The month flows by, and the so-called accident never materialises. The royalty arrived via email on the 28th — a modest sum. However, given that publishing articles in many places not only doesn't pay but actually requires payment, he's quite happy to receive anything at all.
When this issue of Einstein Cross finally hits the stands, Min promptly buys a physical copy. Clearly, their operations haven't yet expanded to the Pacific region. Without local distribution channels, delivery relies solely on courier services, which incur steep shipping costs. Straight up eating into most of their royalties already.
"What can I say... Xi P! Come here!"
Min calls out to Xi P, who emerges from the hallway, removing the hood of his hazmat suit as he walks towards the living room. Spotting the book in Min's hands, he pauses, momentarily puzzled.
Min himself is even more confused. Given Xi P's strong insistence, he has ultimately placed those mice in the freezer. Over the past few days, the number of mice in the box has steadily decreased at a rate of one per day. It's clear Xi P hasn't ceased his dissection research on the mice. What can possibly keep him from growing weary of dissecting such creatures so many times? Or is he simply wasting them, performing only partial dissections before discarding each mouse?
'Hmm, the latter seems far more likely...'
Though these thoughts swirls in his mind, he nevertheless prompts out the key word "Paper", and waves the book in his hand. Seeing this, Xi P instantly perks up. Without even removing the rest of his hazmat suit, he plops down beside Min. Reaching out, he flips to the table of contents and looks at Min expectantly.
The direct hand-flipping startles Min, who quickly glances at Xi P gloves. Thankfully, there is no sign of mouse blood or organs on them.
Sighing in relief, Min quickly scans the table of contents. He locates their paper in the middle section: "On the Possible Planetary Systems of Barnard's Star and Wolf 359 and Their Simulations"
The moment Min saw the cover, he knew their paper hadn't been chosen as the featured topic. The cover features two vastly different-sized stars orbiting each other, resembling Sirius and its companion star. Yet when Min sees that their paper hadn't even secured one of the front positions, relegated instead to a middle spot, he can't help but feel a bit disappointed. Everyone knows that in most cases, articles placed earlier in the journal carry greater weight — and this publication is no exception.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Noticing Min's finger pointing to the middle section of the table of contents, Xi P realises the situation too. He immediately leans heavily back against the sofa, his ears drooping slightly in apparent dismay.
Min has to resist the urge to stroke his head.
Xi P quickly regains his composure and signals for Min to turn the page. Glancing at the page footer, Min swiftly turns to the relevant page. What meets his eyes are those all-too-familiar sentences. At first glance, aside from the different formatting, the paper seems unchanged. In some ways, this is good news...
What slightly surprises him is that, while the journal editor hasn't made any content revisions, they have added two high-quality images of the planets at the end. Whether they are hand-drawn by an artist or screenshots from universe sandbox or space engine software, they look impressive and have a strong sci-fi aesthetic. He likes them.
Xi P, however, has a different take. At first glance, he also thinks the two images, which weren't part of the paper, are quite nice. But after scrutinising them a few more times, his expression quickly turns puzzled. He nudges Min, and when Min looks over, Xi P points to a section of the paper.
Following his finger, Min sees that he is pointing at the words "ultraviolet light". Before Min can any questions, Xi P circles that part of the paper with his finger and then points to the accompanying illustration.
Understanding Xi P's meaning, he quickly scan reads the indicated area. This section details atmospheric composition inferences; by estimating a star's age, elements, and formation process, one can partially deduce a planet's elemental makeup. Glancing at the diagram then back at the text, Min doesn't immediately spot any issues, but his intuition prompts a guess: "Is the colour scheme an issue?"
"The colour is wrong. It doesn't match the colours the, atmospheric composition should be." Xi P confirms.
Though Min cannot fathom how Xi P memorised the colour correspondences for each element, one thing is clear: the journal (or the artist who created the illustration) has made a rookie mistake — the colours of the planet's atmosphere are completely wrong!
It really isn't a big deal. Though Min never heard of similar cases, it's easy to guess that this happens from time to time. People in academia know that such illustrations are generally not done by the authors themselves, and the general public might not even notice the problem. Rather than dwelling on this, Min is actually more curious about something else: "By the way, Xi P, is the ultraviolet light we're talking about the same as yours? I mean, the visible light spectrum — are we seeing the same thing?"
The question makes Xi P ponders for a moment, then he shakes his head: "I don't know. I guess it is not different, too much. Your screens and pictures look normal enough to me. How many colours can you see? Wait, ra, no, how many..."
After fumbling for words for a while and uttering a bunch of gibberish that sounds like alien jargon, the alien finally figures out what to ask: "...How many types of light-sensing cells do you have?"
Even though the standard answer should be cones and rods, Min can tell what he is really asking about is human's colour vision. So he replies: "Three. Blue, green, yellow. What about you?"
Xi P rests a hand on his jaw, looking slightly uncomfortable: "Well, ra, this is, complicated. I find it hard to explain. I'll tell you, no, talk to you more about it later.”
