Chapter 151: Larry King
Wearing deep blue striped pajamas, he suddenly appeared in the office of the Mathematics Department at Queens College of New York City University. Even though Chen Jingrun pinched his thigh the moment he entered the room to confirm this was reality and not a dream, he still felt an extremely strong sense of unreality.
This sense of unreality had started the instant he received the telephone call.
There was no caller ID at this time.
Caller ID sounds quite simple, but this function wouldn’t be available until 1976, when AT&T began researching the technology to transmit caller information to user equipment, and it took more than a decade from research to actual commercialization.
A midnight call was already thrilling enough.
Because at this time, for example, calls from overseas or even across states were very likely handled by human operators who would connect the call, ask where you wanted to call, and then transfer it to the corresponding area.
At this time, the America telephone network was in a transitional period from the old traditional system to a fully digital system. Chen Jingrun’s sensitive identity meant that a midnight call from China or elsewhere could potentially cause unnecessary risk.
And the reason for choosing a public telephone at New York City University to call Chen Jingrun, rather than finding Huang Yunji or Long Sifan.
The former, as the editor-in-chief of the Overseas Chinese Daily News, had an identity that was too sensitive. Although historically, he had steadily lived into the 1980s and participated in reporting on a series of subsequent major events, Lin Ran was uncertain if his identity had been exposed.
Because Lin Ran felt that the other’s work was certainly important, but absolutely not highly confidential.
And after his own appearance, Lin Ran couldn’t determine the level of attention Huang Yunji received from relevant America departments.
The latter was even a dangerous figure among dangerous figures; his father had passed away just last year (1962). For the same reason, although Yanjing Palace played an important role right up until the establishment of diplomatic relations, supplying meals for China staff working in America later on.
But with Lin Ran’s appearance, and now so close to 1962, no one could guarantee Long Sifan’s reliability.
And what Lin Ran now had to give to China was the full 28 volumes of the MIT Radiation Laboratory Series, plus some radar design proposals provided by McNamara, which was far too sensitive.
Even if Long Sifan completed the task, he only needed one copy from each side, and Lin Ran couldn’t afford such a loss.
So Lin Ran had no choice but to find Chen Jingrun.
On Chen Jingrun’s side, the moment he heard the ring, his nerves had already begun to tense.
But the voice from the other end of the telephone not only didn’t relax him, but made him even more tense.
A professor visiting New York in the middle of the night could contain too much information.
The tip of the iceberg was a simple telephone call; the information beneath made his nerves tense from head to toe.
“Is the professor seeking help from me, or does he have some top secret information to hand over to me, or perhaps he wants to ask me to do something.
If he’s seeking help from me, what should I do, what can I do.
If he wants to ask me to do something, what would it be.”
From Randolph Building to his own office at CUNY, a road he had walked over a hundred times before, this time his heart was filled with apprehension and unease.
But upon seeing Lin Ran in pajamas, looking as if he had been waiting a long time, Chen Jingrun suddenly felt like he had found his backbone.
“Old place, starting three days from now, that is, from zero on April 1st, a book will be placed under the telephone booth every day. You go pick up the book, take photos, and put it back.
After putting it back, someone will place another one.
A total of 30 volumes, all very important.
Dehui, I know you have many questions, but don’t ask what you shouldn’t know. I’m leaving.”
After Lin Ran finished speaking, he stood up and left, not giving Chen Jingrun any chance to ask questions.
And the reason for three days later was also to give the China side a buffer time to prepare.
If starting from today, what if the China staff in America didn’t have equipment related to microfilm?
After all, China’s energy in America at this time was very weak.
California, Santa Rosa office, Larry King walked into the white supervisor’s office expressionless: “Supervisor, I’d like to take a month’s vacation.”
The task came very suddenly, sudden and extremely urgent.
The other party used the highest level method to transmit the information, requiring him to go to New York immediately and stay there for a month to receive further task arrangements.
This caught Larry King, who had been working for Yanjing for over ten years, somewhat off guard.
