Chapter 180
Translator: Dreamscribe
Silence hung over the dean's office.
The man sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed was Murphy, the NSA Director. He made no effort to hide his discomfort. Whitman, pretending not to notice his mood, lifted his cup and savored the aroma of the tea.
Clink.
"Do try some. I went to the trouble of serving you a fine tea."
"No, thank you. I prefer coffee."
A frosty atmosphere.
David, the NSA Senior Researcher, squeezed his eyes shut.
He had been ordered to attend as a cryptography expert and an MIT graduate, but he had never imagined things would go this badly.
His patience exhausted, the Director brought both hands together at his chin and spoke.
"Dean. I've always believed the NSA and MIT have maintained an excellent relationship over the years. A great many of our research personnel are graduates of this school. And quite a few of the projects our agency has commissioned were taken on right here.
Which makes me think I must have been mistaken. I was laboring under the delusion that something like trust existed between us, wasn't I?"
Dean Whitman nodded.
"I think exactly as you do, Director. After all, graduates of our school have had a hand in every one of the NSA's major projects."
"Then would you care to explain it to me in plain terms? Why on earth have I still not been able to meet with the student?"
Thirty minutes he had been waiting in the dean's office.
He didn't wait this long even when meeting the President. It felt as though his entire agency had been brushed aside, and it left him in a foul mood.
"Well, that would be because you came without an appointment. Team Apex apparently has a rule. 'When the Do Not Disturb sign is hanging on the door, no one touches Seo-ha'."
"Even when the NSA Director comes calling?"
"Regrettably, yes."
Murphy's eyes settled into a cold stare.
Yu Seo-ha was 'Priority Tier 1', a subject of the highest management priority. Not an American citizen, but a top-tier national security asset to be protected by any means necessary. And at the same time, a key surveillance target. Murphy had never met Seo-ha in person, but he felt he was beginning to understand why.
"What sort of student is Yu Seo-ha?"
A rare day with nothing on his schedule.
The Director decided to set himself at ease. And there was a touch of simple curiosity to it, too.
"I take it you're asking whether he's the easy-to-handle sort.
The answer would be both yes and no. I do read the papers, you know. You seem to be here about the Post-Quantum Cryptography matter, and if you keep just one thing in mind, I think things will go the way you want."
"And what would that be?"
"You and the NSA must always put the national interest first. So steer things in such a way that Seo-ha's interest becomes America's interest."
The Director let out a hearty laugh.
"Hahaha! And here I thought you were about to say something serious. Isn't that just common sense? Win-win is our agency's very motto."
Whitman shook his head.
Just as he was about to explain that one had to first know what the boy's interest actually was, there came a knock.
Knock knock!
The three men's eyes turned toward the door at once.
"Come in."
Murphy's eyes scanned the figure who entered.
A boy in jeans and a hoodie. A few sheets of paper in his hand. Bloodshot eyes, hair carelessly pushed back. It was plain at a glance that he'd been in the lab until just moments ago. His gaze flicked toward Murphy and David, then drifted past them with indifference.
"I heard you wanted to see me."
"Come in, come in. The NSA insisted they absolutely had to meet you, so here they are."
Whitman gestured to the side with his eyes.
"This is the Director. You can call him Murphy."
"I'm David, a researcher. A pleasure! I'm also from the MIT math department, and getting to meet the man who proved the Riemann Hypothesis..."
"David!"
The senior researcher lowered his hand with a sheepish look.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Yu Seo-ha."
After a bit of commotion, Seo-ha took a seat.
He observed Seo-ha closely. An occupational habit he couldn't help.
'Hm?'
The way he sat was unusual.
He wasn't leaning back; he sat perched on the very edge of the sofa, as if barely resting his weight there. From his face, it wasn't that he was nervous, either. In that awkward posture, he had set the papers in his hand on his knees and was looking at Murphy as if to say they should get to the point if they had business with him. Surely not...
