“The Riemann Hypothesis really was an absurdly dreadful problem.”
During the regular meeting,
Sri nodded at Sujeong’s words.
“I really thought we’d caught it by the tail, but every lead turned out to be a trap leading to a dead end. Its reputation as a mathematician grinder wasn’t for nothing.”
“Still, I think it was meaningful enough. We reviewed almost every existing theory. That’s something that shouldn’t really be possible. It was only possible because it was Seha.”
Theo said, drawing an X beside the hypothesis written on the blackboard. Cecilia felt the same way.
“We basically conducted a complete survey of data accumulated over the past two centuries in just a few months. If I’d heard it from the outside, even I wouldn’t have believed it.”
Even for Seha, no one had expected him to solve a Millennium Problem in a matter of months. Still, he had at least wanted to give his team a clear direction.
“We’re back to square one. I don’t know why, but Riemann’s hypothesis slips past human intuition. Like quantum particles whose state changes the moment they’re observed.”
The Riemann Hypothesis was unquestionably true.
After receiving approval to use The Core, Apex Lab had computed the zeros on the complex plane to the limit. As a result, they discovered zeros in numbers exceeding the trillions, but every last one of them lay within the range Riemann had predicted.
“But there was progress too. The zeros of the Riemann Hypothesis are clearly following the laws of the energy levels, the Eigenvalues, of some specific system.
And that is connected to the physical law that a Hermitian Operator in quantum mechanics always has real eigenvalues.”
Scratch, scratch.
One more failed case was added to Seha’s notebook.
“That means someday, without fail, the day will come when this mathematical conundrum is proven as a physical reality.”
Theo looked at him with interest. Until not long ago, Seha had clearly looked exhausted, but today his face was bright and full of life.
“It may take a few years if we’re fast, or it may take far longer than that. Perhaps, like other mathematicians, we may not see the end of this colossal problem in our lifetimes.”
Seha closed his notebook and lifted his head.
He met the eyes of each team member seated around the table in turn. Then, sounding a little embarrassed, but more sincere than ever, he said,
“So what I mean is...
Even if I lose my way and fall into some ridiculous trap, please stay by my side so I can return to the starting point and begin again. I hope you’ll continue to lend me your strength in solving this dreadfully mysterious problem.”
“......”
“......”
Silence flowed.
Seha looked at his team members with a tense expression. He could only hope his sincerity had reached them.
“Pfft!”
Theo couldn’t hold back and covered his mouth with his hand. Then, as if he couldn’t help it, he leaned back against his chair and burst into laughter.
“Hahaha! What was that!”
“Why are you saying something so obvious?”
“It was a little cute.”
The corners of Sujeong’s mouth rose in a gentle arc.
‘So Seha wasn’t superhuman either.’
To her, Seha had seemed like someone who possessed the answers to every difficult problem in the world. But Sujeong had seen it.
During that brief moment when he waited for his team members’ answer, Seha’s fingers had been trembling faintly. That awakened a memory in her that she had forgotten.
He was still the same simple-hearted boy from Okcheon. Kinder and purer than anyone, yet stubborn at times. And he, too, was a single human being who felt loneliness and fear before this vast abyss.
‘I’m glad.’
Sujeong looked at Seha, then turned her gaze away.
‘That I’m a mathematician who can be of help to him.’
At the response, which was different from what he had expected, Seha’s face turned red.
There were differences in degree, but every one of them was a person who had staked their life on mathematics. They were not talents who would break easily, even before the monster of the century known as the Riemann Hypothesis.
Seha reflected on how shallow his thinking had been.
“Hm.”
Cecilia was watching them with interest.
After spending several months together, she felt she could grasp the tendencies of the team and each individual as clearly as if they were in her hand. Why was she suddenly reminded of the fantasy novels she had read as a child?
A story of a party united around the hero, overcoming hardships and defeating the Demon King.
‘Knight.’
Though he pretended otherwise, Theo was a fervent follower of Seha.
The reason the once-insufferably arrogant Theo now silently followed behind Seha was not submission. It was reverence offered to a being who could see a truth on a higher dimension than himself.
To Theo, Seha was the one and only messiah in the world who would lead them into the mathematical sanctuary humanity had yet to reach.
She looked at Sujeong.
‘Mage.’
As a specialist in number theory, she was a magician who cleared away the fog spread by difficult problems and systematized the laws of numbers hidden within.
She seemed to be harboring some other thoughts as well, but that would become clear with time.
Cecilia’s gaze turned toward Srinivasa.
‘Alchemist.’
He was an alchemist who placed Seha’s mathematical inspiration into the vast cauldron called engineering and transformed it into materialized data. To Sri, Seha was the Philosopher’s Stone of legend itself. He surely believed Seha was a being who could turn lead into gold.
‘Then what am I?’
Cecilia placed her index finger against her lips and sank into thought.
‘A princess? Since I’m nobility.’
Startled, she shook her head.
If one followed the classic path, the princess had to end up with the hero at the end of the journey. So the role of a bard reciting poems, or a sage, would be more appropriate.
This strange yet powerful expedition was founded on trust in Seha.
So as long as he did not give up, no one would get off the journey first. Even if what waited at the end was not the happy ending everyone desired.
“Cecilia?”
“Hm?”
When she snapped out of her thoughts, everyone was looking at her.
“What interesting thought were you having that made you smile like that?”
