“Mr. McCullen?” the adviser asked, scoffing at the fact that he was on his phone during their meeting.
“Yes, sir… here it is!” Ronan exclaimed. He got up and hurried around the desk to stand beside the man as he held his phone out for both of them to see. “This is my student portal at M.I.T.. It’s got everything about me in it. My grades, my attendance, my scholarship status — everything. You’ll even see my schedule for the upcoming semester.”
The adviser sat up a little straighter and accepted Ronna’s phone from him, but still held it where Ronan could scroll through the screens as he continued to show him the information found there.
“You’ll find separate tabs that detail my lab classes and experiments both in process and completed. In addition, there’s a tab I added myself that is focused on my thesis. It is a snapshot of my academic achievement and process from the first day of my freshman year.” Ronan stood back and allowed the adviser to scroll through his student portal unimpeded. “I’ll contact the school today, put in a formal request to send all my records, transcripts, detailed lab experimental reports included to you for consideration. I know the time constraints are not in my favor, but I will personally fund anything necessary to gain access to the classes I’ll be needing for this semester. I’m scheduled for twenty-five hours including labs.”
“Twenty-five?! Most students try to maintain no more than eighteen, and they prefer fifteen.”
Ronan smiled. “I’m not most students. My plan is to complete my master’s degree within the next year and half, then go straight to my doctorate.”
“Also in a small amount of time,” the adviser said.
“I am able to shoulder more classes than most. I get bored if I only take the expected classes. I need to be challenged. This is standard for me.”
“I remember that from our original interest in you, Mr. McCullen. You were quite impressive then, and have obviously become even more so.”
“Thank you, sir. But honestly, I’m more interested in what can be done for me this semester than any praise. I’m not asking for allowances for classes. I’m only asking for the opportunity and if given that opportunity, once all my information is received and in order, you won’t hear from me again until it’s time to register for the fall semester.”
“Can I show this to the president of our university?”
“You can show it to anybody you want to show it to, including God, if you think it would help,” Ronan said.
“The number of students in the master’s program are not as many as in the underclass program. It may be possible to get you into some of the classes you need. Others may not be available this semester, which would mean you’d have to take them next. I’m sure we could offer others in their places, though. If we can get you approved.”
“Anything you can do…” Ronan said.
“It would only be probationary, you understand. At least until your official documents arrived.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I make no promises of financial gifts for next semester. It will all be up to the board and what is and is not already promised, verses what is available — if anything.”
“I understand, sir.”
The adviser went back to scrolling through the tabs on Ronan’s student portal. “Your thesis is on Molecular Robotics and DNA Transport in The Human Genome?”
“Yes, sir. Basically, if we can program the patient’s DNA to recognize the prosthesis as part of the body, the body itself would operate the prosthesis.”
“Fascinating.”
“And if we can make the DNA recognize the prosthesis, it’s not that much further to use human DNA to grow new extremities to use as prostheses, rather than having it operate the robotic ones we attach.”
The adviser sat back and looked up at Ronan, who still stood beside him. “And from there you could feasibly implant robotic machinery with the human genome, giving them sentience.”
Ronan smiled at the man and shrugged. “At that point, would they even still be robotic?”
The man sat there for only a few more moments before he looked up at Ronan again. “Can you wait here while I go speak to the president of the university?”
“I’ll be happy to.”
The man stood, lifted Ronan’s phone toward him to indicate he was taking it with him. “I’ll be right back.”
“If you lose the connection, just sign in again. My sign on information is saved in the phone.”
The adviser nodded. “I shouldn’t be long.”
Chapter 4
