RPAGF Chapter 180 Sharp Blade Drawn
Chapter 180 Sharp Blade Drawn
Early July 1989.
Large-Scale Computing Center, Faculty of Science, University of Tokyo.
The Hongo campus, quiet in the dead of night, is devoid of the daytime academic hustle and bustle. Rainwater washes over the red brick walls of the Yasuda Auditorium, flowing into underground drains through the pipes.
Behind the heavy, explosion-proof steel door, the temperature-controlled air conditioning system was operating at maximum power. The air was filled with a faint ozone odor emitted by the high-heat electronic components.
Four people were standing in front of the portable blackboard in the center of the computer room.
Jun Murai held a piece of chalk in his hand, his knuckles covered in white powder. Three doctoral students involved in the core architecture development of the WIDE project stood around him, each holding a thick sheet of data printing paper.
The whiteboard was covered with complex network topology diagrams and routing protocol interaction logic.
"The packet loss rate on the wide area network still cannot be reduced below the safe threshold." A disheveled doctoral student pointed to a node on the topology diagram. "There is a physical delay between the confirmation mechanism of the TCP three-way handshake handled by the Hitachi mainframe and the response time of the edge nodes. Increasing the number of retransmissions will exacerbate channel congestion."
Jun Murai stared at the formulas, his brow furrowed.
"The redundancy checks in the underlying protocol stack need to be streamlined. I think... we need to perform hardware-level preprocessing at the hardware interface to relieve some of the pressure from software verification."
In this room, which represented the highest level of computer technology in Japan, the discussions touched upon the most cutting-edge barriers to global network interconnection at the time.
A few meters away, next to the lab bench, a desk lamp was lit to protect the eyes.
Amy Suzuki sat on an anti-static high stool. She wore a white lab coat with the emblem of the Faculty of Science of the University of Tokyo, and thin-rimmed silver-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. In her hand, she held a high-precision soldering iron.
"Sizzle—"
As the soldering iron tip touched the solder wire, a wisp of smoke rose straight up and was instantly sucked away by the exhaust fan at the top.
Amy precisely soldered a custom-made ASIC chip onto the green expansion board. She put down the soldering iron and picked up a magnifying glass to inspect the solder joints.
She turned her chair around to face the discussion group in front of the whiteboard.
"Professor Murai."
Amy's voice was calm; years of immersion in the world of data had made her increasingly mature.
"If the goal is to reduce the burden of software verification, we can utilize this hardware gateway board with newly written microinstructions."
She held up the green circuit board that was still warm to the touch.
"I added a hardware buffer queue between the MAC layer and the IP layer. This allows the board to handle the checksum calculation. The host CPU only needs to process the payload data and doesn't need to waste clock cycles calculating the header."
The doctoral students stopped their discussion and focused their attention on the small circuit board.
One of them quickly walked over, took the circuit board, and carefully examined the traces and chip pin definitions.
"Using hardware interrupts to intercept data packets..." The doctoral student adjusted his glasses, his eyes revealing admiration. "The logical loop is very complete. This can save at least 15% of CPU overhead. Researcher Suzuki's hardware architecture capabilities are as precise as ever."
Junya Murai stepped forward and glanced at the compiled code that was running on Amy's terminal screen.
"Tomorrow, connect this board to the master node for stress testing." Jun Murai tossed a piece of chalk onto the table with a crisp sound. "The integration of the hardware and the underlying code will be handled by Suzuki. Everyone, prepare for the next phase of the project."
The team members dispersed and returned to their workstations.
In this top-notch laboratory filled with male hormones and tedious data, no one felt Amy's presence was out of place. Through eight months of relentless, round-the-clock work, she earned everyone's respect and admiration through her almost brutal focus and solid knowledge spanning both hardware and software.
Other doctoral students might occasionally have a beer at an izakaya late at night, or flip through a few pages of comic books in the lounge.
Amy gave up all entertainment and refused all social invitations.
Although she didn't heed Jun Murai's advice to wear something cheaper, and instead wore the custom-made white lab coat from S-Collection, only with the addition of the University of Tokyo's Faculty of Science emblem, she looked like an idle rich girl who had come to the lab to gild her resume.
But for the past eight months, she has spent half her time sleeping next to the server rack. Dozens of thick English original technical manuals have been read from pristine to worn and curled. Canned coffee and convenience store rice balls have become the only fuel to keep her body running.
Social interaction, entertainment, and even the most basic sleep have all been forcibly reduced to the minimum necessary for survival.
Her already formidable talents in both physical and mental aspects, which already pushed the limits of human logic, erupted with a chilling brilliance under this almost ascetic-like extreme pressure.
