How to genius the write way.

I was currently on my data pad, watching the holo-projection of our planet. Krypton glowed in vivid detail, its swirling atmosphere and jagged landmasses rendered in stunning clarity. It was beautiful, in a way that made my chest ache. Beautiful, and dying. 

The projection showed the planet's core, its once-vibrant energy now flickering erratically. I zoomed in, my fingers dancing across the interface as I pulled up data streams and simulations. The numbers didn't lie: Krypton's core was destabilizing faster than anyone wanted to admit. The Council dismissed it as a "manageable anomaly," but I knew better. I'd run the calculations a thousand times, and every simulation ended the same way—catastrophe. 

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. My brain was buzzing with ideas, solutions, and half-formed plans, but none of them felt like enough. How do you save a planet that doesn't want to be saved? How do you convince a society that's engineered for stagnation to change? 

I glanced at the time. My meeting with Dad was in an hour, and I still hadn't finished reviewing the latest gravity tech schematics. I swiped the holo-projection aside and pulled up the files, my mind already racing ahead. Gravity manipulation could be the key—not just to saving Krypton, but to ensuring our survival beyond it. If we could harness it properly, we might be able to stabilize the core or, failing that, evacuate the population. 

But first, I had to convince Dad—and the rest of the Science Guild—to take me seriously. Easier said than done when you're a seven-year-old, even if you're a seven-year-old with the mind of a supercomputer. At least I had a way to slow the core's destabilization until my gravity-based solution could be implemented. 

I closed the data pad and stood, stretching. The weight of what I was trying to do pressed down on me, but I pushed it aside. One step at a time. That's all I could do. 

After packing my staff, I sprinted out of my room and raced toward my father's office in the Science Guild. On the way, I glanced down over the balcony that stretched from the living quarters to the Temple of Rao. I saw them down there—those with individuality, selling on the streets, and children running and laughing. Those who didn't have the name of a great house attached to them. Sometimes, I envied them. 

I arrived at my father's office and lab in five minutes. He was currently talking with Uncle Jor, which saved me a lot of time since I wouldn't have to invite him later. They were looking at what appeared to be a ship. I wondered if Dad knew that Uncle Jor was designing it as an escape vessel for our impending doom. 

"You need to find a way to connect two distant positions in space-time," I said, stepping into the room without preamble. "You need to create a passage between the two points, travel safely between them, and then do it all again. I think if you shrink the ship—or whatever is in it—to a size smaller than a Planck length but larger than the diameter of an average subatomic particle, you can use quantum mechanics to your advantage. Quantum entanglement and quantum tunneling could allow you to travel safely between the two points. Of course, you'll have to use the Phantom Zone projector for reference, scouting, testing, and as a safety measure." 

The room fell silent after I finished my explanation. In the years I'd been on Krypton, I'd spent the majority of my days learning everything I could. If you have access to advanced science that's basically magic, you don't let that opportunity slip away. Even during my training with Aunt Astra over the past two years, I'd been revising and secretly correcting Kryptonian sciences. 

Uncle Jor eventually broke the silence, his eyes still fixed on the schematic. "That's a great idea, Kara, but you should know to knock before entering your father's office. How did you even get past the…? You know what, never mind." 

"Come on, Uncle, I'm your favorite niece. You could give me some sugar," I said, jumping into his arms to give him a hug. 

I heard him mutter, "What does that even mean?" But he was already picking me up and hugging me back. I let go, and so did he. I gave him a pout and said, "And don't act like you weren't impressed by my genius." 

I heard a groan from my father as he said, "At least she's humble." 

We continued with small talk as Uncle Jor asked me about my studies and my training. Let me tell you, if you think small talk is unbearable now, wait until you can predict what the person is going to say. It's the less fun version of nails on a chalkboard. 

After I couldn't take it anymore, I blurted out, "I know how to slow it down!" 

I was met with confused "What?" from both my uncle and father. 

"I know how to slow it down. I can delay it for a few years until the ships are ready and we can evacuate—or until my other idea pans out." 

My uncle had a frightened look on his face as he searched my eyes before looking around the room and eventually at my father, who was staring at me with the same horror. 

"Oh, Kara," Uncle Jor said, his voice heavy with resignation. "You are too smart for your own good. But Rao knows we need a child to save us all." 

"I don't even want to know how you found out such a secret," my father added, his tone a mix of awe and helplessness.