzzy sch. As if his words were vignetted to a soft effect.
Atmospheric physics was something he’d done for years - though always guesswork when viewing other planets from afar to measure their core components. From that they’d draw accurate representations of weather, climate, temperature; the process was boring but entirely soothing. In between waiting for the computer programming, he’d already made the decision to go digging for the ionization chamber, seeking an accurate representation of how much interference there’d be. Hardly enough to kill yet he supposed any alterations of lower or inflated measurements would have some impact on communications.
“As for tides, I’ll see about modelling it against the Earth’s. See what position the sun holds in relativity to the lunar tide while possible, otherwise I suspect our seasons may be dictated on alterations to both.” Konrad eventually came to pause in the rambling, rolling the sleeves of his jumpsuit.
“Wunderbar, perfect direction. Don’t get yourself lost out there, we’ve only got the one of you,” The Doctor arched his expression, sincere. The laboratory door shuttered for a second time, entering a young albeit slightly nervous woman. Came across as no older than eighteen which proved a surprising notion - reminding himself it was the best and brightest. A prodigy no less?
“Ah, no apologies,” Konrad aimed a well-timed point, “It’s only the first day, I suspect until tomorrow we’ll be down on numbers waiting for people to recover.” He offered his hand, as he’d done to Tremaine only moments prior, “Konrad Dietrich, Astrophysics PhD - and please, don’t worry on account of the wake-up call, time isn’t linear if you ask me. Late is simply a misalignment to the human schedule,” A boyish grin followed, “The last time I was on time was my own birth.”
Joking aside he pointed to Edie, now napping at the desk, “My daughter Edith and … well I’ll let Dr. Tremaine introduce herself, if you need me I’ll be booting up the computers.”