Silence hung over the dean’s office.
The man sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed was Murphy, director of the NSA. He made no attempt to hide his displeasure. Whitman, pretending not to notice his mood, lifted his cup and savored the aroma of the tea.
Clink.
“Please, try some. I brought out good tea for you, for once.”
“No, thank you. I prefer coffee.”
The atmosphere was icy.
David, the NSA’s chief researcher, squeezed his eyes shut.
As a cryptography expert and MIT graduate, he had been ordered to attend, but he had not expected things to go this badly.
The director, having reached the end of his patience, clasped both hands beneath his chin and spoke.
“Dean. I believe the NSA and MIT have maintained an excellent relationship over the years. A significant portion of our research personnel are alumni of this school. Many of the projects commissioned by our agency have also been taken on here.
So perhaps I was mistaken. I must have been under the illusion that something called trust existed between us.”
Dean Whitman nodded.
“I feel exactly the same way, Director. After all, our alumni have been involved in every major NSA project.”
“Then would you kindly explain this in a way I can understand? Why, exactly, have I still not been able to meet the student?”
He had been waiting in the dean’s office for thirty minutes.
He did not wait this long even when meeting the president. It felt as if the entire agency had been disrespected, and he was not pleased.
“That is because you came without making an appointment. I’m told Team Apex has a rule. ‘When there is a Do Not Disturb sign on the door, do not bother Seoha.’”
“Even if the director of the NSA comes to see him?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Murphy’s eyes turned cold.
Yu Seoha was “Priority Tier 1,” a subject of the highest priority. Though he was not American, he was a top-priority national security asset who had to be protected by any means necessary. At the same time, however, he was also a key surveillance target. Murphy had never met Seoha in person, but he felt he understood why.
“What kind of student is Yu Seoha?”
It was a rare day when his schedule was clear.
The director decided to relax. He was also genuinely curious.
“I assume you’re asking whether he’s the easy-to-handle type.
The answer would be both yes and no. I read the newspapers too. I imagine you came because of the PQC matter, but if you keep just one thing in mind, I believe things will go the way you want.”
“What would that be?”
“You and the NSA must always think of the national interest first, of course. So you should steer matters so that Seoha’s interests become America’s interests.”
The director laughed heartily.
“Hahaha! And here I thought you were going to say something serious. Isn’t that common sense? Win-win is our agency’s motto.”
Whitman shook his head.
He had been about to explain that this was precisely why they first needed to understand what the boy’s interests were, when a knock sounded at the door.
Knock, knock!
The gazes of all three men turned toward the door at once.
“Come in.”
Murphy’s eyes scanned the person who entered.
A boy in jeans and a hoodie. He was holding a few sheets of paper. Bloodshot eyes, hair roughly brushed aside. It was obvious at a glance that he had been in the lab until just now. His gaze turned toward Murphy and David, then passed over them indifferently.
“I heard you called for me.”
“Come in. The NSA came by insisting they had to meet you.”
Whitman indicated the side with his eyes.
“I’m the director. Call me Murphy.”
“I’m Researcher David. It’s a pleasure! I also graduated from MIT’s math department, so to meet the person who proved the Riemann Hypothesis—”
“David!”
The chief researcher lowered his hand with an awkward expression.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Yu Seoha.”
After a brief commotion, Seoha took a seat.
Murphy observed him closely. An occupational disease he could not help.
‘Hm?’
The way he sat was unusual.
He was perched lightly on the edge of the sofa without leaning back. Looking at his face, he did not seem nervous. In that uncomfortable posture, he placed the papers in his hand on his knees and looked at Murphy. As if to say, if you have business, say it quickly. Surely not...
‘Is he annoyed? Does he want to leave as soon as possible?’
It was a fresh experience.
When people faced the director of the NSA, their reactions largely fell into two categories. They either stiffened under the pressure or became excessively pliant. In that their attitude changed, there was no great difference either way.
Yet the boy’s eyes were as indifferent as those of someone waiting for a burger he had ordered at McDonald’s. Murphy unconsciously swallowed a hollow laugh. To wear such a bored expression in front of a man at the pinnacle of national security.
He decided to cast out a bit of bait.
“I’ve heard a great deal about you. This is the first time seeing you in person, Seoha.
Thanks to the paper you published, our cryptography experts have been unable to go home these days. It was research that effectively neutralized RSA.”
How would he react?
Humility?
Pride?
Or would he joke around and offer an exaggerated apology?
The answer was none of those. He merely furrowed his brow as if he had a headache. After thinking for a moment, he opened his mouth.
“The fact that there were flaws in RSA’s integer factorization algorithms had been consistently predicted for twenty years already. If that system were perfect, no one would have been preparing PQC as an alternative.”
‘Dodging responsibility?’
Murphy could feel a will that said, please don’t drag me into something troublesome.
When the dean had hinted at it, Murphy had been half in doubt. But now he finally understood what he had meant. The boy likely had little interest in honor, recognition, and perhaps even power.
Then what about success?
A spirit of challenge welled up in him. He admitted it. This was a base desire. Similar to wanting to be the first to step onto pristine white ground after snow had fallen early in the morning.
He deftly changed the subject.
“You’re right. That is why we are also hurrying the transition. However, a variable has appeared. The chief researcher here tells me that the new PQC must be created by someone who perfectly understands and can apply the theory you established.”
Seoha nodded.
“That’s probably true.”
A faint smile spread across Murphy’s lips.
