Chapter 431 South American Fulcrum

When Yang Xiaobing pushed open the door, He Yuzhu was staring at the test report that Galaxy Six had just finished running. Thirty quadrillion times, the numbers printed on the paper were cold and impersonal, but in his mind he could hear the roar of the cooling fans in the rows of server racks in the underground computer room.

"Director He, we have news from Lin Zhenbang. His brother's residency permit has been approved, and the Portuguese authorities have stamped it." Yang Xiaobing stood at the table, not sitting down, holding an opened international mail in his hand.

He Yuzhu put down the report and looked up at him. "What does he want?"

"We want to establish a framework before the interview. He has a vacant office building in São Paulo, Brazil, which he is willing to provide free of charge for us to use as a representative office."

Old Sun came in through the door, carrying an enamel mug with tea leaves clinging to its sides. He didn't knock, but went straight to the sofa, sat down, and placed the mug on the coffee table with a muffled thud. He glanced at Yang Xiaobing, then at He Yuzhu.

"That Mr. Lin, you trust him? His brother's case took more than half a year to resolve. He can't even handle his own family affairs. How can you expect him to help you build an intelligence network?"

Yang Xiaobing placed the email on the table and took a step back. He Yuzhu didn't touch the letter; he leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers twice on the armrest.

"Old Sun, Pu Zheng lived in Brazil for several years, residing in Lin Zhenbang's estate. Lin Zhenbang could have chosen to cooperate with him or to hand him over to us. He chose the middle path—renting out the estate and collecting rent, thus avoiding offending either side. This man doesn't take sides, but he's after money. Using him is costly, but safe."

Old Sun pulled a cigarette from his pocket, didn't light it, and twirled it between his fingers twice. "People who only care about money, today they'll care about our money, tomorrow they'll care about Taiwanese money, American money. What guarantees they won't turn against you?"

"No guarantee." He Yuzhu stood up, walked to the window, and pulled back the curtains a crack. The sky outside was overcast, the branches of the sycamore trees in the courtyard were bare, and a few sparrows hopped on the concrete ground. "So we can't put all our eggs in one basket. The representative office is just a formality; we need to send our own people there, and build our own connections. Lin Zhenbang is just a guide; once he's shown the way, he's no longer in the inner circle."

Old Sun put a cigarette in his mouth, but didn't light it, and mumbled something. He Yuzhu didn't hear him clearly, nor did he ask.

Yang Xiaobing pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and on it was a hand-drawn organizational chart, the lines crooked and uneven. "Director He, I've decided on the candidate. Zhou Zhiyuan, twenty-six years old, from Guangdong, his father owns a restaurant in Argentina. He speaks Spanish and Portuguese, and has three years of reconnaissance experience in the special forces."

"Zhou Zhiyuan?" He Yuzhu took the paper. The handwriting on it was a mess, and it took a lot of effort to recognize a few keywords.

"He went to Argentina when he was twelve and returned to China to join the army when he was twenty. He just retired last year." Yang Xiaobing paused, "Director He, this kid has a special characteristic—he can extract information from people in the market while haggling over prices, and the other person won't even realize they let something slip."

He Yuzhu put the paper back on the table. "Tell him to come see me tomorrow morning."

Yang Xiaobing nodded, turned and went out. Reaching the door, he glanced back at Old Sun, who was bent over, trying to light a cigarette, the lighter taking three tries to ignite.

The next morning, Zhou Zhiyuan stood at the office door. He was wearing a faded military uniform, without collar insignia, and the fabric on his shoulders was frayed. His skin was tanned dark, and he was not tall; standing in the doorway, he looked like a stake driven into the ground.

He Yuzhu pointed to the chair opposite him. "Sit."

Zhou Zhiyuan didn't sit down. He stood in front of the table, his back ramrod straight, his eyes fixed on the wall behind He Yuzhu, his pupils reflecting the grayish-white light from the window.

"You lived in Argentina for eight years?"

"Eight years and four months." Zhou Zhiyuan's voice wasn't loud, but he pronounced each word clearly, his Cantonese accent making "four" sound like "sai".

"Do you speak Portuguese?"

"I can speak, but I'm not very good at writing. My dad's shop has customers from Brazil, and I learned to write by talking to them."

He Yuzhu pulled a piece of paper from the drawer, on which were printed several lines of Portuguese. He pushed it towards him. "Read it to me."

