Chapter 69

“Make NASA Great Again? MNGA?”

Lin Ran ate the fried potatoes in front of him and remarked casually.

James Webb’s style was more flamboyant; the two of them, dressed in sharp suits, sat in a traditional American burger joint, and the contrast looked utterly incongruous.

Fortunately, this was Washington, and there were other guests dressed similarly.

After the teasing, Lin Ran still wanted to answer the question properly:

“You want me to improve NASA’s R&D efficiency, conduct more theoretical validation, and reduce error rates?”

In an era when computer computing power was limited and all kinds of data simulation algorithms were still underdeveloped, the involvement of a great mathematician remained highly effective from a risk-avoidance perspective.

Lin Ran guessed that Kennedy didn’t want another spectacle like the live broadcast of a satellite explosion—this would damage not only NASA’s credibility but also the White House’s.

James Webb nodded: “That’s only part of it.

The current White House dislikes that every scientist in NASA, from top to bottom, is a former Nazi German scientist; some merely provided technical support to Germany, but others offered additional assistance.

But out of pragmatism, we had no choice but to let them dominate NASA entirely.

Yet the White House doesn’t want this to become the norm.

You know, we accuse the Soviet Union in the media of stealing our atomic bomb technology, and similarly, they accuse us of massively employing Nazi German scientists to compete with them.

Ignoring the crimes they once committed.

Eisenhower could ignore it, but Kennedy cares.

We want you to become NASA’s iconic scientist, not von Braun.

You’re currently the President’s Special Assistant for Space Affairs; in the future, we can add the title of NASA’s Chief Scientist.”

Undoubtedly, James Webb, having worked in Washington for years, had mastered the politician’s essential skill: making empty promises.

After listening, Lin Ran asked puzzled: “Mr. Webb, but I’ve only ever demonstrated talent in mathematics.

Where did you hear of me, and why do you have such confidence that I can contribute in aerospace?”

James Webb explained: “Haines—he’s my father’s student and an acquaintance of mine at NASA.

When I asked him which scientist in NASA could definitely outshine von Braun, he said he wasn’t sure about anyone else, but you definitely could.

Later, I carefully reviewed your resume in the newspapers; your mathematical talent is unquestionable. That Professor Hockheimer took you as his final disciple proves you also have original insights in philosophy.

Achieving something in aerospace, I believe, is well within your reach. As a lawyer appointed by President Kennedy as NASA’s director, your qualifications far surpass mine.”

This completed the logical loop.

Lin Ran began recalling James Webb’s biography: his father had been the principal of a public school in Granville County, North Carolina, and Haines had indeed been his student—this was plausible.

As for the idea that excellence in mathematics implies success in aerospace, that was even easier to understand.

Excellence in mathematics was a natural halo, and at Lin Ran’s level, the title of “Prince of Mathematics,” awaiting coronation after he completed the Randolph Program, was already his to claim.

Even without completing the Randolph Program, he was already comparable in stature to Évariste Galois.

To laypeople, there’s always a myth: that if you’re good at math, you can’t fail at anything. Just look at Wall Street, which hires math Ph.D.s every year at high salaries, even if they have zero financial background.

“On February 12, 1961, in Washington, D.C., the security hearing for Randolph Lin officially commenced. This renowned mathematician, who had solved Fermat’s Conjecture, did not retreat when questioned by the Federal Security Committee about his reliability; instead, he launched a counterattack with astonishing rhetorical skill and legal knowledge. His performance resembled that of a seasoned lawyer or politician, leaving everyone in the room astonished...”

In the mathematics seminar room at the City University of New York, Harry Kane’s number theory seminar was about to begin, but besides paper and pens, the room was filled mostly with newspapers from the past two days.

The front pages of all the newspapers carried news of Lin Ran’s hearing in Washington.

The New York Times ran a front-page headline: “Mathematician Turns Lawyer, Cites Authorities to Refute Accusations,” praising Lin Ran for “defending his innocence with the rigor of a jurist and the eloquence of a politician,” and lamenting: “This scientist has made people almost forget his true field is mathematics, not law.”

The Washington Post commented: “Randolph’s rebuttal not only displayed his intellect but also exposed the weakness of the Republican congressmen’s accusations. His citations caught the opposition off guard, forcing the hearing to reexamine the validity of the charges.” The article also predicted this performance might alter the hearing’s direction.

Time Magazine’s feature wrote: “Randolph, with his profound knowledge and exceptional oratory, shattered the stereotype of scientists. His performance convincingly proved he is not merely a scientific giant, but a master debater.”

Scientific American stated: “Randolph used knowledge and truth to confront prejudice, setting an example for the scientific community and society at large. In this age of fear, his courage is especially precious.”

Of course, not all media praised him; the Chicago Tribune questioned in its report: “Although Randolph’s debate was impressive, his possible close ties to China cannot be ignored. Whether these ties are truly harmless still requires careful evaluation.”

In the seminar room, the mathematicians took turns flipping through the newspapers, discussing as they read:

“Kane, you said Randolph is coming today—is that true? You invited him several times before, and he only showed up twice. He’s about to take a position at the White House—how could he possibly have time for our number theory seminar?” asked Courant, of the Courant Institute at New York University.

Harry Kane replied: “The White House appointment hasn’t been finalized yet; Randolph has already returned to New York. He promised me he’d come to today’s seminar to share his thoughts on the ABC conjecture.”

After Lin Ran proposed the ABC conjecture, it sparked intense reactions in number theory, regarded as a problem on par with Fermat’s Last Theorem, even considered by some to be greater.

Unlike Fermat’s Last Theorem, however, it simply needed time to mature.

Harry Kane’s confidence came from Lin Ran’s former student, Chen Jingrun, who sat in a chair flipping through newspapers filled with half-portraits of Lin Ran, thinking:

“Professor Lin, you’ve made quite a splash here in America!”