Chapter 146: China Wants To Poach Talent Too
February 1963, Kiev.
Cold wind howled outside the Cybernetics Institute of the Academy of Sciences, shaking the frosted windows of Victor Glushkov’s office.
Inside the room, a bulky electronic computer in the corner emitted a faint hum, its indicator lights flashing without stopping.
On the wall hung Glushkov’s work achievements: sketches of cybernetics systems and computer designs casually pinned next to a bookshelf stuffed with technical journals.
Glushkov sat at his desk, hunched over a pile of blueprints and handwritten calculations, his brows furrowed in deep thought.
He had recently been preparing for OGAS.
Because he knew very well that sooner or later, whether this year or next, the Kremlin would approve his pilot plan.
This was determined by reality.
No one had better access to Western journals than they did, and thus understood better the immense pressure brought by the free world.
Unless the Soviet Union did not want to win, OGAS would eventually be put on the agenda.
Of course, after Nikita was ousted, someone who truly did not want to win came along—this was a development no one had anticipated.
Compared to corn, the medal was practically anthropomorphic.
The door suddenly opened, and a young assistant stumbled in, panting heavily, clutching a telegraph tightly in his hand. His face beamed with irrepressible excitement:
“Director Victor Glushkov! News from Moscow!” he shouted, thrusting the telegraph forward.
Glushkov looked up, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took the telegraph. His fingers lightly brushed the paper, scanning the brief text:
The Kremlin approves OGAS pilots in Ukraine, East Germany, Poland, and Czechoslovakia; complete feasibility study and scheme design within half a year.
Glushkov’s hand trembled slightly, his calm exterior masking a surging inner turmoil.
He had thought that day when this ambitious plan would not come to fruition.
Unexpectedly, the path turned at the peak.
Far away across thousands of miles, Randolph Lin had given him a powerful assist.
And he had drawn sufficient experience from Lin Ran’s news; together, they created this world, the birth of a simplified OGAS in Eastern Europe.
He slowly stood up, walked to the window, and gazed at the snow-covered city. For a moment, the room was silent, save for the soft hum of the machine behind him.
Then, he turned around, a firm smile blooming on his face.
“Comrades,” he announced to the colleagues at the Cybernetics Institute, his voice steady yet filled with passion, “the moment we have waited for has arrived. The Kremlin has approved the OGAS pilot project!”
A burst of cheers erupted as his followers—those young scientists and engineers who supported his vision—gathered around. Their eyes sparkled with hope and determination.
Among them was Ivan, a gaunt engineer with disheveled hair, who exclaimed excitedly.
“Director, this is it!” he shouted. “The opportunity we’ve dreamed of! OGAS will completely change the way we manage the economy; we will lead the world into a new era!”
It was the worst of times, it was the best of times, it was the age of idealism, it was the age of hope.
Glushkov nodded, his smile warm yet tinged with unease. “Yes, Ivan, this is a great victory. But we cannot ignore reality; this is just the beginning. Whether OGAS succeeds as a pilot in these four Eastern European countries will determine the fate of OGAS.
The road ahead is steep.
We must give it our all!”
Natasha Kapitonova, a sharp-eyed, strikingly beautiful female engineer, stepped forward. “We are ready, Director Glushkov,” she said firmly. “We’ve prepared for so long, isn’t it all for this day?
Now is the time to prove ourselves. OGAS will prove that compared to machines, humanity is stupid, full of selfishness and greed.”
Glushkov walked to the center of the crowd; the control institute was one he had built single-handedly, so he commanded both authority and affection here.
Glushkov looked around, gazing at those familiar faces:
“Comrades, OGAS is not just a technical project; it is our promise to our ideals. Through computer networks, we can streamline the economy, eliminate bureaucratic inefficiency, and demonstrate the true power of the planned economy.”
He paused, his tone turning serious. “But make no mistake, opposition is everywhere. Some fear change, clinging tightly to their power, afraid that machines will replace them—though that is indeed what we intend to achieve.
We must meet these challenges with scientific rigorousness and unwavering conviction.”
“Exactly,” Glushkov’s eyes gleamed. “The Cold War is not just a contest of missiles or ideology; after Professor Lin proposed the technological singularity, it will also be a competition of innovation. We must prove to the world that machines can do more than calculate mathematical equations or play chess—they can assist human decision making, even replace it.”
For Glushkov, this was undoubtedly an unprecedented surprise.
The Soviet Union would undergo unprecedented change because of OGAS.
Regarding Deep Blue, the time for China to get the reports was not much later than for the Soviet Union.
They had to wait at least a month or more to get Western newspapers.
But Hong Kong newspapers would report it.
Although Lin Ran himself said he was European Chinese descent, due to his Sir title and serving as a visiting professor at Hong Kong University, in the minds of Hong Kong people, Lin Ran was half a Hong Kong person.
Plus the formulation of shipping standards, in the group photo filled with white faces, Pao Yue-kong from Hong Kong was the only Chinese person.
Who had earned them this face? It was Lin Ran.