Zhou Zhiyuan glanced down at it and read it aloud. He spoke slowly, swallowing each word as if it were coming out of his throat, like a local. After he finished, he looked up, his lips twitching slightly, but it wasn't exactly a smile.

"Director He, this sign says 'China Council for the Promotion of International Trade Representative Office in Brazil.' Is this sign real or fake?"

"It's true. You're a staff member of this representative office. Officially, you're in charge of trade promotion, but what are you actually doing? Yang Xiaobing has discussed this with you, hasn't he?"

"We've talked about it." Zhou Zhiyuan paused, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Director He, there's something I'd like to clarify beforehand."

"explain."

"My dad is in Argentina, not Brazil. I went to Brazil to be closer to him, but we can't see each other often. If he asks me what I'm doing..." Zhou Zhiyuan paused here, his lips pressed into a thin line.

He Yuzhu looked at him. He remained silent for three seconds.

"Tell your dad that you work for an import/export company, doing business in Latin America."

Zhou Zhiyuan nodded and said nothing more. He stood there for a while, turned to leave, then turned back.

"Director He, Team Leader Yang said I should go to the language institute for three months of further study."

"Yes. You need to pass the Portuguese test. You'll be staying at the academy for the next three months; Yang Xiaobing will arrange other courses for you." He Yuzhu opened a drawer, took out a Portuguese-Chinese dictionary, and pushed it over. "Take this with you."

Zhou Zhiyuan took the dictionary, opened the cover, and found a folded piece of paper tucked inside. He glanced at it; it contained a few lines of handwritten text by He Yuzhu—the names and addresses of several Chinese community organizations in São Paulo.

"When you get there, just take a look around. You don't need to do anything, just look around," He Yuzhu said.

Zhou Zhiyuan closed the dictionary, tucked it under his arm, and gave a military salute. He Yuzhu returned the salute. Zhou Zhiyuan turned and walked away, his military boots clicking on the terrazzo floor, the sound of his footsteps fading into the distance and disappearing at the end of the corridor.

He Yuzhu sat back down in his chair and picked up the test report for Galaxy-6 again. Thirty quadrillion simulations—the electricity cost for one hour of full-speed operation would be enough for an average family for three years. Lin Jianguo added a note at the end of the report: "Full-scale curvature simulation is expected to be completed within two weeks, at which time the amplitude of disturbances can be accurately predicted."

He put down the report, opened the system space, and stored Zhou Zhiyuan's list, Lin Zhenbang's email copy, and Yang Xiaobing's organizational chart. Before closing the interface, he glanced at his points—295 million. The number looked good, but he couldn't spend it.

The phone on the table rang. He picked up the receiver.

"Dean He, this is Lin Jianguo." The voice on the other end of the phone was filled with barely suppressed excitement. "You need to come down and take a look. Galaxy Six has completed a new set of data."

He Yuzhu hung up the phone and walked out of the office. The elevator went down to the second basement level, and as soon as the doors opened, a wave of heat hit him. The server room at the end of the corridor was lit up, and through the glass door, he could see Lin Jianguo standing in front of the control panel, holding a stack of printing papers.

He pushed open the door and went in; the noise of the fan instantly enveloped his entire body, like entering a giant beehive.

Lin Jianguo handed over the stack of papers. "The first batch of results from the full-scale curvature simulation. The predicted amplitude of spatial perturbation has improved from 0.05% to 0.07%, which is 40% higher than our previous calculation. If the 30 Tesla power-on test can verify this value, curvature drive will transform from a physical phenomenon into an engineeringable technology."

He Yuzhu took the stack of papers and flipped through them page by page. The curves on the charts were steeper and the peaks were higher than in the previous simulations. He returned the papers to Lin Jianguo.

When can the 30 Tesla test be conducted?

"Qian Zhiyuan said that the superconducting quantum interference device has been installed, vibration isolation pads have been added, and it can be powered on at any time. But he wants to measure the modes again, fearing that the electromagnetic force of thirty Tesla will damage the sensor."

"Let him measure it. Arrange for the power to be turned on immediately after the measurement." He Yuzhu turned to leave, then stopped. "Lin Jianguo, print a few more copies of that full-size simulation report. I need to take one with me."

Lin Jianguo pulled three bound reports from the drawer and handed them over. He Yuzhu took them, tucked them under his arm, and walked out of the computer room. The motion-activated lights in the corridor turned on, and footsteps echoed in the empty underground space, one after another, like some kind of ancient timer.