The Servant-39
When Charlize walked into her office the following day, she was surprised to see her director sitting in her chair talking to Richard Greene and his assistant. Coetzee, rapidly uncrossed his legs and stood up.
– “Ah, Charlize, good morning.”
Charlize put down her laptop case on a table by the door. “Good morning, Pieter. Prof. Greene, Mr. Hoskins.”
– “Good morning, Charlize.” Greene said, “I’m sorry to hear about your lost.”
Charlize looked at the men. “Thank you.”
Coetzee had rounded her desk and was now standing by her side.
– “Charlize,” said Coetzee beaming, “I have great news for you and the Institute.”
Charlize willed a smile and looked at her director wearily.
– “Prof. Greene had decided to stay in Johannesburg and enlisted our help to prove the special case of the Malena-Ritten conjecture. The whole world would know that South African physicists have played a role, a small one maybe, but nevertheless a role in the progress of the search for the final theory. What do you say? Isn’t that marvelous for us?”
Charlize struggled to find an answer. “Uh, well, that is certainly a great news for our Institute and I’m very happy for our colleagues physicists who would be participating in Prof. Greene’s—”
Greene shook his head, “Charlize, you’re too modest. In fact, I am here to ask Dr. Coetzee for your help.”
Charlize was completely taken aback. “My help?”
Coetzee could barely hold back his enthusiasm. “Isn’t that wonderful, Charlize? You would be representing our Institute.”
– “But Pieter, I am not qualified. The mathematics involved are far beyond my abilities—”
– “Miss de Vries,” said Hoskins, “you were the one who pointed to us, rightly, the error that none of the thousand of string theorists from around the world had seen. I would say that there’s no better candidate than yourself for the task.”
Charlize turned to a smiling Greene, “With all due respect, Prof. Greene, I have never done any work on string theory and you are the one with the Fields Medal and Abel Prize. What kind of contributions do you expect from me?”
Coetzee was no longer smiling. Greene and Hoskins glanced at each other. Charlize knew that no one would believe the truth. She could not possibly tell the greatest living mathematician that her domestic was the one who had found an error in his works.
There were an uncomfortable long silence inside the room before Hoskins, his eyes still lowered towards the floor, said, “Then… maybe… perhaps, you know of someone who can help us? Maybe?”
Charlize thought right away of Amina.
– “Uh maybe, but I have to ask her first.”
– “Her?” said Hoskins, tilting his head up.
Charlize nodded.
– “Someone here from the Institute?” Coetzee asked.
– “No, Pieter. A personal friend.”
– “May we have her name?”
Hoskins’ question sounded just a tad too interested for Charlize’s taste.
– “I’d rather ask her first if you don’t mind. She has not done any works in mathematics in a long time.”
Greene walked to Charlize and took her hand, “Charlize, please let me know as soon as you have your friend’s answer. I’m sure I will find the solution but hey, what do you know, we might find it sooner with your friend's help.”
Coetzee led Greene and his assistant out of the room but not before letting her know with his look how disappointed he was of her.
– “So, what do you think of her reaction?” Greene asked Hoskins once they were back inside their SUV.
– “I think it’s genuine. I don’t think she found the error by herself.”
– “The friend, then.”
– “Apparently.”
– “And why does she have to be so mysterious about her name? Wouldn’t any mathematicians jump at the first opportunities to work with me?”
– “That’s what bothers me too.”
Hoskins’ blueberry phone went off. Greene watched his assistant took the call then folded it back with a dejected look.
– “Who was it?” Greene asked.
– “It was London. Sterling is working with Najad Bose.”
– “Shit!” Greene hit the dashboard with his palm in frustration.
Najad Bose was an Indian mathematician and autodidact with no formal training. While struggling to survive from day to day in the slum of Bombay, he sent his notebook—with stamps bought from money earned by selling his blood—containing his results to Greene imploring him to take a look at his works and to have the kindness to write back any critics, comments or suggestions as a letter of encouragement from a man of Greene’s stature would help him get a decent job as a mathematician. Greene wrote back, “Please do not bother me anymore. I’m sending you back your notebook in case you are out of toilet paper. Sincerely, Richard Greene.”
Bose went into depression shortly after. It was a friend of his who took upon himself to send Bose’s notebooks to Nigel Sterling who took the time to look at them. Later, after he had facilitated Bose’s trip to England and secured for him an academic post, Sterling declared to the world that Bose’s theorems must be true, because, if they were not true, no one would have the imagination to invent them. Najad Bose’s talent was later recognized to be in the same league as legendary mathematicians such as Euler, Gauss, Newton and Archimedes.
– “Damn!” Greene was out of himself.
– “I think it’s time to go pro-active.” Hoskins said.
– “What do you recommend?”
– “Have a talk with Wilhelm Katz, for a start.”