Andemeng smiled with his eyes closed, and suddenly got out of the car at the other end, walked around the car and walked towards me. Before I could react, he pushed me against the car window.
"Butt it," he said.
Because the weather is a bit hot, the top two buttons of my shirt are unbuttoned and the neckline is open. I was stunned for a moment, disdainful: "I have a good figure, and I am willing to let the beauties on the side of the road look at me more."
He bent his eyes and smiled again, without saying anything, his left hand suddenly pressed hard on my chest, and his right hand helped me to fasten the button forcibly. The whole process took an instant and I couldn't move at all.
Later I asked him how he did it, and he was very casual: "MI6 is an intelligence agency, and fighting skills must be learned."
Andemon let go of me, thoughtfully: "Maybe we can try to fall in love for a while."
Edgar pointed out to me: "Alan, you've been in a trance these days. You can laugh at a telephone pole for half an hour."
I told him in an ethereal voice that I went to Andermeng to change my grades, and he promised to try dating me. The matter of Plimpton Park is omitted.
"We date twice a month in London, and he came to pick me up in his car. He said he doesn't dislike men, how do you know if you're suitable for each other if you don't try it?"
Edgar was painting at the time and I posed for him. The young man on the canvas is tall and tall, with bright eyes, sitting in the shade of a tree, reading a thick book in the breeze.
"My hair is dark brown, not light blond. There's no way the wind can blow them into such a nice effect. And I've never had such blue eyes, mine are grey-blue." I protested, "You didn't paint at all Show my flower|flower|gong|zi characteristics."
Edgar said: "I think this is very strange, Alan, you'd better stay away from Andymond."
He reminded me: "Homosexuality is against the law."
Andrew is very trustworthy. He comes to pick me up from Cambridgeshire twice a month. We walked through the bustling streets of London, went to restaurants and watched movies. The restaurant is always chosen by Andremon, and I tried French, German, and Italian in turn. I just ate, and he looked at me as if he was amused: "You don't resist kissing me."
Nonsense, wish for it.
"What about going to bed?"
I raised my eyebrows at him: "Honey, why don't we try?"
Andemont thought about it seriously for a moment, shook his head, and gently stirred the small silver spoon in the coffee cup, making a sound like a wind chime: "Alan, you are too young."
Occasionally he would talk to me about the current situation. Hitler preached the theory of racial superiority and inferiority, and crazily suppressed and excluded Jews in his country. The Nazis were crazy. The Soviet Union coveted Poland, and Italy began to move toward dictatorship. The world, says Andrew, is heading for war.
He tilted his head slightly as he spoke, as if gazing far away outside the restaurant. I followed his gaze and saw only long clouds at the end of the gray-blue sky.
He will also talk about passwords.
Ciphers have been in widespread use since the World War two decades ago. In war, radio waves can connect ground troops, air planes, sea ships and underwater submarines into a unified whole. Important military information is often transmitted in the form of radio waves.
However, the radio can not only be listened to by your own troops, but also by the enemy. There are listening stations all over the UK, and these radio codes will be sent directly to Andrew when they are received, waiting to be cracked. If we cracked the German codes on the radio, we would have a clear idea of what Hitler and the Nazis were up to.
I wasn't born before the last world war. By the time I was born it was over, the economy was slowly recovering, the population was growing, and towns and villages were gradually becoming more lively. Time will flow slowly in the books and Edgar's paintings. I miss my parents, but I don't feel sorry for myself. If it weren't for Andrew, I wouldn't know the crisis hidden under the appearance of prosperity. When everyone is optimistic about peace, Anderson draws the conclusion (which now appears to be correct) from the deciphered code that our world is heading for war.
"If the world is really going to war," he said, "what we can do is end it as soon as possible, and the sooner we win, the better."
I have to admit that Andrmond's date was perfect, but it drove me crazy to be followed by his lieutenant no matter where he was. His chauffeur-cum-adjutant was the same Peter who knocked me down in the church of King's College, Cambridgeshire. Peter always has a cold face. When you want to look at the scenery outside the window when you are eating, you will see him standing at the door of the hotel with his back straight; when you want to take the opportunity to touch Anderson's waist when you are driving, he will be expressionless. sudden sharp turn.
"My work is very important, and I have to go out without an adjutant." After complaining countless times, Andermeng said to me apologetically, "Unless you come to my house."
I know Andymond has a rank, but not what rank, because I haven't seen him in uniform. One day I went to ask Peter. He thought for a while and didn't answer me directly, just said: "I am Mr. Garcia's driver, and my military rank is captain."
We later dated at Anderson's mansion in downtown London. Peter picked me up in the car, took me to the gate, and then went back to Plimpton Manor by himself.
Anderson usually waits for me at the piano. His place is simpler than I imagined. Two-story detached building with a terrace and a back garden full of weeds. He lived alone, with only one old servant accompanying him, so the rooms seemed a little empty.
The living room is simply decorated, with a printed wool carpet on the wooden floor and a khaki sofa covered with a slipcover because few guests come. There are only a few famous oil paintings hanging on the walls. I later learned that the paintings were genuine.
Upstairs is the study and bedroom, and there is a large room next to it for the piano. The huge room was empty, only a black grand piano was placed near the window.
"You live in a very simple place." I looked around.
"This is a temporary place to live. My family's estates are in Newcastle and Darlington County. When the weather is nice in autumn, I can take you there to hunt." He explained with a smile.
I just found out that Anderson could play the piano. He always played the same piece of music over and over again, soft and mysterious, like a lover's whispered narration at night.
