conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a story titled The Collapsium about Ring, Collapsium, Tamra with the genre: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: the author is a certified science fiction treasure. A real-life rocket scientist with a gorgeous writing style and rapier wit to boot, the author continually sets a very high standard for good old-fashioned space stories. In The Collapsium , the author builds on a lovely novella to tell the far-future story of two scientists entrenched in a rivalry that may save, or destroy, the solar system. Tamra Lutui, the Queen of Sol, brings together the brilliant enemies in order to prevent the Ring Collapsiter, a vast ring of strange matter, from falling into the sun. So it is that Bruno de Towaji, inventor of collapsium--crystals made up of tiny black holes that can transport matter instantaneously across vast distances--must find a way to work with Marlon Sykes, who came up with the Ring to change the nature of communication forever. the author makes liberal use of his extensive science knowledge, especially when he describes the nature of high-concept physics ideas like collapsium or wellstone (programmable matter!), but luckily, his literary skills are up to the task of moving the narrative along, keeping us in suspense, and creating characters who are worth reading about. His descriptions of the physical phenomena surrounding the artifacts of high-energy material manipulation are deft and fascinating:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: the author is a certified science fiction treasure. A real-life rocket scientist with a gorgeous writing style and rapier wit to boot, the author continually sets a very high standard for good old-fashioned space stories. In The Collapsium , the author builds on a lovely novella to tell the far-future story of two scientists entrenched in a rivalry that may save, or destroy, the solar system. Tamra Lutui, the Queen of Sol, brings together the brilliant enemies in order to prevent the Ring Collapsiter, a vast ring of strange matter, from falling into the sun. So it is that Bruno de Towaji, inventor of collapsium--crystals made up of tiny black holes that can transport matter instantaneously across vast distances--must find a way to work with Marlon Sykes, who came up with the Ring to change the nature of communication forever. the author makes liberal use of his extensive science knowledge, especially when he describes the nature of high-concept physics ideas like collapsium or wellstone (programmable matter!), but luckily, his literary skills are up to the task of moving the narrative along, keeping us in suspense, and creating characters who are worth reading about.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this story.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Collapsium
  Wellstone can also form compounds, amalgams, admixtures, sinters, and even whole solid-state devices; a thin square of it can be a hypercomputer if you like, or a clear glass window, or a stunningly accurate painting of your sister.
  So it's handy stuff to have around, particularly in conjunction with nanoassemblers and other semiadvanced technologies of the third millennium. The thing you need to remember is that by Bruno de Towaji's time it was also dirt-common, its infinite potential mainly in the hands of bored or inept programmers who'd rather be looking at counterfeit naked pictures of the Queen.
  That second widening slightly increases the chance that another proton will fall in, which in turn increases the chances of still another, and a few billion iterations later the invading protons are free to crowd around the event horizon and spiral in, forming an ever-widening hole whose mass can eventually grow to disrupt—and finally crush—the collapsium lattice around it.
  Here's the kicker: the spacing of these invisible knives is known in advance, regardless of the nature or conditions of the experiment. The interval between the first and second row is larger than the interval between the second and third by a ratio of exactly 4.6692016090. The same ratio, always, for smoke curls or ocean waves or ripples through an electromagnetic field. Feigenbaum's number: one of the many mysterious constants that underlie our universe.
  Normal "empty" space is nothing of the kind, is in fact a catchpool of invisible energies at every possible wavelength, and it's only when these wavelengths are excluded—by closely spaced conducting plates, by fierce applications of charge and vibration, or, best of all, by sheets or shells of static collapsium—that anything like "emptiness" can actually be achieved. The physicist Hendrick Casimir had proved as much even before the age of space flight, and the Queendom's communication and transportation networks relied on the principle for their daily operation.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: There's a metallic screech and groan, brass against brass, as the outer hull begins to roll against the bearings connecting it to the inner cage, where his feet are braced. The potter's wheel and gyros hold a fixed orientation in space while the three-meter sphere, complete with chair and storage racks, is rotated around them. Sunlight flashes briefly through one porthole; through the other, the green-white face of Lune, from whence he came.
  Like most men his age, Radmer is a good deal stronger than he looks. Still, the hull's rotation is as difficult to stop as it is to start. It's his own strength he's fighting, the momentum he himself has imparted. Despite the cold, the effort makes him sweat inside his coat and leathers.
  Perfect? Close enough? No, he's off again, drifting somehow from an ideal ballistic trajectory. He starts dialing for another correction, realizes he's out of time, and hurriedly stows the sextant instead, to keep it from becoming a projectile in its own right.
  There are prayers he could utter right now, battle hymns he could sing, but perhaps thinking of them is enough. Quicker, anyway; he runs through several in the blink of an eye. And then the sphere slaps into denser air—more gently than he's expecting. Which could be bad, which could mean he's cut too high, his angle too shallow. Will he skip off the planette's atmosphere to tumble back Luneward in disgrace?
  And then disaster strikes, in the form of a treetop's spreading arms. He doesn't hit them hard, but for an instant there are actual acacia leaves snapping across the porthole glass, and the contact is enough to set the sphere rolling around its inner cage. Which is bad, because the chute, which hasn't fully opened, is fouling—he can see it behind him, an orange-and-white streamer, its hemp lines twirling together in an inextricable mess.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.. End with the sentence ' And in that moment he dares, for the first time in months, to hope.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Finally, Bruno de Towaji matches Radmer's anger, and meets his gaze. "You think so, do you? Smug bastard. Speak the name of your peril, then, and begone from my sight."
  Radmer does as he's told, and has the grim pleasure of watching the old man's face light up with a terrible mix of wonder and righteous anger and, yes, even fear.
  Now de Towaji is fully awake, blinking, looking Radmer up and down. "Lune, you say? The collapsiter grid is gone. Did I dream that? Between the stars we travel no more. How did you get here, lad? And... how will you return?"
  Radmer feels the corners of his mouth begin to stir. Seeing Bruno again has brought back a lot of memories, a lot of old grief. With the clarity of hindsight, he does feel some understanding of his bonds to this man, but they were formed and broken long ago, in events so huge that from the inside they hadn't looked like anything at all. Joyrides and camp riots, the green virile fires of youth.
  But this is too practical a question for a man who wants to be left alone. Radmer senses that a hurdle has been crossed, a new cascade of events set in motion. He will be taking this man, this intellect, this trove of living history back to Lune with him. And in that moment he dares, for the first time in months, to hope.