“Nothing much. I just remembered a story I used to like.”
Cecilia’s eyes curved softly.
Before she knew it, Seha had picked up the chalk again and was moving all over the blackboard. Beside the equations, he drew a geometric diagram.
“Let’s assume that the reason the zeros align on the critical line of 1/2 is because that line is the only axis in this system where Time-reversal symmetry is preserved.
From now on, let’s replace this numerical correlation with an operator spectrum and trace it.”
Sujeong looked at the blackboard and clenched her fist tightly.
Seha was attempting to transplant the dynamic laws of quantum mechanics into the classical soil of number theory. This bold attempt meant he intended to practically implement the Hilbert-Pólya conjecture, which modern mathematics had cherished only as a hypothesis for decades.
There may be failure, but there is no despair.
Seha had no doubt that these countless failures would eventually pile up and become a staircase leading to the truth.
***
[A rising star of K-Classical music, Han Gyeoul, to perform with the New York Philharmonic. Anticipate the melody that will resound through Lincoln Center.]
—Korea-born genius pianist Han Gyeoul of the Curtis Institute of Music will perform with the world-renowned New York Philharmonic Orchestra.
The performance, to be held this coming weekend local time at David Geffen Hall in New York’s Lincoln Center....
(Omitted)
There is another reason this stage is drawing attention.
It is because the piece that will decorate the finale of the program is not traditional classical music, but the world premiere of mathematician Yu Seha’s composition, “The theme of Duckie.”
A question suddenly arises. Why is the title of the piece Duckie’s Theme?
According to this reporter’s investigation, Yu Seha’s love for ducks has been extraordinary since childhood.... There was even a nickname during his school days alluding to this......
(Omitted)
In addition to being the same age and standing out in the fields of art and mathematics, the two are bound by a special connection as classmates from a gifted high school.
According to an anonymous tip, the two were very close at the time......
(Rest omitted)
└The man composes, the woman performs.
└What kind of absurd situation is this now? Performing with the New York Philharmonic at Lincoln Center, damn.
└You could make a whole movie out of this. Let’s make the genre a thriller.
└Anonymous? Why do I feel like I know who that is? LOL There were a lot of jealous kids.
└Han Gyeoul’s face is insane. At that level, she’s more than qualified to be my future wife.
└Watch yourself. She’s still a minor.
└What the hell is that school? I heard Im Sujeong is from there too.
David Geffen Hall, Lincoln Center, New York.
Gyeoul stood before a large full-length mirror and steadied her breathing. The navy silk dress, reminiscent of the sea at sunset, rippled like waves whenever it caught the light.
“Phew.”
She had been lucky. There was no other way to describe what was happening today.
Naturally, the New York Philharmonic had outstanding pianists. Among her seniors at the Curtis Institute of Music as well, there were plenty of performers with far more impressive careers than hers.
Even Gyeoul herself had not expected today’s position to become hers.
“Stop! You’re not bringing out the feeling at all!”
At Lawrence’s harsh words, the pianists lowered their heads one by one. Neither winners of world-class competitions nor veterans with decades of experience could capture the emotion of the piece that he demanded so persistently.
“This piece isn’t played with technique! Listen carefully. You can feel it in the theme, can’t you? Solitude, obsession, loneliness, the suffocating pain of sinking downward. For it to rise up and move the audience in the second movement, this part is important!”
When everyone shook their heads, the one who sat before the keys last was Gyeoul.
She did not look at the score. It was a piece she had already played thousands of times. When she closed her eyes, she could feel Seha’s heartbeat within the music. Gyeoul understood his desperate, almost agonizing struggle better than anyone else.
The moment her fingers pressed the keys, Lawrence’s eyes flew open.
“I was foolishly looking too far away.”
Her thoughts ended there.
Gyeoul looked into the mirror one last time and adjusted her appearance.
Bang.
The waiting room door opened, and Lawrence strode in. His usual strictness was nowhere to be found, and his face was filled with boyish excitement.
“Gyeoul, are you ready? Outside, it’s already the calm before the storm. The people have no idea what they’re about to hear today.”
He laughed in a low voice, as if full of anticipation.
“Yes, Maestro.”
Gyeoul rose from her seat and walked down the corridor leading to the stage.
The sound of the orchestra tuning from afar, the murmuring noise of the audience. At the end of the corridor, at the entrance to the stage where dazzling lights poured down, Gyeoul stopped for a moment.
She looked toward the audience.
The hall was full.
Among them, there must have been world-renowned critics and prominent figures from Korea and New York. Gyeoul’s gaze passed over them indifferently and turned to one side.
A second-floor balcony seat, slightly removed from the stage. It was the best seat she had been able to obtain. Amid the crowd dressed in splendor, she saw a boy awkwardly fiddling with his tie.
Even if he were mixed into a crowd of tens of thousands, she felt certain she would be able to find Seha.
Thump.
The moment she confirmed Seha’s presence, negative emotions such as anxiety and stage fright were washed clean from her mind.
When she closed her eyes and opened them again, she was in the music room of the gifted high school. A space where only the two of them existed in the world. Gyeoul’s eyes filled with longing.
Perhaps this piece was the story of their immature selves from back then.
Clap, clap, clap!
Gyeoul grasped the hem of her dress and walked out to the center of the stage.
“Now then, it’s time for the duck to fly into the sky.”