Biowar

60

Johnny Bib stared at the Escher print in Dr. Kegan’s kitchen, trying to work out the topographical solution to the visual puzzle. Two spheres seemed to exist within each other, but the mathematician knew this was just a metaphor for the formula that allowed a five-dimensional space to be conjured into a three-dimensional object.

Unless it was supposed to be a two-holed doughnut in four dimensions. In that case, it would be a clever reference to the Poincaré Conjecture.

Or was the artist simply depicting a doughnut and a sphere coexisting: a metaphor for the universe stated in its two essential shapes?

The secure sat phone rang as Johnny debated the point.

“Johnny Bibleria.”

“Yes, Johnny, I was hoping it would be you.”

Johnny sensed that Rubens was being satirical, but he wasn’t quite sure.

“Are you familiar with Escher?” Johnny asked him.

“Of course. Listen, Johnny, I need you to come back to Fort Meade and help out your team. We’ve been trying to link the man found there with UKD and we’re having a devil of a time. It was hard enough linking the Greek that met Charlie Dean with them, but this man. I need more information on the Dulugsko group—”

“Dlugsko,” said Johnny, correcting Rubens’ pronunciation. “It’s Polish.”

“Since you’re not coming up with anything further there,” said Rubens, “I’d like you to get back. I have a helicopter en route.”

“I was just examining this Escher print,” said Johnny. “I realize it’s a metaphor.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Poincaré.”

Poincaré was a famous mathematician who had posed a simple — or seemingly simple — question about spheres. No one had been able to prove that his guess about the answer was right. It remained one of math’s great problems — but Rubens couldn’t imagine what its relevance was here. “What the hell are you getting at?”

“Two essential shapes, sphere and doughnut. They don’t go into each other.”

“I don’t need a lesson on topology, for christsakes.”

“Unrelated. Is that the metaphor? Yet they coexist.”

Baffled, Rubens said nothing.

“Was the man meant to poison him? But then it couldn’t have been our Polish friend, since he wanted something,” said Johnny, gazing at the print.

“I’m going to send a helicopter, Johnny. I want you back here.”

“A helicopter? I don’t want to fly.”

“You must. There is no other option.”

Johnny Bib closed his eyes. There was no arguing with Rubens when he spoke in that sort of tone..

“Okay,” said Johnny Bib. “But…”

“But what?”

“Would anyone mind if I brought the Escher print?”

“Take the whole wall if you have to. Just get down here.”