Page 40 of The Genius
“The Adélie penguins don’t have many predators on land. They forage their food in the ocean, and the black color on their backs will blend in with the depths when viewed from above, while the white front will keep them from standing out against the bright sea surface when seals or other predators approach from below.”
“Huh. Yes, that makes sense. So, you want me to use their shape for the bottom of the drone?”
Another thought occurred and I grabbed Tristan’s forearm. “The kingfisher!” Excitement filled me from within. It was perfect.
“The kingfisher?”
“Yes, please tell me that you’ve learned about the kingfisher in school.”
“Ehhm,” Tristan scratched his neck. “If we did, I don’t remember it.”
“You can’t learn about aerodynamics and not study the kingfisher.” I pulled out images on my wristband, turning them around in the air, to see the bird from different angles. “The Adélie penguin is a torpedo in the water while the kingfisher dives from the sky into the water to catch fish. It goes down so fast and with such precision that it hardly leaves a ripple when it breaks the surface of the water. Notice the beak – see how sharp it is – and the way the bird’s whole head is like an arrow?”
“Uh-huh.” Tristan shifted in his chair, his eyes blinking as if taking pictures to memorize it. “Show me.”
I found clips of the bird diving.
“Wow, I see what you mean.”
“If you want silent and energy-efficient, you’ll need the minimum of air resistance. This is nature’s recipe. You should imitate this shape.”
“But a drone can’t be shaped like that.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How do you know?”
“I don’t think it would look good. Drones aren’t rockets or birds; they’re not supposed to have pointy fronts.”
I got up, “Do as you want. It’s your assignment, Tristan. If you want to adopt a set of limitations from how youthinka drone is supposed to look like, then your job is easy. Just make another copy of drones from the past four centuries and give it a different color.”
“Shelly, come on. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying there are rules in the field of aerodynamics that you’re not aware of. I studied this, remember?”
I scoffed a little. “If you want to tell me that any of the drones that man has created are superior in aerodynamics compared to the kingfisher and other birds, then I have to question what they taught you in school.”
“Maybe I’m just not visionary enough to see how you could implement it into a design that’s useable.” Tristan stood up too, handing me a pencil. “Please, Shelly, help me out.”
I sighed and took the pencil. “How about if you do like this…” I’d never been good at drawing and was frustrated that the image in my head didn’t transfer well to paper. In the background Nmen at the bar were growing louder and rowdier.
“You could scale it depending on the size needed. I suggest you do different versions of size and then combine them whenever you need to transport a large number of people at events. Otherwise you’ll end up with oversized drones that fly around half empty or sit on the ground most of the time. Consider programming the drones to fly in formation, like real birds do. It will save energy with less wind resistance. Trust me, birds have perfected the formation for millennia.
Tristan and I sat in a bubble of ideas and creation, ignoring the drunken people at the bar. Only when the bar-bots began blinking the ceiling light did we look up.
“Shit.” Tristan swore softly and I noticed that others were getting up from their seats.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, still doodling on one of my ideas.
“They’ve called the police. Probably because someone is drunk and threatening. The light is a signal for people to get out.”
“Oh.” I spotted the group of Nmen arguing by the bar. “Maybe they need help reconciling. Should we offer to help?”
“No!” Tristan was already up, his hands folding the paper with hurried movements. Taking the hint, I finished my drink in a long slurp.
“We should mind our own business and get out of here.” His eyes darted between the men at the bar and me. “Come on, Shelly, hurry.”
We were on our way out when a police squad of two fully armed officers with four police-bots came rushing in. To avoid being trampled, we backed inside again and that’s when the chaos began. The unruly group of Nmen were not open to leaving their drinks, and when the police-bot moved too close, warning the group to calm down or suffer arrest, a large angry-looking guy smashed a glass of beer into the bot, shouting, “Leave me the fuck alone.”
Tristan covered me with his body, pushing me against the wall when things began flying through the air.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered and protected his face with his hands when a steak knife came flying in our direction.
