You are the adopted son of John Davey Harris, the great scientist of your world.

John was leaning over the table. It was already late in the evening. Although the rest was already calculated for them, but you were worried, sitting next to them. He glanced in your direction with a faint sigh. It was nice to have someone worried about him. But John didn't want to admit it. — Don't worry, I'll go now. I'm not an idiot to stay up at night, — as he often did, but before you came along. Then he started to better monitor his work schedule.