We can't stop.
It must become more useful.
You must prove that you are qualified to stand next to that person.
She is an indispensable cog in the machine, and also the sharpest technical blade in the team.
"Click".
Just then, a voice came.
At the explosion-proof steel door at the end of the computer room, the indicator light on the electronic lock changed from red to green.
The heavy metal door hinge turned slowly.
The cool air from the corridor flowed back into the server room, cutting through the stale air. A delicate lily of the valley scent wafted in the breeze.
The doctoral students subconsciously looked up, their eyes fixed on the entrance.
Fujita Tsuyoshi, dressed in a sharp black suit, walked ahead like a wall.
He stepped aside.
Saionji Satsuki stepped into the computer room.
She was wearing the off-white trench coat she had recently taken a liking to. The spotless fabric and the crisp echo of her high heels on the anti-static floor instantly shattered the laboratory's tranquility.
The air seemed to freeze slightly at the arrival of this uninvited guest.
Amy stopped typing.
She smelled that familiar fragrance.
What... what is this?
She could hardly believe her nose and turned her head sharply.
Her gaze slowly focused, and in her eyes was reflected the figure she had longed for day and night.
It's her... it really is Satsuki-chan...
She tried to get up, but found that she was too excited to use her legs. She, who had remained unfazed by countless failed model attempts, now felt so wronged she wanted to cry.
I want to get closer... I want to hug you...
That familiar smell was right before my eyes.
A shadow was cast on the monitor in front of Amy, obscuring part of the green code on the screen.
She didn't speak, but extended her gloved right hand and gently ran her fingertips through Amy's slightly messy short hair.
"Thanks for your hard work."
The cold, clear voice echoed through the server room.
Amy bit her lower lip hard. The slightly salty, rusty taste filled her mouth, and with the stinging pain, she forcibly suppressed the tears welling up in her eyes. She removed her hands from her slightly weak knees and gripped the edge of the stainless steel workbench tightly.
Her chest heaved violently. She took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the surging emotions within her.
"Welcome back. Did your trip to Europe go well?"
His voice still had a noticeable nasal tone and a slight tremor, but he managed to maintain a steady tone.
You need to be more restrained in front of everyone...
"I brought back some interesting local specialties."
Satsuki withdrew her hand, her gaze sweeping across the server room before finally settling on Amy's still tired face.
"Your seclusion is over. Pack your things."
Amy paused, still gripping the edge of the table. "Huh? But what about Professor Murai..."
"I've already spoken to the Faculty of Science at the University of Tokyo. You'll retain your status as a special researcher, allowing you to access the supercomputing port here at any time and continue participating in the program. But your body is now under my control."
Satsuki turned and walked towards the door.
"Bring your brain and come with me. There are a few old fogies who need you to teach them a lesson."
Faced with this almost coercive order that completely disregarded Amy's arrangements, Amy not only did not feel disgusted, but her face even became a little rosy.
Yes... Satsuki-chan hasn't forgotten me... I belong to Satsuki-chan...
She quickly took off her special white lab coat, draped it over the back of the chair, unplugged the encrypted hard drive from the workbench, and jogged to catch up with Satsuki.
The explosion-proof steel door slowly closed.
The monotonous roar of exhaust fans returned to the computer room.
The doctoral students were completely bewildered, wondering who this person was who had managed to take away their lab's star talent with just a few words.
But since no one stopped them, and researcher Suzuki went along voluntarily, then there shouldn't be a big problem, right?
They shrugged and went back to their work.
……
One hour later.
Headquarters of Saionji Industrial Co., Ltd., Marunouchi, Tokyo.
Four underground floors.
The elevator car continued its descent, accompanied by a slight feeling of weightlessness. The digital indicator light remained at the "-4" position.
The metal car doors slid open to both sides.
The airtight door pressure relief valve made a hissing sound as it released air.
Suddenly, the view opened up.
The highest level of security "black box laboratory" is now in sight.
The constant temperature and humidity system maintains a harsh industrial environment, with the temperature locked at 22 degrees Celsius and the humidity at 45%. A dense matrix of shadowless lights on the ceiling illuminates the entire space with crystal clarity.
Several state-of-the-art electron microscopes, spectrometers, and parallel computing terminals, urgently transported from the United States, were neatly arranged on an anti-static workbench. Thick, black power cords snaked beneath the raised floor like a herd of snakes.
Dr. Klaus Weber, dressed in a gray dust suit, stood before the control panel. His two students, Dieter and Frank, were conducting a voltage test on a high-precision sensor made in Japan.
