The theme: The lattice forbids — page 2
Past two, the list does not stop
Conway's accounting says a wallpaper group costs exactly two dollars, and there are seventeen ways to spend it. Spend less and the answer is a finite group. Spend more and the list is infinite — but the cheapest thing past two costs two and one eighty-fourth, and nothing at all lies in between.
Thirteen ways to hold a lattice
The crystallographic restriction is about one matrix. A crystal has a whole group of them acting on one lattice at once, and asking how many such groups there are gives thirteen — not the ten of the plane point groups, and not the seventeen of the plane groups.
The most of an icosahedron a crystal can keep
C₆₀ sits in crystals and virus capsids sit in crystals, and neither of them stops being icosahedral. What a lattice can fix is a subgroup — and the largest crystallographic subgroup of the sixty rotations has order twelve, at index five. The five are Kepler's five cubes.
Six integers, and the lattice that holds them
A fivefold rotation is not an integer matrix in three dimensions and is one in six. The icosahedral group permutes its own six fivefold axes, so in coordinates along those axes every one of its sixty rotations is a signed permutation — and Z⁶ is a lattice it maps onto itself.
Why there is a list at all
Five lattices, seventeen groups, thirty-two classes, two hundred and thirty. Every one of those counts came out of a search that had to know when to stop, and the reason it could stop is a divisibility Minkowski proved in 1887.
Reduction modulo three
A finite group of integer matrices survives being reduced modulo three: no two of its operations collide. That single fact proves the classification finite without computing any bound — and modulo two it is false, refuted by the inversion centre.
Five solids from one inequality
Five families of rotation group in space, five regular solids, three regular tilings of the plane and an endless supply of hyperbolic ones — all of it is 1/p + 1/q compared with a half, read at its three signs.
The average that makes it finite
Two arguments every classification leans on are usually assumed rather than made: that a finite group of motions fixes a point, and that a finite group of integer matrices preserves a metric. They are the same trick — average over the group — and the trick fails exactly where it should.
Discrete, or dense, and nothing between
Every count in this collection rests on a hypothesis nobody states, because it is built into the word lattice: the translations of a pattern form a discrete subgroup of the plane. Drop it and the counts do not become larger — they stop existing, because the object stops being a lattice. A subgroup of the plane is one of five things, and only two of them are lattices.
Twelve pentagons, and no way round them
The crystallographic restriction forbids a five-fold face in a flat repeating net. Curve the net into a closed cage and the same three lines of arithmetic require exactly twelve of them — at any size, with the hexagon count free. What a lattice forbids, closing up compels.
The tiling that points every way
A Penrose tiling never repeats and its tiles still point in only ten directions, which is why its diffraction pattern has ten-fold symmetry. One triangle, cut into five copies of itself, breaks that — and the difference between it and a tiling with eight directions is which diagonal of one small rectangle gets drawn.
Eight-fold, with the golden ratio taken out
Every quasicrystal on this site has been built on five: Penrose's rhombs, the Fibonacci chain, the ten-fold pattern Shechtman measured. A method that works only on the golden ratio is a method tuned to its answer — so here is the same construction run on eight, where the irrational is √2 and nothing else changes.
Five copies, and the gap they leave
Gold, silver and silicon grow particles with a five-fold axis down the middle, out of a lattice that forbids one. Nothing is violated: five tetrahedral pieces of ordinary face-centred metal, each the mirror image of its neighbour, come to three hundred and fifty-two and a half degrees rather than three hundred and sixty — and the seven degrees left over have to go somewhere.
What a molecule gives up to sit in a crystal
A molecule brings its own symmetry. A crystal offers sites with symmetries of their own, and the two have to be compatible — the site's symmetry must be a subgroup of the molecule's. So a molecule may always keep more than its site offers, and a molecule with a five-fold axis may sit only where the crystal offers nothing at all.
The restriction, with no lattice assumed
The proof that only two-, three-, four- and six-fold rotations are possible is usually stated about a lattice, and every step of it turns out to need no lengths at all. A periodic graph has the same theorem, proved the same way — and a graph may have a five-fold symmetry the plane cannot receive.
The degrees that name the restriction
The reflection group with an n-fold rotation has invariants of degrees 2 and n — for every n, with no lattice anywhere in the argument. Which of those groups a crystal may have is then the only question left, and its answer is the crystallographic restriction arriving from a direction nobody points it from.
Every net folds onto a torus
Divide a plane net by its own translations and the quotient is a finite graph drawn on a doughnut. A doughnut has Euler characteristic zero, so the number of faces is not something to count — it is forced, and with it a relation between how many edges meet at a vertex and how many bound a face.
The four plane groups a molecule packs in
A molecule is not a disc: it has bumps and hollows, and packing it tightly means getting one molecule's bump into another's hollow. A mirror puts a bump against a bump. Filter the seventeen by that one observation and four survive — and the space groups the structural literature is mostly made of are the three-dimensional version of the same four.
How large a degeneracy may be
Symmetry can force two things to have the same value, and in a crystal it can force three. It can never force five, and the reason is a sum of squares — the same kind of arithmetic that forbids a five-fold axis, arriving at a question about levels rather than about rotations.
The circuit that does not close
A defect in a crystal is usually introduced as a picture — an extra half-row of atoms, a wedge taken out. What makes a defect a crystallographic object rather than a drawing is a closure failure: walk a closed circuit through the lattice and come back to the wrong point, by an amount the lattice itself decides.
Three answers in whole numbers
One over the face size plus one over the degree equals a half. Ask for whole numbers and there are exactly three answers, which are the three nets everybody has drawn since childhood — and the pairs on either side of them are a closed polyhedron and a plane the plane has no room for.
How many dislocations a lattice has
A circuit round a defect comes back to the wrong lattice point, and the amount by which it misses is a lattice vector. That much is quantised. The next question has a number for an answer: how many *different* dislocations are there? Two Burgers vectors related by an operation of the point group are one defect seen twice, so the answer is a count of orbits.
What one turn of the crystal reaches
Every reflection inside the limiting sphere is measurable by some orientation. A crystal on a spindle has one axis, and a region around it never reaches the Ewald sphere at all — however patiently the crystal is turned.
The dislocations a boundary allows
Two crystals meeting at a coincidence angle share one lattice and generate another. The second is where a boundary's own defects live, its shortest vector is one over the square root of the index, and a dislocation's energy is the square of that.