"His arm has 512 gigabytes of encrypted storage. He only uses 2% of it for the arm's functions. The rest is… questionable media."
At that moment, Howard bursts through the door, Bernadette behind him, holding a sparking, limp metal arm.
"To not storing science on robot limbs," Howard adds.
Sheldon, Leonard, Howard, and Raj huddle around the chip, tweezers and wires in hand. Amy watches from the couch, muttering physics equations like a prayer. Bernadette holds a fire extinguisher. Penny has a glass of wine—for "moral support." The Big Bang Theory 11-- Temporada Legendas PTBR.
They discover that the university’s new "smart climate control," installed by a low-bid contractor, accidentally sent a garbage data packet that hit the physics server at the exact moment Sheldon’s automatic backup ran. The result: every copy of the paper—except one—is now a text file of random temperature readings.
It’s 6:47 AM on a Tuesday in Pasadena. Sheldon Cooper, dressed in his usual Flash T-shirt and plaid vest, sits at the dining table in Apartment 4A, sipping his precise ratio of green tea to honey. Amy Farrah Fowler, now living with him (a fact he still quantifies as "a 7.3 on the life-change index"), reviews their joint paper on super-asymmetry for the 14th time.
"That leaves the copy in Howard's arm," Amy says. "His arm has 512 gigabytes of encrypted storage
"Leonard, your circadian rhythm is irrelevant. Our life's work is saved on my laptop, the university server, three external hard drives, and—" Sheldon pauses, "—Howard's robotic arm's onboard memory."
"Three days," Howard says. "But the Nobel nomination cutoff is tomorrow at 5 PM."
Raj buries his face in his hands.
They submit the paper with two hours to spare.
"To Penny," Leonard says.
The group rushes to Caltech. Raj, sitting in his office with his new AI companion "Juno" (a romantic chatbot he programmed after his last breakup), offers help. "To not storing science on robot limbs," Howard adds