'Is he finding this a hassle? Does he just want to get out of here?'
It was a fresh experience.
When people came face to face with the NSA Director, their reactions fell broadly into two types. They either stiffened under the pressure or grew excessively pliable. In that their demeanor changed at all, there was little difference between the two.
But the boy's eyes were as indifferent as a man waiting on a burger he'd ordered at McDonald's. Murphy swallowed a wry chuckle in spite of himself. To think the boy could wear such a bored expression while seated before the man at the very pinnacle of national security.
He decided to toss out a little bait.
"I've heard a great deal about you. This is the first time I'm seeing you in the flesh, Seo-ha.
Thanks to the paper you published, our cryptography experts haven't been able to go home lately. After all, it was research that, for all practical purposes, rendered RSA useless."
How would he react?
Humility?
Pride?
Or would he ham it up and rattle off some exaggerated apology?
The answer was neither. He merely furrowed his brow, as if it were all a headache. After thinking for a moment, he opened his mouth.
"The fact that there's a flaw in RSA's Prime Factorization algorithm has been steadily predicted for twenty years now. If the system had been perfect, no one would have been preparing Post-Quantum Cryptography as an alternative."
'Dodging the blame?'
A clear will radiated from him, one that pleaded not to be dragged into anything tiresome.
When the dean had given him the hint, he'd been only half convinced. But only now did he feel he understood what it had meant. The boy had little interest in honor or recognition, and probably none in power either.
Then what about success?
A spirit of challenge welled up in him. He admitted it. This was a base sort of desire. Something akin to wanting to be the first to tread upon pure-white, snow-covered ground in the early morning.
He deftly changed the subject.
"You're quite right. That's why we, too, are rushing the transition. The thing is, a variable has come up. The senior researcher here tells me that the new Post-Quantum Cryptography has to be built by someone who can perfectly understand and apply the theory you established."
Seo-ha nodded.
"That's probably true."
A faint smile spread across Murphy's lips.
"And it occurred to me, wouldn't it be best for you, the creator of the theory, to do it yourself? Not for nothing, of course. I'd like to make you an extraordinary offer."
Rustle.
At his signal, David handed Seo-ha the envelope he had prepared. Seo-ha drew out the documents and began to read.
'He'll be surprised.'
An offer two full notches above the one Palantir had received.
The moment he founded a company and completed the cipher, countless public institutions would become his clients. Not only initial capital support, but high-end equipment and personnel that couldn't easily be obtained otherwise could be procured for him in any quantity. If everything went to plan, within a few years he could become the owner of a decacorn.
'Go on, accept it.'
But this was merely the backup plan. The real, main cipher was being built at NIST. For the U.S. government, it was nothing more than a low-risk insurance policy and investment.
Slide.
He turned to the last page of the documents.
Director Murphy was curious. Could the boy really ignore the scent of immense wealth written across those papers? It was an offer that would tempt even the Buddha or Gandhi.
But the words that came out of Seo-ha's mouth fell completely outside his expectations. Frowning, Seo-ha spoke.
"So... you're saying I'd have to run a company myself?"
"Huh?"
Murphy let out a dumb little sound, unlike himself.
'That's what he's most curious about right now?'
He wore the expression of someone being handed a penalty. Grimacing, he pushed the envelope of documents across the table. Then, putting on a deliberately solemn face, he looked at Murphy and spoke.
"Director. I'm sorry, but since I'm still a minor, I can't accept this offer. What company would want to sign a contract with a CEO who holds the Power of Disaffirmance (* a contract entered into while a minor can be legally voided)?"
He wanted to refuse so badly that he'd even dredge up a plausible reason to do it? A wry laugh slipped out.
"It was an honor to meet you. I have something urgent to take care of, so I'll be going on ahead."
His face looked anything but honored.
Like a waiter dodging a difficult customer, he rose smoothly and slipped out the door. Murphy was so flustered it didn't even occur to him to stop the boy.