After the China side obtained the information transmitted by Lin Ran this time, they considered it extremely urgent and crucial.
After all, thirty consecutive days, thirty portions of information.
It was hard to imagine just how high the value of this information was.
Qian Xuesen and Hua Luogeng, who knew the inside story, were even guessing that it was further detailed information on alien technology.
Therefore, they had no choice but to activate Larry King.
At this time, Larry King, working at the Foreign Broadcast Intelligence Service, was simultaneously a translation expert, analyst, and records manager.
This last identity meant that Larry King could access a large amount of microfilm and related photography equipment.
If there was a choice, China wouldn’t want to activate the other party.
Because running from California to New York, taking a whole month off.
Although it was all domestic in America, it wouldn’t trigger internal security review.
Federal employees, based on Larry King’s years of service, had about 20 days of paid annual leave, plus sick leave of about 13 days, so taking a month consecutively was no problem.
But this task was still very sudden, carrying a hint of mystery.
For Larry King, who usually transmitted information via dead drop box or encrypted communication, he felt a very strong abnormality.
The white supervisor nodded: “No problem, how long do you want to take?”
Larry King said: “One month.”
The white supervisor was somewhat surprised: “King, you know, we’re intensively following information on China right now; they’ve entered the critical phase of atomic bomb research and development. A month at this time is a bit too long.
IBM people are coming next week.”
(Due to certain special reasons, the development timeline for the two bombs and one satellite cannot be advanced or involved.)
“Sorry, since last year, my nerves have been constantly tense, and my mental state has been particularly poor.
Yesterday when driving back, I even drove the car to the side of the road; my car had to be sent for repairs.
I want to check my mental issues; I’ve made an appointment with a psychiatrist at Columbia University Medical Center. I want to go to New York and rest properly for a while.
It just so happens I can go see the Technology Ark from IBM.”
Larry King barely pulled up the corners of his mouth, smiled, looking as if he would collapse if not given leave.
Intelligence analysis work has high pressure; without finding other excuses, mental exhaustion is the best reason.
During vacation, casually attending Broadway shows or visiting the Metropolitan Museum is a common activity for educated middle-class people.
Upon hearing Larry King was going to New York, the other party’s nerves immediately relaxed.
“Remember to hand over your current work properly. After this busy period, I want to go to New York too.” The white supervisor said.
The Technology Ark had already replaced Broadway as New York’s new check-in spot.
Especially for people in their line of work involving translation.
They belonged to the East Asia Affairs Division and had recently been assigned a new task: to liaise with Babylon Project staff and conduct preliminary research on English-Chinese translation machines.
Obviously, this was much more difficult than English-Russian translation.
Two days later, Larry King appeared on the streets of New York.
The play had to be done thoroughly.
He applied for 30 days of vacation on the grounds of “excessive mental stress.”
Larry King had an appointment with Lawrence Kub, director of psychiatry at Columbia University, who was also a senior member of the Presbytery.
The consulting room door was gently knocked, and Larry King pushed the door open, carrying a black briefcase, wearing a dark gray suit with his tie slightly loose, his face tired but eyes alert. He nodded slightly, greeting Kub who was sitting behind the desk.
He briefly glanced around; the consulting room had soft lighting, with a pen and notebook on the desk, and a certificate from the Psychoanalytic Society on the wall.
Kub looked up, took off his glasses, and smiled: “Hello, Mr. King, please sit. I’m Lawrence Kub. The appointment form says you’re from California? Was the trip smooth?”
After sitting in the walnut chair, Larry King’s hands on his knees gently clenched into fists, his tone steady but with slight hesitation: “Thank you, Doctor Kub. The trip was fine; the airplane was a bit bumpy.
Um, just, yeah, I’ve been feeling off lately, so I came to see you.”
“No problem, we’ll talk slowly. You mentioned some sleep and stress issues in the appointment; could you elaborate? What makes you feel off?” Kub picked up the pen, recorded in the notebook, and said in a gentle tone.
