“Sill told me he’s a villain.”

“Oh, that. That’s just a game he plays. He’s really a very nice guy. If you don’t believe me, ask your Rottweiler out there.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

“You should know I wouldn’t mind killing you, also.”

“Noted.”

He stared at me for a beat. “You don’t rattle, do you?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

He nodded.

“Professor, think of it this way. This country has never given anything to us and it never will. We have given everything to it. I think it’s time we gave nothing back. What do you think?”

“I’m a mathematician.”

“That’s what I’m counting on. Get it?” With that rather lame pun that I didn’t actually get, as he put it, he left.

Biblical proportions and the fifth postulate

1

If space is curved, no matter how slightly, does it curve in one direction or in many, considering gravitational pulls from this source and that and this again and can it curve through so much space that it finally comes back on itself? Blah, blah, blah. Light bends and gets sucked into a black hole. Does it cease to be light? Does it fill up an ocean of light? Blah, blah, yak. For all the stars we can’t count and for all the life that we argue must exist (because how can we be alone?), perhaps parallel to us, perhaps not, there is still nothing out there and that’s the truth that lets us sleep at night.

I heard helicopters. Men in black armor appeared in the pasture outside my window, armed with futuristic-looking rifles, walking, trotting, running. Things were ramping up. I sat and watched for more than an hour. They were like ants but seemed to have no purpose. They carried nothing but their guns and all they did was run back and forth. There were either a few or many. How could I know as they were masked and hooded?

I reviewed all of my plans and they were perfect. I was trying to find some comfort in even a vacuous truth. I had no plans. So, conversely, I reviewed all of my plans and they were bad. Also vacuously true. All of my weapons were loaded. All of my allies were ready. None of my proofs of the fifth postulate were invalid. Truth after truth, albeit vacuous. And they did me no good. I needed to get past Gloria. I decided to try talking to her.

I opened the door. “Gloria, would you step in here?”

She did.

“Have a seat.”

She did.

“Will you help me?” I asked.

“Help you what?”

“Will you help me get my friend out of here? Eigen.”

“Why do you want to get her out of here? Are you in love with her?”

“No. She’s my friend.”

“Can you not love a friend? Would you like to have sex? I’m very good at it.”

“I’m afraid I’m not,” I said.

“It’s a very simple procedure,” she said.