V=IR: Part Two - Metcalfe's Law
Dec. 14th, 2007 09:50 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsWhen an email from the Tesla Club brings Forge's attention back to Milan's impossible proposal, he decides to call in some expert assistance.
Forge settled in behind his desk and began the process of checking his afternoon email. One in particular caught his eye and he pulled it up, reading to himself as he scanned it quickly.
"The Tesla Club announces the leading candidate for the 2007 Wardenclyffe Prize... Francisco Milan... the hell?" he murmured incredulously, quickly reading through the rest of the email. Puzzled, he opened a series of browser windows, looking at pages of mathematical equations and engineering schematics, scribbling notations on a scratch pad as he did so. After a few minutes, he shook his head and picked up the phone, dialing quickly as he tapped his pen nervously on the desk.
Doug recognized the extension on his caller ID, and kicked his feet up on his desk as he kept one eye on the automated search string he had just begun a few minutes ago. "Snow Valley Memorial Center for yadda yadda, et cetera, etcetera. What's up, Forge?"
"Asymmetric key cryptography," Forge answered by way of hello, "you know, the stuff that takes the supercomputers to decrypt? How familiar are you with it?"
"Public key? Reasonably so," Doug replied, his curiosity piqued. "It was something of a hobby even before I came to work here at Remy and Pete's Home for Wayward Youths," he joked. "I suspect you have a reason for calling and asking?" Forge rarely did anything without some logical reason behind it, and he didn't often ask rhetorical questions.
"What would you say if I told you someone's claiming to have generated a mechanical solution for two hundred fifty-six bit public key encryption?" Forge said, letting the implication hang in the air.
"Mechanical?" Doug's voice was incredulous on the other end. His feet slipped off the desk and he leaned forward. "I'd say they're likely off their gourd. I mean, anything's possible, theoretically, but a mechanical solution for two hundred fifty-six bit? A smaller key I might buy, but no."
Forge nodded, despite the gesture not carrying over the phone. "My conclusion exactly. I did the math, a device like that would be absolutely enormous, we're talking square-cube violation big. But there's this guy, Francisco Milan, claims to have done it and has a working prototype. He's supposed to be debuting it at the Tesla Club in a few days, they say he's a lock for the Wardenclyffe Prize. Me, I say he's bullshitting. So," he concluded, "as a recognized genius in the crypto field, want to come check it out with me and bust this fraud?"
Doug snorted. "Recognized genius? Me? Since when?" he asked jokingly. A few keystrokes brought up his computerized dayplanner. "Looks like the next few days are pretty open for me. And I admit the dribs and drabs you've told me about the Tesla Club have me curious. When, where, and what's the dress code like?"
"Wardenclyffe demonstrations are casual, the Club facilities aren't too far from the brownstone, to be honest. Angie and I went there once or twice," Forge paused, wondering if that may have been too much information. "Anyway, it's a public demonstration and while I can tell at a glance if his tech's any good, you've got the credibility with your work with Snow Valley. Emma's name carries quite a bit of weight with some of these folks."
"Hm. Fair enough," Doug allowed. "Emma's name carries quite a bit of weight with a number of folks, to be honest." He put a scheduling note in the calendar, and nodded to himself. "You're paying for dinner," he told the inventor. "And Forge? This time no staring down my dress."
Forge settled in behind his desk and began the process of checking his afternoon email. One in particular caught his eye and he pulled it up, reading to himself as he scanned it quickly.
"The Tesla Club announces the leading candidate for the 2007 Wardenclyffe Prize... Francisco Milan... the hell?" he murmured incredulously, quickly reading through the rest of the email. Puzzled, he opened a series of browser windows, looking at pages of mathematical equations and engineering schematics, scribbling notations on a scratch pad as he did so. After a few minutes, he shook his head and picked up the phone, dialing quickly as he tapped his pen nervously on the desk.
Doug recognized the extension on his caller ID, and kicked his feet up on his desk as he kept one eye on the automated search string he had just begun a few minutes ago. "Snow Valley Memorial Center for yadda yadda, et cetera, etcetera. What's up, Forge?"
"Asymmetric key cryptography," Forge answered by way of hello, "you know, the stuff that takes the supercomputers to decrypt? How familiar are you with it?"
"Public key? Reasonably so," Doug replied, his curiosity piqued. "It was something of a hobby even before I came to work here at Remy and Pete's Home for Wayward Youths," he joked. "I suspect you have a reason for calling and asking?" Forge rarely did anything without some logical reason behind it, and he didn't often ask rhetorical questions.
"What would you say if I told you someone's claiming to have generated a mechanical solution for two hundred fifty-six bit public key encryption?" Forge said, letting the implication hang in the air.
"Mechanical?" Doug's voice was incredulous on the other end. His feet slipped off the desk and he leaned forward. "I'd say they're likely off their gourd. I mean, anything's possible, theoretically, but a mechanical solution for two hundred fifty-six bit? A smaller key I might buy, but no."
Forge nodded, despite the gesture not carrying over the phone. "My conclusion exactly. I did the math, a device like that would be absolutely enormous, we're talking square-cube violation big. But there's this guy, Francisco Milan, claims to have done it and has a working prototype. He's supposed to be debuting it at the Tesla Club in a few days, they say he's a lock for the Wardenclyffe Prize. Me, I say he's bullshitting. So," he concluded, "as a recognized genius in the crypto field, want to come check it out with me and bust this fraud?"
Doug snorted. "Recognized genius? Me? Since when?" he asked jokingly. A few keystrokes brought up his computerized dayplanner. "Looks like the next few days are pretty open for me. And I admit the dribs and drabs you've told me about the Tesla Club have me curious. When, where, and what's the dress code like?"
"Wardenclyffe demonstrations are casual, the Club facilities aren't too far from the brownstone, to be honest. Angie and I went there once or twice," Forge paused, wondering if that may have been too much information. "Anyway, it's a public demonstration and while I can tell at a glance if his tech's any good, you've got the credibility with your work with Snow Valley. Emma's name carries quite a bit of weight with some of these folks."
"Hm. Fair enough," Doug allowed. "Emma's name carries quite a bit of weight with a number of folks, to be honest." He put a scheduling note in the calendar, and nodded to himself. "You're paying for dinner," he told the inventor. "And Forge? This time no staring down my dress."
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