The Keys of Calculus

[Seeker]

So, this is more of an experiment than anything else. I'm trying to use a post-apocalyptic adventure setting as a basis for presenting the fundamentals of calculus. No idea how well this will work, if it works at all. I'm happy to hear about anything you find wrong with it.

Chapter I: The Scientist
Alfred jolted awake. Always the same dream. Every night. Ever since that old man came with that old, stupid note. As if he even knew what it meant, let alone how it could somehow save civilization. As if civilization was anything but an abstract concept.

He gathered his equipment. He strapped his two battle axes, bow, and quiver of arrows to his back. On his belt hung a longsword, a machete, a sabre, a mace, and a dirk. His left arm bore a large, circular shield. There was a throwing knife up each sleeve and one down his boot. “For good measure,” he told anyone who asked. Not that anyone would ever question someone that heavily armed.

It wasn't just the weapons. He sported every ounce of well-toned muscle one would expect from a warrior of his repute, and then some. He had none of the scars.

Alfred stretched. If that old man was right, three other warriors should be assembling on the plateau above him fairly shortly. He started ascending the last of the mountain. Although he could have made it up last night, he felt that the crevice where he had slept provided more cover. No use taking chances.

A brisk wind played through Alfred's hair, blowing long brown strands of it across his face. Alfred laughed in response and propelled himself up the mountain even faster, springing from ledge to ledge like a tiger. He loved the chill mountain air. He loved climbing mountains. He was built for them. His hands were so calloused that he could easily grasp handholds that would injure any other man. Yes! This was his environment, and here he ruled.

He stood triumphantly atop the plateau, sweat trickling down his back and face. He breathed deeply. Definitely the best workout he'd had in a few days. The warrior glanced around to see if anyone else had arrived. If that old man was lying....

But no. He saw them a few hundred meters ahead. Or at least, he saw some people. They could just be a random clan. He quickly ran through his options. It didn't take long. Apart from trying to take them out with his bow, there wasn't much else to try besides talking to them. He jogged forward. Wouldn't do to scare them with a full sprint.

It was not long before got to them. Two men, both about average height. One carried a longsword at his side and had a bow slung over his back. A pack hung at his side.  The other had a flamberge and a spear. He appeared to carry most of his supplies on his belt. Neither wore armor. They stared at each other awkwardly. The man with the bow coughed. Finally, Alfred stepped forward and introduced himself.

The one with the spear stepped out and shook Alfred's hand. “Hi. I'm René and this is Pierre.” Pierre grunted acknowledgment.

“Pleased to meet you,” Alfred replied. “But I though there were supposed to be four of us.”

René shrugged. “Oh, I'm sure the last one will turn up sometime.”

It was then that Alfred realized what was wrong with the picture. Neither René nor Pierre seemed to be breathing hard at all. In fact, they didn't even seem like they had just climbed a mountain.

“I'm sorry, but when did you get here?” Alfred asked them. “Last night?”

“Oh, we just got up here a few minutes ago actually,” replied René . “Why do you ask?”

Before Alfred could answer, a scream split the air. “What was that!” René exclaimed. He turned to Pierre, but he had already sprinted off in the direction of the scream.
 



Sophie grunted as she searched for another handhold on the cliff face. The closest one she could find was a good meter out of her reach. Why, oh why had that old man chosen the single most inaccessible plateau in the whole country as a meeting place? She grimaced. So near the top and no way to get there.

She considered the ledge jutting out a meter over her head again. There was no good way back down, and that seemed to be the only way up. If only she could get her legs into a more solid position. She tried to maneuver her right leg up to be on the same level as her left. As she lifted it, her left leg slipped. She gasped as she started to fall. She quickly put her right leg back and caught herself. She swore. This was not good.

Her arms started trembling from exertion as her hands began to sweat. Sophie began to feel her grip fading. The sweat acting as a lubricant, she wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.  And her gloves were tucked nicely in the back of her pack, inaccessible. Letting go to wipe her hands this high up would be folly.

There remained only one way out. Sophie jumped. Time seemed to pause as the ledge came to her, as it grew ever larger and approached ever more slowly. She felt the air on her face, as it fought against her ascent. She felt every frightened beat of her heart, half fearing that its excessive pounding would throw her off course. And she saw, too late, as the ledge finally came within reach and her arms stretched out to embrace it, the jagged stone awaiting her hand.

She screamed.

She hung, praying for a way out. To tighten her grip would cause the rock to penetrate farther into her hand. Not to do so would mean certain death. She tried to focus on the feeling of the blood running down her arm to take her mind off the pain. To think that she had risked it all, and lost, on the slim word of some old man. Embarrassing.

At the moment when she was about to give up and let herself fall, Sophie noticed a slim figure gliding gracefully, if recklessly, down the cliff face. He landed atop the ledge that was suspending her, grabbed her hand, and silently began working the rock out. 

