“Where have you been?” he said. “The movie’s about to start.”
“I know,” I said. I leaned across him and handed Darlene her popcorn and Dr. Gedanken his jujubes. “I was working on the paradigm for quantum theory.”
“And?” Dr. Gedanken said, opening jujubes.
“And you’re both wrong,” I said. “It isn’t Grauman’s Chinese. It isn’t movies either, Dr. Gedanken.”
“Sid,” Dr. Gedanken said. “If we’re all going to be on the same research team, I think we should use first names.”
“If it isn’t Grauman’s Chinese or the movies, what is it?” Darlene asked, eating popcorn.
“It’s Hollywood.”
“Hollywood,” Dr. Gedanken said thoughtfully.
“Hollywood,” I said. “Stars in the sidewalk and buildings that look like stacks of records and hats, and radicchio and audience surveys and bra museums. And the movies. And Grauman’s Chinese.”
“And the Rialto,” David said.
“Especially the Rialto.”
“And the ICQP,” Dr. Gedanken said.
I thought about Dr. Lvov’s black and gray slides and the disappearing chaos seminar and Dr. Whedbee writing “meaning” or possibly “information” on the overhead projector. “And the ICQP,” I said.
“Did Dr. Takumi really hit Dr. Iverson over the head with a gavel?” Darlene asked.
“Shh,” David said. “I think the movie’s starting.” He took hold of my hand. Darlene settled back with her popcorn, and Dr. Gedanken put his feet up on the chair in front of him. The inner curtain opened, and the screen lit up.