“I thought I might find you here.” It was Sill. He sat on the davenport with me. “Those are mostly black oaks and sourwood. I think trees are like people.”

“How is that?”

“Each one is unique. No oak is exactly like any other oak. They stand in plain view, but what feeds them is hidden from view. And even though they can be old and sturdy, a stiff wind can upset them, rip them from the world they know. That can happen to us, can’t it? Somehow we endure it better. Do you know much about plants?”

“Some.”

“What about angiosperms?” he asked.

“Angiospermae are seed-producing land plants, sixty-four orders, four hundred and sixteen families, thirteen thousand genera, and three hundred thousand species.”

Sill chuckled.

“What is it?”

“This is why I need you around. You amuse me.”

“I’m glad you find me amusing. Where is Eigen?” I asked.

“She’s fine. She’s very much like you. All nerdy and Aspergery and awkward and brilliant.”

“How do you plan to get into the bullion depository?”

“Details, details. You needn’t worry your pretty little head over the details. Just sweat the big stuff. I need you to concern yourself with nothing and nothing else.”

“What’s all the villain stuff about anyway?” I asked.

“You won’t believe this, but no one has ever asked me that question.”

“You’re a billionaire. You don’t need money. You can go where you want, do what you want.”

“I just want to get even,” he said.

“Even? With whom?”

“America, Wala. America.”

“This is about race?”

“No, this is about exacting payment, or, should I say, repayment.”

“For what?”

“This is a rather boring conversation. Don’t you have something cool to say about infinity or zero or imaginary numbers? Tell me something that makes no sense. That’s why I hired you.”

We sat there for a minute.

“I’m waiting,” he said.

“I don’t understand why language allows me to actually say something sensical that is not true.”

Sill sighed. “I was hoping for something better than that. Try again. Please.”

“Even though we know that pi and e are transcendental, we don’t know whether the sum of pi and e is transcendental or algebraic.”

“See, that’s more like it.” Sill leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “What should we do now? Badminton?”

I said nothing.

“I was just joking. I hate badminton. I hate all racquet sports.” He stood. “Let’s go see Eigen.”

I stood up.

“You’ve changed, Wala.”

“How so?” I asked.

“I don’t know. You’re just different. Maybe you’re taller.”

“I’m not taller.”

“Then maybe I’m shorter.” He looked at me. “Perhaps it’s the case that the whole world is smaller.”

“Then I would be taller.”

“That’s right, isn’t it?”

He led us through the house and out the opposite side. We marched toward a couple of rust-colored buildings set on a knoll. The structures turned out to be stables, clean, manicured. Eigen was standing just inside one of them, rubbing the nose of a beautiful gray horse.