“But then this thought occurred to me. Wouldn’t it be best if you, the creator of the theory, did it yourself? Of course, not for nothing. I’ll make you an exceptional offer.”
Rustle.
At his glance, David handed Seoha the envelope he had prepared. Seoha took out the documents and began to read.
‘He’ll be surprised.’
It was an offer two levels above the one Palantir had received.
As soon as he founded a company and completed the cipher, countless public agencies would become his clients. They would provide not only initial capital support, but also high-end equipment and personnel that could not be obtained easily. If things went according to plan, he could become the owner of a decacorn within a few years.
‘Go on, accept it.’
But this was only a backup plan. The true main cipher was being created at NIST. For the U.S. government, it was merely low-risk insurance and an investment.
Slide.
He turned the final page of the documents.
Director Murphy was curious. Could he truly ignore the scent of immense wealth written into those papers? It was an offer that even Buddha or Gandhi could not help being tempted by.
However, the words that came from Seoha’s mouth were completely outside his expectations. Furrowing his brow, Seoha said,
“So... you’re saying I have to run the company myself?”
“Huh?”
Murphy let out an uncharacteristically stupid sound.
‘That’s what you’re most curious about?’
His expression looked as though he had been given a punishment. Appalled, he pushed the envelope back onto the table. Then, looking at Murphy with a deliberately serious face, he said,
“Director. I’m sorry, but I’m still a minor, so I can’t accept this proposal. What company would want to sign a contract with a CEO who has the Power of Disaffirmance (* a contract made while one is a minor can be legally canceled)?”
He wanted to refuse badly enough to give a plausible excuse? Murphy let out a hollow laugh.
“It was an honor to meet you. I have something urgent to do, so I’ll be going first.”
He did not look honored in the slightest.
Like a waiter avoiding a troublesome customer, he smoothly rose and slipped out. Murphy was so flustered he did not even think to stop him.
Heavy air flowed through the dean’s office.
His gaze, which had been blankly fixed on the closed door, shifted to the envelope on the table. A dream ticket anyone with ability would crave. But now it was nothing more than a troublesome bundle of paper.
“Pfft, hahahaha!”
The dean’s hearty laughter broke the silence.
He laughed so hard his shoulders shook, enough that the teacup in his hand trembled. The director narrowed his eyes at him, but Whitman could not stop laughing for quite some time.
“Dean, is this something to laugh about?”
“I’m sorry. I keep thinking of his expression... Pfft! It was a sight to behold. It’s the expression I see when I assign students far too much homework.”
He barely managed to suppress his laughter and set down his teacup.
“Did I not tell you? Steer things in a direction that benefits Seoha. The owner of a decacorn? To that child, that is nothing but a punishment and a prison that steals away his research time. The power to void a contract as a minor... Pfft! He must have hurriedly searched it up on his smartphone on the way here.”
The director gathered the documents on the table and put them into his bag.
“I’ll be going.”
“I’ll take that to mean you’ve given up.”
“No. It means I’ll come back after devising a new strategy.”
For the first time in a long while, he had become interested in a human being.
At the same time, he felt a sense of crisis. A once-in-a-century genius who could not be won over with money or power. One day, he would surely become a threat to America. Murphy resolved that, no matter what it took, he had to bring him into the fold.
On the way out, David bowed his head as he looked at him.
“Director, I’m sorry. My strategy was poorly planned...”
“No! Who could have predicted he would reject this? Rewrite the Yu Seoha report from the beginning. Find conditions he absolutely cannot refuse. Dig through every record from his birth to the present.”
The black sedan glided out of the campus.
* * *
Even after that, many people came looking for Seoha.
Capitalists from Silicon Valley, some hundred-and-somethingth prince of Saudi Arabia, a Chinese diplomat accompanied by a renowned professor. But all of them had to leave after only a few minutes.
The biggest problem was that Seoha had little interest in cryptography. Even if it was not him, PQC would certainly be created someday. Seoha did not want to spend his time and effort on it.
And finally today, Minister Lee Hyeonseok personally came to MIT.
Once again, the meeting was arranged in the dean’s office. Since contact had come through the embassy, Seoha could not avoid the meeting. With an indifferent expression, Seoha read the proposal he handed over.
The establishment of an independent research institute, provision of a national-level budget and research environment, the possibility of holding concurrent positions at MIT and the Korean research institute, autonomy in hiring researchers, and allocation of PQC patents.
It was, without question, an unprecedented offer that no Korean researcher had ever received.
Enormous benefits on par with the Institute for Basic Science (IBS). This was the result obtained through the minister’s forceful insistence, having taken Jiyun’s advice to heart.
Flutter.
“Huh?”
Seoha’s eyes widened.
‘Amend the law to include the Fields Medal on the list for military service special exemptions.’
It was an issue that had not even been discussed until now because there had been no recipients.
It was not common sense that special exemptions granted to third-place winners at the Olympics, first-place winners at the Asian Games, and those who placed second or higher in international competitions were not granted to Fields Medalists.
‘Hehehe. Well? How do you like our offer...’
It was truly an offer into which they had poured their heart and soul. Even Jiyun had nodded, saying that at this level, it was worth trying.
Seeing his startled face, the minister smiled in satisfaction. However, the point that had surprised Seoha was something else entirely.
“I’m planning to enlist as active duty, though?”
“What?”
Looking at Seoha’s face, he was sincere.
The minister felt his head go numb. Forgetting even his own position, he ended up shouting.
“Say something that makes sense! Why would you go there!”