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“You are not calling your father.”

“I need independent verification.”

“You call him and we will have forty mathematicians, six physicists and a film crew here before dinner.”

“He won't call a film crew.”

“Last month he hired a photographer because Pierre built a circuit.”

“It was his first optical processor.”

“He wore pajamas.”

“They were good photographs.”

“No.”

Pierre swivels toward us.

“Can I send it to Grand-père?”

Both of us look at him.

I sigh.

Xavier takes his phone back.

Traitor.

“Send it.”

Pierre smiles.

Three minutes later, Xavier's phone rings.

We look at each other.

“That was fast,” I say.

“It's my father.”

“Same thing.”

Xavier answers.

Senior doesn't bother with hello.

“Put Pierre on.”

“No.”

“What did he do?”

“I haven't verified it.”

“He solved it.”

“You don't know that.”