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Save your breath,” he said.

Having removed the stone, he helped her onto the narrow ledge. Bracing himself against the mountain, he turned.

“Climb onto my back,” he said.

Perceiving that talking to him would be useless at the moment, she obliged.

He grabbed onto her arm. “I do have to breathe, you know,” he said.
Sophie apologized and adjusted accordingly.

“Are you sure you can do this?” she asked.

He nodded. Sophie rested her head on his shoulder as he slithered up the cliff, thankful that the stranger did not let his black hair grow long like most people did. At that point, she needed all the small blessings she could get.

The final ascent went smoothly, and despite her hand, she had no trouble hanging on. When they reached the top, the man laid her down. She tried to rise, but he gently pushed her back.

“You'll need to lie still while I work on your hand,” he said quietly.

Reaching for a bag that lay beside a boulder, he deftly selected some supplies and began cleaning and binding the wound. Sophie was still unsure what to make of him. Presumably one of the other three warriors assigned to this seemingly pointless quest.

Before she could finish her musings, she saw two other men approach. The first appeared rather young, twenty-five at the most, with shoulder length black hair. He sported a winning smile, and his posture was impeccable. Perhaps a bit too impeccable.

The second man was a mountain.

“Ah, Pierre!” the first one said. “I assume this girl was the one screaming?”

Pierre nodded and continued working.

“I am René. This is Alfred, and you've already met Pierre. You were also sent with a note, yes?”

She nodded. “I'm Sophie, of the Corsa Clan.”

At this point, Pierre had stopped working and released her hand. She rose slowly, testing it out. The pain, though diminished, threatened to overwhelm her. Her teeth dug into her lip, struggling to fight it back. Sophie clenched her other hand and forced the pain away. Taking one last deep breath, she looked up.

“So what now,” she asked.

Alfred stared incredulously. “Impressive,” he muttered.

“But surely her swift recovery must be due to the pain-reducing herbs Pierre administered,” said René.

“I was out of painkillers,” replied Pierre,” raising an eyebrow.

“Then she is indeed most tenacious,” said René, falling silent.

Sophie cleared her throat, annoyed that everyone was focusing on her hand rather than the old man or the notes.

“Well, if you're quite finished discussing my recovery-” she began.

“She is a fool,” Pierre cut in.

Sophie cut off in astonishment. Everyone stared at Pierre. He sat arranged his pack, apparently unperturbed. What gave him the right to tell her off? What basis did he have for his conclusion? Irate, she struggled to control her anger.

“So did you have a point to that,” she asked, “or do you just enjoy humiliating people?”

René was the next to recover.

“I'm sure he didn't mean that,” he said, throwing a look to Pierre. “He's just a bit obstinate sometimes.”

“I meant what I said,” Pierre replied, raising his head to look at Sophie. “Only a fool would climb this mountain without doing some scouting first. She chose the most difficult face there was. If you had looked for an easier way, you would have found a smooth path to the top.”

Everyone watched in silence as Pierre finished his rummaging. Sophie silently berated herself for not looking around and silently berated Pierre for tactlessly bringing it up. She found it hard to stay angry at him, however. He had saved her life after all. The pain was still distracting her a bit as well.

“So, are you going to stare at me all day, or are we going to figure out this business with the old man and the notes?” Pierre said, rising to his feet. He hoisted his equipment on his shoulder and pulled out a small, rolled up piece up paper.

“I don't seem to be able to open mine,” he said.

Sophie and René affirmed that they could not open their notes either. Alfred on the other hand, pulled out a flattened parchment.

“Mine opened by itself. Can't understand it though,” he said. As the other three went over to look at it, a bearded old man appeared in their midst. Sophie jumped back in shock. He was taller than any of them, and though his hair was white with age, he seemed to possess an air of majesty.

“Hello,” he said. “My name is Stephen Hawking.”

[Cobraroll]

Wow. Great written, and what a twist at the end. Definitely a story to follow.

Just a friendly advice: All the line breaks make the story easier to read, but you'll get into trouble with the character limit. Also, I assume you write this in a writing program and copypaste it here? I've lost a chapter in my story once on the fifth to last line because I wrote it directly into the reply box, accidentally closed the tab, and had to rewrite it entirely. It also gives more time to editing.

Again, great written. I look forward to seeing more!

[SirIngusBingus]

Any story having to do with Calculus is awesome in my book, but I have to catch up on Emergence before I can read this. I'll get around to it eventually, though.

[Seeker]

Thanks for the advice. However, I would much rather break up a chapter over two posts for the sake of readibility. And yes, I do use a text-editor.

Also, be sure to let me know if any of the characters get Mary Sue-ish. They're all supposed to be very awesome at what they do, but it's easy to go over the top.

[Seeker]

Ugh. I was optimistic at first, but the more I think about this, the more impossible it seems. I give up. I can't do it. I don't have enough time to make it work.