An Elegant Solution(87)

I said, “It means, Despite his illness, his distinguished mind kept its integrity until the last.”

“His mind? What’s that to anyone? The merchant, he’s proud to keep his money to the end, and the churchman his piety and the wife her family to the end. But the end comes and they all lose all. And tell him, I’ll need a new slab. The other one’s not big enough.”

“What will you do with the other one?”

“It’ll be for someone else who kept nothing to the end and doesn’t need the extra space.”

“There’ll be an Election soon to replace Master Huldrych,” I said.

“I’ve no part of that.”

“But you are part, Lithicus! You made the stones they use to cast lots.”

“I made them. And that was all I made.”

“I’ve only seen them from across a large room. What are the symbols on them?”

“Why are you asking that? What would it matter to you?” He got hold of his anger, but kept it ready in hand. “What would you do with it if I told you?”

“I only want to know. I was curious.”

“I won’t tell you.” He’d come calm, but was all suspicion. “There’s no good you’d do from knowing.”

“Then I wouldn’t want to know. I didn’t know they were secret.”

“They are or aren’t. I don’t speak of them.”

“Gustavus said it was twenty years ago. You wouldn’t need to have even remembered.”

“I remember.”

“And you’ll never need carve them again.”

I’d meant to be agreeable and calming to him, and he had been more at ease, but he suddenly was angry again.

“I’ll never carve them! That I’ll never do again!”

“Of course you wouldn’t.”

“What do you mean by that! What do you mean?” He was nearly yelling at me. “Who’d say they needed to be done more than once? Who said it?”

“No one!” I dropped back to the paving stones. His hammer was waving too wild to be close to him. “I don’t know why they would be.”

“Tell that man he’ll have his stone, and fast as it can be done. I’ll need a new slab. That will cost more”

“And he’ll pay you more,” I said. “He said he’d pay you one hundred florins!”

But his reaction was only worse and worse. “I don’t want any! Tell him I won’t take any payment! I’ll just be done with the stone and never any more!”

“No payment? But he’s willing to pay.”

“What do you mean at that? Willing? You don’t know how willing. No more. He’ll have it and nothing else. Thirty was enough for Judas, and he thinks I’ll take more?” In a quick motion, he put his hand against an arch stone above his head. “Don’t slip out, you!” It wasn’t me he was talking to, but the stone. “You’ve bothered me,” he said, and that was to me, “and now I’m addled! I’ll drop a stone and lose the day’s work.”

I couldn’t think of anything else to say, as everything I did say seemed to make him more angry and alarmed. There were even a few others in the Square who were turning to look. Gustavus had finished his shoeing and was standing with the horse and with Daniel at the stable tunnel. I backed away to them.

“What’s afflicting the stoneman?” Daniel asked.

“He’s just touchy,” I said.

“Touchy and with a chisel and hammer, that’s bad! What is it about?”

“I was asking him about the lot stones. They’ll be used in the Physics Election.”

“And soon, so I’ve heard. The University’s convening Wednesday.”

“For the Election?”

“In two days. The Chair’s to be filled.”

“The Chair’s only empty ten days,” I said.

“Brutus commands, the plebs obey. Tomorrow the committees will be chosen. It’s the first step. And Leonhard, I want you here at the Inn tonight. I want to show you this proof.”

“I’ll be there to see it.”



“Is it gossip or trouble you’re pursuing tonight?”

I was glad to answer as we finished supper. “Neither, Grandmother. It’s Mathematics.”

Then I was out in the last dusk light. My heart was full of both joy and caution. The prospect of Daniel and Nicolaus and good round dispute over a proof, whatever proof it was, was tonic. Even more, that it would be the Reciprocal Squares! But which proof? Mine, or another . . . that was worth caution. And though it was likely impossible, I wanted to be no cause of strife.

The stars were vast, but their infinite sum still was only a finite portion of the sky. They were vastly far away, and who would know their bright essence? I knew I was very small on the great planet, beneath the greater heavens, but it was within me to comprehend them and know how they were governed. What could it mean that God had put in finite man the chance to study the infinite?