As starlight fell over the vast bowl of Poritrin sky, he sat alone in his cabin drinking a warm fruity beverage. He stared at Norma's calculations, working them repeatedly in his mind, watchful for errors while trying to understand. This young, unknown mathematician seemed to harbor no pretensions, as if she simply pulled new ideas out of the clouds and wanted to share them with a man she considered her intellectual comrade. Stymied by some of her derivations, he realized that his doubts were more about his own lack of ability than about her postulations. Norma Cenva seemed divinely inspired?