In Search of Klingsor

“I suppose there’s no way I can refuse you.”

“You won’t. You owe a good deal to this country and the moment has finally arrived for you to give back a little bit of what you’ve received. Doesn’t that seem fair? In addition, as Professor Aydelotte mentioned, you don’t belong to the institute anymore. Your staying on at the institute would only cause problems, not to mention the ones you already have before you. I think you know what I’m talking about.” Bird spoke to Bacon as if he were a small child who needed to hear the reasons for doing his chores. “Obviously, I must have total confidentiality. You mustn’t discuss this with anyone, and I’m afraid you’ll only be permitted to say good-bye to those closest to you, and without many details as to the reasons for your departure.”

“How can I tell them if I don’t know anything myself?”

“Tell them you’re enlisting in the army. That you’ve finally decided to do it. Later on, if things calm down, you can write to them and tell them the truth.”

“This is awfully strange. I’ll have to think about it.”

“I’m sorry, Professor Bacon, but there isn’t time for that. You’ll have to trust us—just as your country trusts you.”

Bacon knocked loudly on Von Neumann’s door, as desperate as a dying man looking for a priest to issue his last rites. His headache had disappeared entirely, replaced by a feeling of unreality, possibly brought on by his fever.

“What’s going on?” Von Neumann asked him as he opened the door, brusque as usual. Bacon walked into his office without waiting to be invited in.

“I’ve come to thank you for your recommendation,” he announced. “And to say good-bye.”

Von Neumann sat down in his chair and studied Bacon for a few moments. A paternal expression came over his face. As always, his initial surly attitude gave way to a mellow friendliness.

“I’m glad you took the offer, my friend. You made a good decision.”

“You already knew, didn’t you?”

“After the … incident, Aydelotte called me into his office. Veblen was demanding that you be expelled immediately from the institute. I simply told them the truth: that you’re an excellent physicist but that your future doesn’t lie here. Aydelotte thought it over and then told me that perhaps there was a better opportunity for you, a ‘research trip,’ he called it.” Von Neumann allowed himself a slight, acidic smile. “In the age we find ourselves in, my dear Bacon, we all have to make sacrifices. You are an intelligent man, one who can do a great deal of good for his country—but somewhere else, not here in Princeton, in this ivory tower. I know you’re anxious and upset, but I can’t say any more than this: You were chosen to participate in an important mission because you’re a physicist. You won’t be an ordinary soldier; your work is going to be terribly important.”

“I would have rather made the decision under less pressure.”

“But in a way you did make the decision, my boy. The circumstances worked in your favor. Don’t you remember our last conversation?” Von Neumann patted Bacon’s shoulder affectionately. “You yourself told me about your romantic problems, about your dilemma with those two women. I tried to explain to you that game theory also works when applied to romantic strategies. Do you follow me so far?”

“Of course.”

“Ever since that day, I knew that if you insisted on maintaining your life as it was, allowing nothing to change, that eventually you would lose everything. Instead of solving your problem, you would only make it worse. And that is exactly what happened.”

“I suppose so. You told me that I was caught in the middle of a rivalry between Vivien and Elizabeth and that the moment would inevitably arrive in which I would be forced to choose between the two. It was either that or the inverse: that one of them would leave me.”

“I’m sorry to have to tell you that I wasn’t mistaken.”

“Even so, I think you fell short. You saw what happened. In the end, they came face-to-face, and the end result is that I lost both of them.”

“That’s what I expected.” There was a touch of compassion in Von Neumann’s voice that Bacon had never heard before. “It makes sense. To fall in love with two women—which is very different from sleeping with two women—is the worst thing that can happen to a man. At first you think of it as a blessing, as a sign of virility, but in fact it’s more like a calamity, of biblical proportions at that. The truth always comes out in the end, and by that time you don’t know how or why you ever got involved in the game to begin with. It’s hard enough to love one woman, Bacon, let alone two.” Von Neumann seemed to be recalling his own turbulent romantic history. “The competition established between two women in love with the same man is a zero-sum game. If one woman wins, the other necessarily loses, and vice versa. It is impossible to satisfy both. No matter how fair he tries to be, the man in question always ends up betraying both women. In the long run this behavior provokes suspicion and in the worst cases (like your own), a confrontation between the two rivals. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes, Bacon.”

“But you told me that there might be a logical solution to this mess.”

“There is!” It amused Von Neumann to play the role of the deus ex machina. “Once all three trains have collided, so to speak, the only possible strategy is to abandon the game altogether and begin another. That’s it.”

“Leave them both?”

“Once and for all.”

“That’s why you recommended me for the position?”

“Well, that was the catalyst. I hope you’re not upset. In all honesty, I do believe this is your only option. It isn’t running away, but rather saving what little you have left. Or would you rather stay in the little hell that seems to have swallowed you up?”

Bacon was silent. He was still reeling from the effects of the recent chain of events—Elizabeth’s pain and subsequent rage; Vivien’s abrupt disappearance; the scandalized murmurs in the hallways of the institute. He could barely think about what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Maybe Aydelotte, Von Neumann, and Mr. Bird were right. Maybe the best thing was for him to forget about them before they could forget about him—or hunt him down.

“So … should I be thanking you?” Bacon asked, slightly incredulous.

“Not right now, but someday. It’s a rare opportunity to fight for a good cause. But don’t be sad—I’m afraid you and I have no choice but to remain in contact.”

“What do you mean?” asked Bacon.

“Mr. Bird may be a decent naval attaché, but he isn’t exactly an exemplar of wisdom.”

“You know him?”

“Of course I know him! But that’s not important right now. I’m going to tell you a secret, Bacon, because I trust you. I work for them as well.”

“You?”

“It’s one of my side projects. Perhaps not the most interesting, but one of them. In my house, I keep a small suitcase packed with clothes and, of course, a bulletproof vest. I’m only allowed to bring what’s absolutely essential. When Klara’s not looking, I can usually sneak a good medieval history book in there. Anyway, at any given moment they can summon me, and the flights to London can be very tedious.”

“London!”

“That may be the next place we see each other, Bacon. That’s where you’ll be going. At the very least we can get together for a nice cup of tea.”

“So I’m going to London?”

“You’re quick, Bacon. Yes, you’re going to Europe, under the auspices of the United States Navy. You’ll know war by then. You’ll know the world, and I promise you, you’ll be much happier than you have been here.”

Bacon sat still for a few moments, digesting Von Neumann’s words. He was going to be an agent in the service of the United States in Europe. He repeated this to himself several times over until it finally sank in and he actually believed it.

“The one thing that still troubles me is Professor Gödel,” Bacon suddenly said. It was the only aspect of his conversation with Aydelotte which he hadn’t discussed with Von Neumann. “I think that the incident had a terrible impact on him.”