A heavy air settled over the dean's office.
His gaze, which had been blankly fixed on the closed door, drifted to the envelope on the table. A dream ticket that anyone with the talent would have longed for. But right now it was nothing more than a useless wad of paper.
"Pfft, hahahaha!"
The dean's booming laughter shattered the silence.
He laughed so hard his shoulders heaved, enough to rattle the teacup in his hand. The Director narrowed his eyes at him, but Whitman couldn't seem to stop laughing.
"Dean, is this something to laugh about?"
"Forgive me. I keep picturing his face... Pfft! It was quite a sight. That's the very expression I'd see on students when I assigned far too much homework."
Barely managing to hold back his laughter, he set the teacup down.
"Didn't I tell you? Steer things toward what's in Seo-ha's interest. Owner of a decacorn? To that boy, it's nothing but a punishment and a prison that robs him of his research time. The power to void a minor's contract... Pfft! It seems he hurriedly looked it up on his smartphone on his way over here."
The Director gathered the documents from the table and put them in his bag.
"I'll be taking my leave now."
"I'll take that to mean you've given up."
"No. It means I'll come back with a new strategy."
For the first time in ages, he had taken an interest in another human being.
At the same time, a sense of crisis stirred in him. A once-in-a-century genius who couldn't be won over with money or power. Someday, without fail, he would become a threat to America. Murphy resolved that, no matter what it took, he would bring the boy into the fold.
On his way out, David looked at him and bowed his head.
"Director, I'm sorry. I drew up a poor strategy..."
"No! Who could have predicted he'd turn this down? Rewrite the Yu Seo-ha report from scratch. Find the one condition he absolutely cannot refuse. Dig through every record, from his birth right up to the present."
The black sedan slid out of the campus.
* * *
After that, many more figures came seeking Seo-ha.
Capitalists from Silicon Valley, some hundred-and-somethingth prince of Saudi Arabia, a Chinese diplomat with a renowned professor in tow. But every one of them had to leave within a matter of minutes.
The biggest problem was that Seo-ha had little interest in cryptography. Even without him, Post-Quantum Cryptography would inevitably be made someday. Seo-ha had no desire to pour his time and effort into it.
And then, at last, today, Minister Lee Hyun-seok came to MIT in person.
Once again, a meeting arranged in the dean's office. Since the approach had come through the embassy, there was no avoiding it. With a listless expression, Seo-ha read the proposal he was handed.
The establishment of an independent research institute, a national-level budget and research environment, the option to hold joint posts at MIT and a Korean institute, autonomy in hiring researchers, and a share of the Post-Quantum Cryptography patents.
Without exaggeration, it was an extraordinary offer the likes of which no researcher in Korea had ever received.
Tremendous benefits on par with the Institute for Basic Science (IBS). This was an outcome the Minister had won by pressing hard, having taken Ji-yoon's advice to heart.
Flip.
"Huh?"
Seo-ha's eyes widened.
'A revision of the law to add the Fields Prize to the list of Military Service Special Exemptions.'
A matter that, with no recipients until now, had never even come up for discussion.
It made no sense that the exemption granted to those who placed third or better at the Olympics, first at the Asian Games, or second or higher at international music competitions was not granted to Fields Prize winners.
'Heh heh heh. Well? How about our offer...'
An offer made with every ounce of dedication and sincerity. Even Ji-yoon had nodded, conceding that at this level it was worth a shot.
Seeing the boy's apparently startled face, the Minister wore a satisfied smile. But the point that had startled Seo-ha was something else entirely.
"I'm actually planning to enlist for Active Duty Service, though?"
"What did you say?"
One look at Seo-ha's face showed he meant it.
The Minister felt his head go numb. Forgetting his own station entirely, he ended up letting out a shrill shriek.
"Say something that makes sense! Why on earth would you go there?!"
*****
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