Chapter 12: The Unexpected

Some once-familiar names were stirred awake, and memories and old acquaintances flooded his mind.

To be honest, Horkheimer and Larry Meyer were not very familiar to him. Apart from being colleagues, they had little personal connection, and their academic research rarely intersected.

He had never heard that Larry Meyer had any Chinese students.

“Alright, child, what do you want from me?” Horkheimer asked, trying to suppress his inner doubts.

Lin Ran did not choose Li Jun Nan, the great-grandfather of Li Xiaoman, but instead chose Larry Meyer precisely because Meyer was deceased. In an era when information was not freely flowing, it was difficult for Horkheimer or other prominent members of the Frankfurt School to verify the truth of what Lin Ran claimed.

Li Jun Nan’s son—Li Xiaoman’s great-grandfather—was still alive and well in New York. If Lin Ran had presented the badge as belonging to Li Jun Nan, and someone with ill intent had tracked down the badge from Li Xiaoman’s great-grandfather, that would have posed a considerable risk.

Furthermore, for Lin Ran, he needed the protection of the Frankfurt School, and the Frankfurt School, in turn, needed top talents like him to boost their reputation in government and academia.

Who said the Frankfurt School’s critical theory was only applicable to humanities and social sciences? Applied to mathematics, critical theory helped solve Fermat’s Last Theorem, which had stood for centuries. Applied to engineering, it helped America achieve manned lunar landings ahead of the Soviet Union.

Before Lin Ran, a top talent from the Frankfurt School, joined NASA, NASA had lagged behind the Soviet space agency in artificial satellites and manned spaceflight.

By then, the Frankfurt School’s extensive influence in America would naturally promote him. The main members of the Frankfurt School were mostly Jewish.

Lin Ran would become the Frankfurt School’s representative in the fields of science and engineering, helping them expand the influence of critical theory in academia.

It was a win-win situation.

“I hope to become a professor in the Mathematics Department at Columbia University,” Lin Ran said.

Horkheimer raised an eyebrow. “That’s not an easy matter. Do you have a doctoral degree from a European university?”

Horkheimer was clearly amused by the young man’s lofty ambitions. His credibility had significantly dropped after claiming to be an old acquaintance of Larry Meyer.

In his impression, Larry Meyer was at best a literary critic, far removed from mathematicians.

“No,” Lin Ran answered frankly.

Horkheimer shook his head. “That makes things difficult. Even with my recommendation, you still need to convince Ralph Fox.”

“He’s not easily persuaded,” Horkheimer added.

Ralph Fox served as chair of Columbia’s Mathematics Department from 1952 to 1962, and 1960 was mid-way through his tenure.

Another important reason Lin Ran chose Columbia University as his first destination was its friendliness toward Chinese people.

At this time, Zhou Yuanshen was an assistant professor in statistics at Columbia. On New Year’s Day 1960—the very day Lin Ran arrived in the 1960s—Zhou Yuanshen was transferred to IBM’s Watson Laboratory.

For a long period, IBM maintained close ties with the military. Zhou’s assignment to IBM’s core Watson Lab was significant.

Moreover, Wang An, the future founder of Wang Laboratories, was also rising in New York. Zhou’s future student, Professor Shaw-Hwa Lo, would directly become chair of Columbia’s Mathematics Department.

All these factors combined to show the friendliness of New York and Columbia University toward Chinese people at that time.

“I am confident I can persuade Professor Fox,” Lin Ran said with inexplicable confidence, giving Horkheimer a strange feeling.

The room fell silent.

Before Horkheimer could speak, loud footsteps and a shout from security broke the silence: “Sir, you can’t enter the professor’s office without permission!”

The door slammed open, led by a typical German-looking man, one of whom Lin Ran recognized as Ebenezer Haines.

Ebenezer Haines apologized profusely: “Randolph, this is Arthur Rudolph, my superior. Sorry, after I gave him your manuscript, he insisted on coming to see you.”

Before Haines finished, Arthur Rudolph interrupted: “Enough, Randolph. NASA needs your help. Please come with us.”

Haines had not initially told Rudolph about Lin Ran, but after Lin Ran’s prolonged stay in New York and Rudolph’s pressure, he revealed the full story.

Rudolph was displeased that Haines had let the man slip away. After reviewing the Newtonian gravitational perturbation correction formula derivation sent by Haines from the Redstone Arsenal’s math experts, his dissatisfaction grew.

Such a genius was allowed to escape? Regardless of genius or not, they had to bring him back to the base first for verification.

Under performance pressure, Rudolph personally came to New York with two federal agents from the Redstone Arsenal to apprehend him.

Lin Ran realized the situation was dire and knew only Horkheimer could save him now.

Knowing Rudolph’s style, if he went to NASA, who knew what trouble would arise.

Although he had a way to guarantee his personal safety, he did not want to reveal that ability.

“Professor Horkheimer, these two are NASA agents. They are proof enough of my abilities, right?” Lin Ran then approached Horkheimer, took the Fabian Society badge from his pocket, and whispered, “Professor, this proves my father once worked with Larry Meyer. Also, I have proven Fermat’s Last Theorem.”

There was no need to say more.

Horkheimer took the Fabian Society badge from Lin Ran and rubbed it in his hand. Looking at the four men who had burst in aggressively, his face darkened.

“Get out! I don’t think the President has given NASA the authority to forcibly conscript personnel. This is Columbia University, not your playground.”

Thanks to Professor Horkheimer’s words, the security guards waiting outside finally entered en masse and dragged the four men out.

As they left, Haines apologized to Lin Ran with hands clasped, but Lin Ran did not even glance at him.

Once the office was quiet again, Horkheimer’s earlier fury had vanished without a trace, and he appeared once more as a harmless, ordinary professor.

“Don’t read too much into it. I’m not doing this for you. Arthur Rudolph is a butcher—not a good man. I didn’t expect to see him here of all places.”