Mai Jia - Decoded

If we were to talk about the time before he cracked PURPLE, then the image of Rong Jinzhen in my mind would have been hazy, unclear — wavering between him being a genius and him being insane. But after he deciphered PURPLE, the image came into focus: it was graceful and yet terrifying, like a tiger silently waiting to pounce. To tell you the truth, I admired him and respected him, but I never wished to get too close to him. I was afraid that I would be scalded by him; I was fearful of him, just as you would be while watching a tiger hunting. I daresay his spirit was that of a tiger. He tore apart problems as a tiger would relish gnawing meat off the bones of a recent kill: there was an animal ferocity in him, a calculated approach — again like a tiger that stalks its prey, waiting for the precise moment at which to pounce.

A tiger!

Lord of animals!

Lord of cryptography!

To tell you the truth, although I was much older than him and was considered an old hand in the Intelligence Service (indeed, by the time he arrived I was already a section chief), in my heart, I looked on him as my senior. No matter what the trouble was, I would ask him about it. The more I understood him, the more I got close to him, the more I became a slave to his intelligence, his presence; I would kneel down before him and have no regrets about doing so. .

. . As I’ve already mentioned, the world of cryptography does not allow for the appearance of similar ciphers — such an event would result in them becoming rubbish. Consequently, the world of cryptography has an unwritten rule, practically an iron-clad law: an individual can either create ciphers or crack them. Because Rong Jinzhen possessed the ability to create and destroy ciphers, he was enraptured by his own mind. However, such rapture was tantamount to discarding it, to losing it, to going completely mad. In principle, Rong Jinzhen should not have assumed responsibility for deciphering BLACK. His mind already belonged to PURPLE. Such a task should be his only if he was able to re-forge the inevitable fragmentation of his mind.

But for Rong Jinzhen, for that kind of person, we didn’t really believe that there were rules that applied. Rather, we trusted in his talent. To put it another way, we had faith in his ability to rebuild his mind — we believed that for him, this was not impossible. We might not believe in ourselves, we might not believe in the impartiality of rules, but there was no way that we could refuse to believe in Rong Jinzhen. For us, his very being was built upon those things that we believed to be impossible: he made those things real; made them part of reality itself. It was in this fashion that the great burden of cracking BLACK came to fall on his shoulders.

This necessitated his return to the forbidden zone.

But unlike the first time, this time he was forced by someone else — and also by his own illustrious reputation — into the forbidden zone. It was totally unlike the situation with PURPLE. There he penetrated deep into the historical woods of cryptography; of his own initiative he stormed into this forbidden area. But one man cannot be too outstanding. Once you are too apart from your fellows, you discover that your glorious reputation is no support. In fact, it is the reverse: it brings your own destruction ever closer.

I never probed into Rong Jinzhen’s frame of mind once he took on the responsibility for deciphering BLACK, but the suffering he endured as a result was unfair — that I saw clearly. If we were to talk of how he cracked PURPLE, then I could say that it was not terribly stressful for him: he was at ease going into battle; he arrived at work on time and left when the work day was over. Those around him remarked that it seemed as though it were all a game to him. But when it came to BLACK, well, his former light-heartedness had completely disappeared. The weight pressing down upon him was enormous, bowing him over. During the time he spent on BLACK, I saw at first-hand how Rong Jinzhen’s jet-black hair began to go grey, how his stature began to shrink: it was as though the situation had forced him into the labyrinth of BLACK; a labyrinth he couldn’t escape from. As you can imagine, BLACK carried Rong Jinzhen along with it, into its deeper realms — he was obsessed with tearing it apart, as well as about smashing his own mind to pieces. The torment and pain were like the two hands of the devil pressing down upon his shoulders. This man who had originally had no connection to BLACK (because he had cracked PURPLE), now endured the full weight of it: it was his shame, his sorrow, and even the pain and sorrow of the Unit itself. To speak frankly, I never doubted Rong Jinzhen’s talent and diligence, but as to whether or not he could pull another miracle out of his hat, to decipher BLACK, to overthrow the iron-clad law of the world of cryptography, I couldn’t say that I had no misgivings. I believe a genius is still a man, a man who can become confused, a man who can make mistakes; but should a man of this sort commit an error then that error must be colossal, must be shocking. In truth, in the world of cryptography there is unanimous agreement that BLACK was not some high-level cipher of exceptional rigorousness and importance. Indeed, the means by which it was cracked were shocking to everyone by their simplicity. For that reason, not long after Rong Jinzhen’s mental collapse, BLACK was quickly dispatched. In terms of talent, these cryptographers simply didn’t compare to Rong Jinzhen, but once the task had been undertaken, it was just like when Rong Jinzhen had cracked PURPLE: it took only three months and they did it in a completely relaxed fashion. .

[To be continued]

Did you hear? Someone deciphered BLACK!

Who?

Was he (or she) still alive? Director Zheng told me his name: Yan Shi. What is more, he told me that he was indeed still alive. He suggested that I go and interview him, and once the interview was over, come and see him again; apparently, Director Zheng had additional information to give me. Two days later, I met with Director Zheng again and the first words out of his mouth were a question: ‘So, what do you think of that old bastard?’ He was referring to Yan Shi, the man responsible for deciphering BLACK. His wording left me speechless for a moment.

‘Don’t be offended,’ he went on. ‘In truth, no one around here cares much for Yan Shi.’

‘Why?’ I asked, feeling that this was rather odd.

‘Because he has got so much out of it: too much, in fact.’

‘But he cracked BLACK — doesn’t he deserve to be rewarded?’

‘But everyone believes that his accomplishment was only possible because he had Rong Jinzhen’s notebook to work from; that his inspiration came solely from the work already carried out by Rong Jinzhen.’

‘That’s true; he admitted that to me,’ I said.

‘Really? No way — he would never have said that.’

‘Eh? I heard it with my own ears.’

‘What did he say, then?’ Director Zheng asked.

‘He told me that actually it was Rong Jinzhen who deciphered BLACK; that his own reputation was underserved.’

‘Oh, this is big news.’ He stared at me in surprise. ‘Previously he always skirted round the issue of Rong Jinzhen, evaded questions about how he figured out how to decipher BLACK. How is it that he didn’t with you? Hmm. . perhaps it’s because you are not a member of this organization, you’re somebody on the outside. I wonder.’ Director Zheng paused for a moment and then continued, ‘He never before so much as mentioned Rong Jinzhen, purposefully pushing him aside, trying to create the impression that he was entirely responsible for deciphering BLACK. But how could that have been possible? We’ve all been here together for such a long time, who doesn’t know who? Yet it seemed as though he had changed into a genius overnight; now tell me, who could believe that? No one, that’s who! As we saw him hog all of the glory for cracking BLACK, we really couldn’t accept it. There was so much gossip and complaint — we all felt outraged by the injustice done to Rong Jinzhen.’