Free All Cry Chaos by Leonard Rosen

flow. Tell me why, Inspector, an equation that describes the speed, volume, and flow of a river should also describe the flow of traffic during rush hour? One is a human system, one is natural. In one we have minds at work—humans controlling every vehicle—in the other only laws of gravity. And yet humans behave enough like water for traffic engineers to use fluid dynamics in designing highways. Why should the two be related—at all? It makes no sense, but they are."
        Poincaré could only shrug. "I've never considered these things."
        "Well, James and I did. We set out to show that human behavior can be modeled mathematically, just as any complex, dynamic system in nature can be modeled—a weather system, for instance. We intended to push the thesis and suggest that the same rules that describe complex systems in nature can also describe complex human behavior."
        "I doubt that," said Poincaré. "Maybe fluid dynamics describes traffic flow. What kind of mathematics describes love?"
        Quito shifted in his seat. "We never got that far."
        Ludovici snorted and, under his breath, said little wonder.
        Quito's eyes flashed.
        "He's offended you. Paolo, apologize."
        "Don't patronize me, Inspector. The idea was sound. We worked for several months before James lost interest and the collaboration ended. I had no idea he was scheduled to deliver a paper at the WTO conference, but I see from his title that he didn't lose his interest in mathematical modeling. So perhaps I had an effect on him after all. I'd like to think so."
         A mathematics of globalization . Poincaré did not think it likely. But then, from what he had gathered, Fenster was a special breed of brilliant. As was Quito. Who could guess what might come of their collaboration? "I imagine," he said, "that you came to Boston to study the behavior of markets, not love."
        "Of course," said his guest. "James was an intuitive with equations. He could watch a fly buzzing around a room, write an equation to describe its movement, graph that equation—and the graph, rendered in three dimensions, would reproduce the fly's movements. He had an astonishing, first-order mind—quite evident in his papers—so I sought him out. This was three and a half years ago."
        "A disappointment, I'm sure."
        Poincaré reached for the photograph of the bacteria growing in a Petri dish. Speaking to it, not to the president of the Indigenous Liberation Front, he asked whether in a single part of the economy one could find the whole. "Like the floret of cauliflower," he suggested. "I bought a cup of coffee this morning. In that exchange, could you see the entire global economy, Professor?"
        Quito quietly applauded. "That would be the holy grail. If you're asking whether or not the global economy can be described using fractal mathematics, I've never given it much thought."
         Absurd! P oincaré did not believe it for an instant and could tell that Quito knew —which apparently made no difference. Calm, as composed and affable as the moment he entered the ballroom, he pointed to the photos and said: "It's clear from these and from his paper's title that James was set to argue the global economy is related, at the deepest level, to the geometry of nature. He was pushing our thesis. He must have made progress since our split."
        Quito arranged the images into a neat pile. "I assume we're done, Inspector. I've told you everything I know. I'm sorry James died, though I'm glad we've met. I can't say I care much for your choice of venue, however. This place disturbs me. I really do need to leave."
        Poincaré had no plans for Quito to leave just yet. But rather than push the point, he tried coaxing his guest into further conversation. He had learned long ago to keep his subjects talking because talking was better than not talking and sometimes talking, even idle talking, led to a