With all these factors combined, even if Lin Ran was not a Hong Kong person, in the minds of Hong Kong people, he was no different.
Therefore, regarding Deep Blue, local Hong Kong newspapers covered it extensively.
The Overseas Chinese Daily’s headline was: “Chinese Descent Scientists’ Glorious Achievement, Machine Player Deep Blue Debuts”
The emphasis was on the outstanding achievements of Chinese descent scientists and setting an example for China’s technology development.
The Overseas Chinese Daily leaned toward China.
While papers like Hong Kong Times, which leaned toward the island, focused their reports on “Deep Blue Debuts, Professor Strikes Again with Divine Power”
The headline was that, and the content emphasized that the island would vigorously develop the electronics industry, contributing to humanity’s realization of artificial intelligence.
The South China Morning Post was relatively neutral, but its report also lavishly praised Lin Ran, considering him a Da Vinci-like figure of this era:
“.Achievements spanning mathematics, aerospace, computers; the professor, as the top-tier brain of this era, has once again proven his ability, indeed as he said, he brings only success after success.”
These reports would appear in Yanjing in just two days, and in Panzhihua in three.
“As expected, this is truly what White Horse wanted to tell us.” Dean Qian and Hua Luogeng discussed.
With Hua Luogeng’s ability, position, and background, plus his mathematics expertise, he could access certain White Horse news.
He knew of White Horse’s existence and could guess that White Horse was Lin Ran.
He could access these.
But how Lin Ran transmitted it, how he passed back information and physical items, that Raspberry Pi was an alien product—these were information Hua Luogeng could not access.
He had not even seen the High Castle Strange People manuscript that Lin Ran transmitted back.
Dean Qian knew a bit more, but only limitedly, such as that the Raspberry Pi was personally handed to the Chinese representative at the Geneva meeting.
“Yes, the technological singularity brought by computers is the most important.
The reason America has always vigorously developed computer technology is that computers as carriers, with the artificial intelligence they carry, are the key.” Dean Qian added.
As someone nearly eighty who understood virtual reality and, in that era, proposed the metaverse concept (though not called metaverse; he named it “Spiritual Realm,” later borrowed by some author), Dean Qian was undoubtedly extremely perceptive about technology.
He was even more convinced of the existence of the technological singularity.
Even without Lin Ran’s explanation, Dean Qian could imagine how terrifying the technological singularity truly was.
Combined with the Raspberry Pi being an alien product, he better understood why America’s semiconductor technology had developed so rapidly and why they valued it so much.
At this time, America’s semiconductors relied almost entirely on army orders, with no personal market.
Semiconductors were the foundation of computers, and computers were the foundation of artificial intelligence; after the technological singularity’s artificial intelligence concept was proposed, it formed a perfect closed loop in Dean Qian’s mind.
Hua Luogeng interrupted: “Old Qian, I have only one doubt.
That is, if the technological singularity is truly that decisive point.
We all know that theoretically it can be achieved, and once achieved, it can unleash unimaginable power.
It’s hard to imagine, with America’s current industrial production capacity combined with the automation production capacity brought by artificial intelligence, to what extent their production capacity could explode.”
At present, America was not yet the castrated America of later years.
It still possessed unrivaled global production capacity, continuously supplying materials to the Berlin Airlift.
For Chinese people at this time who understood the gap, the more they thought, the easier it was to fall into despair.
Whether Dean Qian or Hua Luogeng, both had studied and worked in America; the longer they had stayed there, the more valuable their resolute choice to return to China.
Making such a decision was truly not easy.
Upon returning, they had status and power; compared to material gaps, the power scientists gained was negligible.
“What I cannot understand is, why did America announce it?
They could have silently made a fortune, and after achieving it, then say we have realized the technological singularity.
Why announce it in advance? Why pull the Soviet Union into a competition that truly concerns life and death.” Hua Luogeng continued.
After reading the reports that crossed the ocean, this was the one thing Hua Luogeng could not figure out.
Mathematicians understood the power of computers better and how terrifying the technological singularity truly was.
After the comrades from the Mathematics Institute of the Chinese Academy of Sciences arrived in Panzhihua one after another, the first thing they did was design a completely new algorithm for the comrades at the Meteorological Bureau far away in Yanjing.
National meteorological data was collected not only in Yanjing but also in Panzhihua.
The Meteorological Bureau’s work in weather forecasting was merely to notify the weather to various places across the country.
The optimized complex model brought weather prediction precision to 90%.
This allowed Hua Luogeng and the others to further intuitively experience the terror of computers.
As a mathematician who had seen the Raspberry Pi, after encountering the technological singularity, he felt enlightenment and never doubted it was strategic deception.
If China could mass-produce Raspberry Pis, one per person, it was unimaginable what explosive development China would see in technology.
And this was just computers, which could only solve mathematical equations.
As for the artificial intelligence Lin Ran mentioned, how terrifying its power would be—Hua Luogeng felt an unprecedented sense of urgency just thinking about it.
The high-level officials in Panzhihua thought similarly.