Larry King lowered his head, rubbed his temples, with exhaustion emanating from his whole body, “Mainly can’t sleep well, Doctor. At night my mind keeps thinking about things, tossing and turning, maybe not falling asleep until two or three. Sometimes I feel a bit anxious, work stuff, family trivialities, pressing down so I can’t breathe.”
After speaking, Larry King paused for a moment, looked up at Kub, his eyes seemingly observing the other, “I heard you’re very professional in this area, so I came specially from California.”
Kub’s gaze focused, tone calm: “Mm, insomnia and anxiety are very common, especially in high-pressure environments. Your work sounds busy; what do you do? No need to be too specific, just roughly, it might help me understand your stress sources.”
Larry King smiled slowly: “I’m in a government department, um, the broadcast intelligence side, mainly translating and analyzing documents. The work requires constant focus on details; my mind can’t stop. Maybe I’m too meticulous, always worried about missing something.”
“That’s normal, Mr. King. Work requiring such high concentration does tend to keep nerves tense. You mentioned family matters; is there something specific bothering you? Like relationships with your wife or children?” Kub recorded while encouraging.
Larry King’s eyes softened instantly, putting on a thoughtful expression: “Family is fine; my wife is very supportive, kids are obedient. I grew up in Yanjing; my parents are still there, less contact, always feels a bit empty inside. Maybe I’ve been thinking too much lately, can’t sleep at night. Sometimes I wonder if I’m too sensitive.”
Kub: “That’s not sensitivity, Mr. Chin. Immigrant life can make one feel unrooted, especially at your age, when memories and sense of responsibility weigh heavier. Have you tried any methods to relieve it? Like exercise, or keeping a diary?”
Larry King shook his head: “Tried exercise, walking is okay, but not much effect. Diary… I’m not used to writing; afraid it would make things messier if written down. Doctor, do you think my condition is serious? Need medication, or other ways? I plan to stay in New York a while longer, come see you regularly.”
Kub smiled: “No need to rush to conclusions yet, Mr. Chin. Your symptoms sound like mild anxiety, possibly related to work stress and homesickness. I suggest we meet once a week first, talk about your feelings, try some relaxation techniques, like progressive muscle relaxation. If needed, I might recommend low-dose sedatives, but observe first.”
Then Kub flipped open the calendar: “You said you’re staying a month; living nearby?”
Larry King nodded, tone natural: “Yes, I rented a small apartment in Washington Heights, about ten minutes’ walk from here. Want to rest properly here, walk around, relax. I hear New York has been lively lately; maybe it helps relieve my mental fatigue.”
Kub’s tone approving: “Good, New York is indeed a place to change one’s mood. Washington Heights is quiet here, close to the Hudson River, good for walks.
Especially with that Deep Blue thing the professor came up with recently, New York has gained a lot more tourists out of nowhere. Many of my classmates and old friends have been asking me when they can book the IBM Technology Ark.”
Mentioning the Technology Ark, Kub seemed a bit helpless; as a New York local, he still hadn’t been even once up to today, showing how popular it was.
Upon hearing this, Larry King said: “Yes, the Technology Ark is very hot in the news. As fellow Chinese descent, the professor truly is our light of the Chinese. An important purpose of my trip is also to see the Technology Ark.”
Kub recorded in the notebook: “Looking forward to you telling me about your Technology Ark experiences next time. So let’s schedule, next Tuesday at 3 PM for follow-up? In the meantime, try fixed-time walks daily, avoid coffee or thinking about work before bed. If any emergencies, contact my office anytime.”
Larry King stood up, shook hands gratefully: “Thank you, Doctor Kub. I’ll try your suggestions. See you next Tuesday.”
As Larry King turned to leave, apart from his posture still tense, a flash of calmness in his expression showed no sign of mental exhaustion.
But soon, his spirit would indeed become exhausted.
em There’s still one more 6k chapter, don’t rush me, wuwuwu, vote for the monthly ticket
