Chapter 30:

Charlie had finally slowed down a bit when they arrived at Fine Hall. Amita gave him a concerned glance. "You okay, Charlie?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a little out of steam from the walk. Remember, I am recuperating from a weapon of mass destruction."

Amita put her arm around Charlie's waist and gave him a squeeze. "And we're very glad you are. Recovering, that is. Are you ready to face your public?"

Charlie smiled as they walked through the front door. "Yes, I am. I'm even looking forward to seeing Marshall Penfield again."

Amita gave Charlie a mock look of shock, and pressed her palm to his forehead. "Hmm. No fever."

The lobby was full of mathematicians milling about and discussing all manner of esoteric things. Charlie returned a few greetings as he made his way to the auditorium. "Charlie," Amita whispered. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine. Just a little tired, and nervous as all get out."

"Nervous?" Larry was incredulous. "You know your subject as well as you know your own back yard. Probably better. Why should you be nervous?"

"No reason, really. In fact it's kind of silly. It's just that the last time I gave this talk – or started to give this talk – well, it didn't go all that well. So I'm a little nervous. Let's go inside and sit."

Charlie led the way to the front row, on the opposite side from where they'd been sitting on Monday. He sat and turned his laptop on. While he waited for it to boot up he fidgeted nervously. As he reached up to straighten his tie once again, Amita took his hand, pulled it away from his tie and squeezed it. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Stop. You look great." He turned and found that his face was disconcertingly close to hers. He blushed and looked down at their hands. Amita pushed a curl out of his eyes. "You look great and you'll do just fine."

He took her hand in his, brought it to his lips and kissed her fingertips. "Thank you," he murmured.

Larry nudged him. "Charles, pay attention. You're about to be introduced."

Charlie released Amita's hands, turning his attention to the podium. Marshall Penfield approached the podium, smiling at Charlie. "Good morning," he said. "It's a great pleasure to introduce a man who has been a colleague, competitor, and, dare I say, friend. I know we've had our difficulties, but when he was taken ill on Monday, I found myself reevaluating our relationship. This is not to say that we're going to be best buddies from here on, but I promise not to laugh out loud or heckle our next speaker. Please welcome Dr. Charles Eppes." He held out his hand toward Charlie, "Eppsie?"

Charlie stood, grinning as the audience burst into applause. When he reached the podium and turned to face the audience, he was stunned to see they were on their feet. He laughed and said, "Sit! Sit! I haven't even started yet." They sat, but kept applauding. "Shhh.. Please, hush. You're embarrassing me," he said, his face bright red. When the audience finally quieted down, Charlie said, "Thank you all. I want to thank our hosts for allowing me to try again." He looked at Marshall, "and this time I promise not to make a mistake in the Taylor series."

He put his computer on the podium and began, "Convergence improvement actually refers to acceleration, whereby you reach reach a degree of accuracy within a series with fewer terms. Any number of series can be applied to this method. For example, take a Taylor series. You expand the Taylor series about infinity and interchange the summation. One of the limitations of this method is that the sum must be known in this application." Charlie wrote the illustration of the Taylor series in the convergence on the whiteboard. "Now, the Taylor series can be further accelerated by the application of the Euler transform. This is a technique I use when attempting to put together information on, say, a serial killer. I don't know who the killer is, but I know who the victims are..."

Watching Charlie writing and talking at the same time, Amita turned to Larry and smiled. "He's doing great, isn't he?" she whispered.

"Yes, he is. It's wonderful to see him back at it."

By the time he finished his talk, Charlie was looking a little worn, but he was clearly in his element. After taking a few questions, he said, "I'm afraid I'm still not a hundred percent, so I'm going to have to cut this short. Thank you." He closed his computer and left the stage to a loud round of applause.

He slid into his seat between Larry and Amita and sighed. "I think that went pretty well," he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

"Charlie, are you okay?" Amita touched his cheek. "You don't feel warm."

"I'm fine. Just tired. I was too excited to sleep last night, and I think I'm paying the price now."

They sat and listened to the rest of the morning talks and then followed the group to lunch. They had settled into their seats when Marshall Penfield joined them. "Eppsie, you did an excellent job this morning."

"But?" Charlie asked with a grin. "There is a but, isn't there?"

"Nope. No but. It was an excellent presentation. I enjoyed the way you brought in your work for the FBI. You know, when I visited Cal Sci a couple of years back, I was surprised to see you had given up on your own research to do the FBI work..."

"I haven't given up..."

"I know that now. Listen, Charlie, when you got me involved in that home invasion case, I finally saw what you get out of it. It is incredibly satisfying. I mean what we do with all of our theory is good, but there's nothing like making a real difference..."

"I'm afraid I disagree, " Larry said as Charlie rolled his eyes. "We could be unlocking the secrets of the universe. And if all of our young brilliant minds forsake the theoretical in the interest of pursuing forensics, I despair..."

"Larry," Charlie said, "we are not forsaking the theoretical. Or have you forgotten my cognitive emergence work?"

"No, Charles. I haven't forgotten. I just fear that you will find the lure of the here and now to outweigh the quieter call of the more esoteric pursuits."

"Larry, I would never..."

"But you have, and you will continue to do so. I only hope I can act as your Jiminy Cricket."

"My what?"

"Your conscience, Charles. Jiminy Cricket sat on Pinocchio's shoulder and warned him when he was getting in trouble."

"So, let me get this right, Larry. You have set your life's mission based on a sixty year old cartoon?"

"Sixty six," Larry said.

"Well," Amita said, "it is a classic."

Marshall laughed, "Well, I can see this conversation is going where no man has gone before. I'd better mingle with the other guests." He stood and grinned at Charlie, "I'm glad you're feeling better, and I did thoroughly enjoy your presentation. No buts. See you all later."