From their perspective, America had many Raspberry Pis, and semiconductor development advancing a thousand miles in a day benefited from being able to reverse-engineer and crack the Raspberry Pi obtained from aliens, and they might also have obtained secrets about artificial intelligence and the technological singularity.
America’s ultimate purpose was to create artificial intelligence capable of realizing the technological singularity.
This logical chain was very complete.
Dean Qian said wistfully: “Perhaps a piece of the artificial intelligence puzzle is in someone else’s hands.”
Dean Qian knew of aliens’ existence; in his view, it was possible that America’s research on artificial intelligence had hit a bottleneck.
He guessed that the best way to break this bottleneck was to bring in the Soviet Union, which had part of the alien legacy, so everyone could advance together.
That day after returning, Dean Qian began writing a report, suggesting it would be best to also show the High Castle Strange People manuscript to Hua Luogeng.
The Raspberry Pi operation manual and simulation software operation manual that Hua Luogeng accessed were all hand-copied versions.
Additionally, why did China never suspect that the Raspberry Pi was a future product or from another parallel spacetime, and not doubt the embedded English language operating system and English simulation software interface inside?
This was because the underlying logic of computers was circuitry of 0s and 1s.
As early as the 1940s, machine language—binary 0s and 1s—was already used to operate computers.
By 1947, assembly language existed, and in the 1950s, IBM had led higher-level languages.
So from China’s perspective, America, which might have obtained the Raspberry Pi in the 1940s, first built its own computers based on the Raspberry Pi, then developed machine language, assembly language, and high-level languages based on its own computers.
Finally, using these languages, it built its own operating system on the Raspberry Pi.
This was not impossible.
As for simulation software, in the 1950s, NASA’s X-15 spacecraft project used the IBM 7090 for aerodynamics simulation.
Mainstream newspapers like the New York Times and Washington Post reported on NASA using new computers to support X-15 flight testing.
Just from these reports mentioning new computers and supporting tests, China immediately associated it with: you’re using the Raspberry Pi for aerodynamics simulation, right?
So as long as no one in China could directly access how things operated internally in America, with Lin Ran saying the Raspberry Pi came from aliens, China could never guess close to the truth just by guessing.
“This is?”
The next day, in the most secure place in the entire Area 51, led by Dean Qian with a blindfold on, weaving left and right, Hua Luogeng opened it to find a room with two books inside.
Dean Qian said: “Read here first; we’ll talk after you’re done. Pull the bell if you need anything; someone will arrange it.”
One was the manuscript, the other an imported copy of High Castle Strange People from New York.
All in English.
Hua Luogeng found it somewhat difficult to read.
But he still spent three full half-days gritting his teeth to finish it, working in the mornings and reading here in the afternoons and evenings.
After finishing, he returned to Dean Qian’s office, feeling a sense of unreality:
“Does the Raspberry Pi come from another world or aliens?”
“White Horse said aliens.”
After Dean Qian revealed more information, Hua Luogeng pondered: “Did America obtain a batch of Raspberry Pis, or a Raspberry Pi production equipment?”
This made him even more curious.
“It should be Raspberry Pis; I find it harder to imagine what production equipment would be like.” Dean Qian said.
Hua Luogeng paced in the office. “I suspect it might have been obtained from NAZI Germany.
Do you know Chu Ze?”
Dean Qian thought for a long time but truly could not recall who this person was: “No.”
“He was a German scientist; I met him in Göttingen after the war and heard his story.
He was muttering to himself like a madman, saying America had stolen his achievements.
At the time, I had nothing to do and was waiting for Professor Seagull to pick me up, so I chatted with him.
In 1938, he built the first computer named Z1; computers back then were decimal, but only Z1 was binary.
Later, with Z2, he started using relays instead of metal rods and levers for binary calculations.
By Z3, it could perform all addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, and square root calculations.
I only heard up to there at the time; in 1939, he proposed to the German government to build an electronic computer.
Combined with High Castle Strange People, I think Chu Ze might know something.
What he said about America stealing his achievements might refer to the Raspberry Pi.”
Konrad Chu Ze, considered by some as the father of computers, designed the first binary computer Z1, the first Turing-complete computer Z3, and also designed the first high-level programming language Plankalkül, the first true computer chess engine.
But because he was in Germany, not Silicon Valley, he did not achieve great commercial success.
And what Hua Luogeng said about Americans stealing his achievements was also a wonderful misunderstanding.
Because after the war, Chu Ze hoped to obtain funds to continue his research, only to find his registered patents not recognized by America, while IBM had already registered them.
Dreaming of suing in America against IBM? Impossible, and he did not have the money.
Dean Qian’s eyes lit up upon hearing this: “No, what you said might actually be possible.
Can you think more carefully about where exactly you encountered this person?”
“University of Göttingen.”
“Do you still remember what he looked like?”
“I need to think carefully; what are you planning?”
“After World War II, he was still in Göttingen and not taken by America; he might be a treasure trove. The Soviet Union and America divided the German scientists; why can’t we strive for overlooked gems like Chu Ze?”