Hearing footsteps, Weber turned around.
The old-school East German scientist, who had survived a life-or-death escape, nodded slightly.
"Miss Saionji." German echoed in the empty laboratory.
"Dr. Weber, is the equipment working well?"
Satsuki stopped in front of the control panel.
Fujita stepped forward and placed the heavy, metallic-looking lead foil cylinder that he had been carrying steadily on the metal table.
"Thump."
The metallic clanging produced a dull thud, causing the nearby screwdriver to vibrate.
“Of course, my lady. The equipment here is a whole generation more advanced than the Jena factory.” Weber stared at the flashing indicator lights, his cloudy eyes gleaming with an uncontrollable technological fervor. “God knows what kind of lives we were living before…”
Satsuki didn't continue to make Waver "reminisce about the past," and slightly turned to let Amy behind her move to the front.
"Let me introduce you. This is Emi Suzuki, Chief Technology Advisor of the Saionji Group. She will be responsible for the digital modeling and computing integration of the entire optical system."
Webber was interrupted as his gaze fell on Amy.
An excessively young Japanese girl stood in front.
A flicker of instinctive doubt crossed the eyes of the old East German scholar. Entrusting a cutting-edge project, crucial to the nation's industrial lifeline, to a young woman was a complete upheaval in his understanding.
Amy ignored the scrutinizing gaze.
Here, apart from Satsuki, no one can evoke any emotional response from her.
They've already been intimate in the car; now it's time for the calm and collected Amy to take the stage.
She stepped forward, put on anti-static gloves, skillfully unscrewed the lead tube, and took out the microfiber roll.
The item, wrapped in layers of waterproof paper, was pulled out. Several rolls of microfilm and a stack of drawings densely covered with German text and physical parameters lay scattered under the table lamp.
The blinding incandescent light pierced through the translucent microfilm. The incredibly complex optical refraction paths were stretched by the light, densely reflected onto Amy's silver-rimmed glasses.
Tiny spots of light danced on the mirror's surface.
Her pupils followed the rapidly rotating intertwined lines. Her once steady breath was caught in her throat, and her fingertips unconsciously tapped on the stainless steel tabletop.
"Da da, da da da..."
The soft, clattering sound of fingernails hitting metal mingled with the low-frequency exhaust noise from the laboratory's constant-temperature system.
"Dr. Weber. The refraction of light in the extreme ultraviolet (EUV) band will generate an extremely high thermal load on the lens surface."
As Amy loaded the film roll into the feed slot of the high-resolution scanner, she rattled off the key parameters in fluent English.
"In your design, what is the thermal distortion redundancy allowance for thickness tolerance compensation of the multilayer molybdenum-silicon reflective film under continuous wavelength bombardment?"
Weber paused for a moment.
Dieter and Frank also stopped their testing.
No pleasantries or formalities were exchanged. The questions went straight to the most technical and complex areas.
"The redundancy is set at 0.2 nanometers." Weber quickly adjusted his demeanor, his tone becoming extremely serious. "We adopted a dynamic thermal compensation fluid model."
"not enough."
Amy typed on the keyboard, bringing up the first optical path map that had just been scanned.
"In actual production, the standing wave effect on the wafer surface can lead to uneven heat distribution. A redundancy of 0.2 nanometers can cause focus drift. We need to recalculate the curvature parameters of the lens to compress the thermal distortion tolerance to the picometer level."
Weber strode to the screen and stared at the magnified lines. His two students also gathered around.
The limits of analog physics in the old era and the pinnacle of digital computing power in the new era have been seamlessly integrated into this black box buried deep underground, completing a cross-generational stitching.
The scanner emitted a faint green light, scanning the microfilm roll line by line.
"Regarding the calculation of the aspheric coefficients of the fourth set of projection mirrors..."
"Please import these variables into the ray tracing matrix for me, and set the mesh density to..."
"The reflectance attenuation value of the underlying molybdenum-silicon multilayer film needs to be re-established in three-dimensional coordinates..."
"..."
The obscure physics terms intertwined with computer instructions, gradually transforming into a continuous background noise along with the slight mechanical hum of the scanner.
Satsuki took two steps back.
She did not participate in any specific technical debates.
Specialized tasks should be handled by specialized people. She doesn't understand these things, so it's best to leave them to someone who does.
She walked to the one-way glass wall on the side of the laboratory. The low hum of the ventilation ducts masked the heated discussion among the group. A pale green light shone on the glass, creating alternating shadows that reflected the slightly upturned corners of her mouth.
This knife has finally been honed to its sharpest edge.