"This is Edward Elgar's Variations on the Enigma. The inventor of 'Mission' named the encryption machine after it. The possibility of decryption of 'Mission' is 3 times 10 to the power of 114, and we The number of atoms in the universe that can be observed is only 10 to the 79th power. Theoretically speaking, it cannot be cracked."
Anderson was always intoxicated when he played the piano, his eyes were slightly closed, and his eyelashes covered his eyelids. The melody flowed from his slender fingers, swirling in the large and empty room.
Andemon's entertainment at home is very simple, either playing the piano, or talking with me on the sofa, reading a book. Most of the time, he worked in the study until late at night, stacks of manuscript paper were stacked on the table, and ink was arranged in a long row.
I couldn't stand it anymore, so I tried to help him.
In addition to 'mystery', Germany has lower-level ciphers, and Italy also has documents that need to be cracked. Before these ciphertexts are deciphered, they are as meaningless as waste paper piled on the table.
Andrew gave me the code name S. This is a code in Germany that is not used very frequently but is very difficult to crack. There are only a few ciphertexts in hand, which are locked on the bottom floor of the safe.
There is such a fucking date. We each occupy a corner of the study, he calculates 'fan', and I study code S. We can hear the words rustling on the paper without saying a word for a long time. And I have to learn German, because the German code must be translated into plain text in German.
I read the words against the window of the study with a primer in German. My German is so bad that sometimes Andremen would stop writing and come over, hug me from behind and point out where I mispronounced. I turned around and kissed his face, and he didn't object.
Later, Andremon admitted that he just thought I was disturbing him, so he found the code name S to let me be quiet, and didn't expect me to be able to crack it at all.
The best decryption condition is to have plaintext and ciphertext, and an expired key is even better. And I only have cipher text. I've tried frequency analysis, I've tried countless classical cipher solutions, and I have no clue. I even used a popular German piano piece to decipher the ciphertext, because God knows what the cryptographer will hide the key in. One day I was chatting with Andremon, and he said that the most used code name S was the German weather forecasting system. For the safety of ships at sea, the German army regularly dispatched weather forecast cruise ships near the coast of Norway. It took a month or two for the ship to go to sea, during which the communication was through radio waves encrypted with the code name S.
"The content sent back should be quite simple." I said: "Weather conditions, humidity, wind direction...what else?"
Andmond thought for a while: "Not only is the content single, but also the reporting target is fixed."
He grabbed me: "Alan, what's wrong with you?!"
I quickly flipped through the ciphertext in my hand, carefully comparing and looking for each page. I grabbed Andmon's shoulder: "Are there any intercepted ciphertexts? The more the better!"
Inspiration always comes when you almost give up.
In fact, it is very simple. What I tried before was the letter frequency analysis method, that is, to find the letter with the highest frequency in German, and compare it with the encrypted text, trying to clarify the corresponding relationship.
In fact, I was wrong. It is not letters that need to be analyzed, but phrases.
I need to find out the most commonly used words in weather forecasts, such as "wind direction", "cloudy", "northern wind", etc., and compare them with the weather conditions on the coast of Norway in the month when the encrypted text was intercepted, and guess the meaning of the repeated phrases in the encrypted text.
The most important and certain thing is that Andemont said that the target of the weather ship's report is fixed, so the beginning of the cipher text is likely to have the title of the target.
The first sentence I deciphered was the phrase repeated three times at the beginning of the encrypted text:
Dear Colonel Leon
It took me three months to decipher code S. Andremon didn't allow me to take the cipher text back to Cambridge. Every time I went back, I would memorize a short section of the cipher text, then transcribe it into a notebook, and carry it with me to continue thinking.
Edgar said I had changed and lost weight.
When we used to spend time under the willow trees on the banks of the Cam River, he always set up the drawing board and drew sketches, and I was in charge of evaluating the faces and figures of the girls who passed by. Now I was lying on the floor looking at my notebook, and he started chatting with each other.
"Have you gotten into math lately?" he asked.
"No, I'm obsessed with Andrew." I said, "You'll never understand the feeling of love at first sight."
"You and I fell in love at first sight too." He protested.
I said, "Go away, who said that you should devote your whole life to oil painting?"
When the last string of keys was unlocked, I jumped up from the library table. Everyone in the reading room is looking at me, and I don't care. I rushed out of the vaulted corridor of the library, yelled three pointless voices into the sky, and got on the bus to Plimpton Manor.
I heard Edgar calling me from behind, and I turned back and waved to him excitedly.
However, I was stopped at the gate of Plimpton Manor because I was not invited this time. Andrew was not there, so the guard called his assistant, Annie. After a while, the blond beauty came out to pick me up and asked me to wait for Andrew in the last room.
"You pretended to be Linton last time." She gave me a warning look: "This is MI6. If Mr. Garcia hadn't spoken for you, you would have been arrested as a spy."
I leaned on the leather sofa and waited for Andremon, waiting bored. On his desk is a framed picture of Anderson in his youth, with the Linston Mathematics Medal pinned to his chest. He has not changed much from now, with a serious expression, because the deep eye sockets make his green eyes show a melancholy temperament that does not match his age.
I picked up the photo frame, trying to take out the photo and take a closer look. A photograph stacked behind it fell out.
I was taken aback.
The hidden photo was of a lady with brown curly hair. She stood alone by the window, tilting her head and smiling at the camera. Her smile was soft and sweet, and her gray-blue eyes looked gentle.
I am well aware of this gentle gaze, I have been stared at by it for five years.
Because that's my mother.
Andremon once said: "I let you give up declassification out of respect for your deceased parents."