"Oh, right!" Billy had gone off so far in his own head that he hadn't noticed the squares at first. "I'm sorry. Scrap that, I'm sure it must be something else. "If four threes are sixteen, four fives are...what?"

He doesn't dare to walk, but he instead sits on the squares, tapping his palm and occasionally looking out at the adjacent squares.

"Or is it algebraic? If everything's supposed to be multiplied by the factor..."

((Guess who remains commpletely lost.))