Chapter 14: Having a Badge Isn

“Professor, thank you,” Lin Ran said.

Horkheimer said: “We are all atonal collectives.”

Seeing Lin Ran’s lack of reaction, he shook his head and smiled: “Alright, it seems Larry Mayer didn’t convey much of Theodor Adorno’s thought to you.”

In Horkheimer’s memory, Larry Mayer was a devoted follower of Theodor Adorno, whose philosophical work, *Negative Dialectics*, was a pivotal force in shaping contemporary Western intellectual history toward postmodernism and post-Marxism, laying the theoretical foundation for nearly a century of critical theory.

The phrase “atonal collective” mentioned by Horkheimer originated from Adorno’s concept of “atonal dialectical imagination” in *Negative Dialectics*.

Back when they were at the Frankfurt University Institute for Social Research, they privately refused to call themselves a collective, preferring instead to say they were all atonal collectives.

Lin Ran’s heart tightened. *Damn, Guoran just relying on the badge isn’t enough—I still need to fully grasp the philosophical positions and historical context of the Frankfurt School, or I won’t be able to get by with just this badge.*

He also wondered: Could it be that the Frankfurt School elders had a different name for this badge during their founding ceremony?

The truth behind these historical details was hard to know unless you were an eyewitness.

Although Lin Ran’s response failed to satisfy Horkheimer and instead stirred some doubt within him, he still did not refuse to give this young Chinese-American a chance and a bit of guidance from a senior.

“Relax—even if you don’t have the Fabian Society badge, I won’t let you be taken away by Rudolf.”

I’ve heard of Arthur Rudolf—he’s no good man. He worked for Nazi Germany and has plenty of blood on his hands.

Many in Washington want him dead; only because he’s stationed at the remote Red Stone Base and works for NASA can he barely survive.”

Lin Ran suddenly understood: Horkheimer was Jewish; clearly, among the German scientists recruited by Nazi Germany, this group of Jewish academic elites had heard of those who committed atrocities.

That’s why Horkheimer showed no mercy toward the man.

Horkheimer continued: “Although Arthur Rudolf worked for Nazi Germany, the blood on his hands wasn’t mostly Jewish—it was Irish.”

At this, Horkheimer said no more, and Lin Ran could guess the rest.

In America, the Irish were the second-largest ethnic group, highly united and politically successful, with many major figures in Washington hailing from Irish descent.

The 2008 Vice President of America, Joe, was a famous Irish-American political heavyweight.

“But you don’t need to worry—NASA doesn’t just snatch anyone they want.”

Arthur Rudolf probably intends to recruit you directly into NASA as an engineer through Operation Paperclip.”

But with me vouching for you, he cannot use Operation Paperclip to force you into NASA against your will.”

Lin Ran asked curiously: “Professor, what is Operation Paperclip?”

Horkheimer tapped his forehead: “Oh, I forgot you didn’t know about this plan—it was launched after WWII, when NASA passed Operation Paperclip to directly recruit German scientists by force.”

This operation continued until today, though now its targets are scientists from Cold War adversary nations.”

Arthur Rudolf likely plans to classify you as a scientist from China.”

But with me vouching for you, where you’re from no longer matters.”

Lin Ran’s heart still hovered uneasily—though the man didn’t outright say he didn’t believe Lin Ran’s claim of being from Europe, that was clearly the implication.

Lin Ran did not expose this unspoken truth but thanked him again: “Understood, Professor, thank you.

If you hadn’t been here today, I wouldn’t know what fate awaited me.”

He then briefly recounted his prior dealings with Haines and how his solved equation could benefit NASA.

Horkheimer frowned tightly: “Alright, I understand.

Randolph, better late than never—I’ll arrange it now. Today at 3 PM, in the Columbia University Mathematics Department, give a lecture on Fermat’s Last Theorem. Prepare quickly.”

“Alright.”

This was the advantage of choosing Fermat’s Last Theorem as a door-opener—if you’d mentioned the Twin Prime Conjecture or the Poincaré Conjecture, you’d have to explain its value to a philosopher like Horkheimer before he grasped its weight.

But Fermat’s Last Theorem, a famous conjecture from the 17th century tied to Fermat himself, needed no explanation—anyone would instantly recognize its significance.

Ralph Fox, head of Columbia University’s Mathematics Department, specialized in differential topology.

More than his academic achievements, his anecdotes in Go were what people loved to talk about.

But they weren’t talked about because he was skilled—they were talked about because he was terrible.

At Princeton, he played Go against Stephen Smale, who gave him a handicap of several stones.

“What?” Ralph Fox stared in shock—he certainly knew Horkheimer, the famed professor of philosophy and leader of the Frankfurt School.

Now this man came to him saying one of their Chinese graduate students had proven Fermat’s Last Theorem.

Had anyone else said it, he’d have thought it was an April Fools’ joke four months early.

“I can’t confirm it myself, which is why I’ve come to ask you to organize an internal academic seminar for him today.”

If his proof is genuine, we must immediately offer him a professorship and prepare to convene a nationwide academic conference.”

“Sorry, I’m not familiar with Fermat’s Last Theorem. Many professors are still on vacation in Europe.”

Let me think—who should I invite to this seminar?

Oh my God, Professor Horkheimer, you’ve given me an unexpected surprise—1960’s beginning is so sudden.”

“Alright, I get it. Let’s use the classroom on the southwest side of the second floor in the math building.”

“Sorry, this is too sudden—I need to alert the professors to prepare.”

Ralph Fox planned to first summon Lipman Bers and Paul Cohen.

Though none of them worked on Fermat’s Last Theorem or related fields, they could make a rough judgment.

Whether the proof was credible.

That much they could still do.

If it was credible, they’d immediately recall every professor on vacation.

Compared to Fermat’s Last Theorem, vacation meant nothing.