The Information Super-Highway
The surge in CPU orders for the Information Super-Highway naturally brought discounts, but the savings exceeded expectations. Delivery was lightning fast as well. Intel had changed, and the other component makers were no different.
“Price is a curious thing,” Lee Yong-kwon remarked.
“How so?”
“Even when it’s expensive, it still sells. And demand here in Korea is surprisingly strong. I don’t even know what to call this phenomenon.”
“Small differences create luxury,” Jae-won replied. “The Egg PC has already entered that tier.”
“Hah, already?”
“Yes. It’s called the Veblen effect.”
“The what? The ‘belly-full’ effect?”
“Veblen effect. It comes from Thorstein Veblen’s book The Theory of the Leisure Class, where he argued that conspicuous consumption by the upper class is driven by an unconscious desire to display social status.”
Lee Yong-kwon could only stick out his tongue at Jae-won’s fluent explanation. He himself had studied abroad in the United States at great expense, yet he could barely recall what he had learned there. He hadn’t exactly buried himself in his studies, and his English hadn’t been strong at the time. Meanwhile, the boy sitting across from him—far younger—overflowed with knowledge.
“Luxury goods are naturally objects of envy, yet not everyone can own them because they’re expensive. Still, the Egg PC isn’t priced so outrageously that only the upper class can afford it. In any case, quality control will become critical from now on.”
“When did you learn all this?”
“Oh, I just read in my spare time while traveling.”
Jae-won spoke modestly, but the truth was that he had studied himself half to death in his previous life precisely to be able to show this side of himself. It felt good to finally reap the reward.
“The inside has to be clean, of course, but the most important thing is that there must be no gaps where the outer casing meets. What might have passed before will now be rejected as defective. It has to be fixed.”
“Of course. You’re right.”
Jae-won didn’t own a single share of Sambo Computer stock, yet he issued instructions as if he were the owner. Lee Yong-kwon simply smiled warmly and wrote everything down. These were lessons that would become flesh and blood, and he was firmly convinced that Sambo Computer could only become a first-rate company by deepening its partnership with ID Technology.
“We’ve officially adopted ID Office and Android Alpha,” Lee Yong-kwon added. “It’s a shame about Boseokgeul, but ID Office’s productivity is simply unmatched.”
He also made no secret of the fact that Sambo Computer was now making heavy use of ID Technology’s products.
“The moment the next Egg PC design is ready, you have to show it to us first!”
“Of course. You’ll be the first to see it.”
Sambo Computer’s only real worry was that the next Egg PC might come from another company. No matter how good the design, freshness eventually faded. Rival firms were already releasing all-in-one PCs that copied the Egg PC’s design like mushrooms after rain. Yet the Egg PC still held the highest design quality, and it carried ID Technology’s certification mark, so no threatening substitute had appeared yet. As a result, other companies had begun competing on price, which only reinforced the Veblen effect and drove Egg PC popularity even higher.
The real problem was the follow-up product. Sambo Computer had no computer designers. The chairman had only begun emphasizing design—and planning to create a dedicated department—after witnessing the Egg PC’s power. But no matter how hard Lee Yong-kwon thought about it, he couldn’t imagine that new team producing a worthy successor. The only solution was to obtain a proper follow-up design from the original creator, Yoo Jae-won.
“Last time we received it for practically nothing because we didn’t know any better. This time we’ll pay the proper design fee.”
“Really? My price might be rather steep.”
Even at the mention of a high price, Lee Yong-kwon’s expression didn’t change. Each Egg PC sold brought in over two million won in profit—an enormous margin. When they had sold ordinary IBM-compatible PCs, the profit had been only three or four hundred thousand won. A single design had multiplied the margin more than fivefold. He was more than willing to pay whatever it took.
But Jae-won’s next words caught him completely off guard.
“What I want isn’t money. I want Sambo Computer to focus entirely on computer manufacturing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Computers are going to become household necessities. Not just in Korea, but in advanced countries like the United States as well. In other words, for the next several years Sambo Computer will be so busy making computers that you won’t have time for anything else. Your warehouses will overflow with profits. Then the day will come when you want to try something new—but I’m asking you to hold back and wait for the right moment. Instead of chasing strange new businesses, simply keep watering the tree that’s already bearing fruit. That wouldn’t be so bad either.”
Lee Yong-kwon suddenly recalled something Jae-won had said before.
“So it’s that thing you mentioned last time.”
He had listened seriously enough back then, but he hadn’t taken it to heart. Chairman Lee Yong-tae and Lee Yong-kwon himself had felt the same way. If anything, they had found it distasteful that a young man with such potential would behave like the existing chaebols, dabbling in real estate. Yet hearing it again now felt entirely different.
“There will be an announcement soon. I… or rather, ID Technology will be acquiring a stake in DACOM.”
“DACOM?”
“Yes. Starting with ISDN, we plan to begin rolling out high-speed data communication networks. You already know about the KETEL acquisition, don’t you?”
“I knew about KETEL, but I didn’t expect you to go after DACOM shares as well.”
“Together, these fall under the category of wired data communication services. But the truly enormous market lies beyond the inconvenience of wires—in wireless communications.”
“Exactly!”
Given his position, Lee Yong-kwon used the telephone frequently. Especially when he was out, the thought of having a mobile phone was particularly appealing.
“The mobile communications sector hides far greater potential than people realize. It may be difficult right now, but if you accumulate capital for a few years, entering the mobile communications market won’t be a stretch for Sambo Computer. When ID Technology’s wired network combines with Sambo’s wireless network, the synergy will be beyond imagination.”
Sometimes it was better not to eat everything alone. Government checks and the danger of an organization growing too large were real concerns. Jae-won had already concluded that the best approach was for ID Technology to retain the core backbone network—the most fundamental part of data communication services—while entrusting the application layer, the wireless communication business, to its closest partner, Sambo Computer, thereby generating powerful synergy. Of course, the operating system and hardware for mobile phones would be led by ID Technology. There was no other choice. When smart phones eventually became widespread, other companies would lack both the vision and the technology.
Lee Yong-kwon had heard this once before, but at the time it had gone in one ear and out the other. Now he carefully chewed over every point Jae-won made and committed it to memory.
“I understand completely. I’ll speak to the chairman. He’s already impressed by your insight, so he won’t be pushing for any reckless new ventures.”
The conversation with Lee Yong-kwon ended well. Even if Chairman Lee Yong-tae eventually stepped down, as long as Lee Yong-kwon became the next chairman, the partnership with ID Technology would remain steady.
Time flew, and soon it was early February. The long winter break ended in an instant, and the short spring break was approaching. Since classes hadn’t resumed yet, the children enjoyed a leisurely period, but for Jae-won the days remained hectic. His main task was diligently following the schedule prepared by Chief of Staff Choi Kang-wook. He had already given several interviews in front of television and newspaper reporters and had been called to various events to show his face. At the same time, he continued to pour his energy into software development to keep the company’s schedule on track.
Even if he wanted to rest, he couldn’t. It felt like only yesterday that the first patch for Android Alpha had been released, yet the second patch was already due soon. This update focused on strengthening network functions. It would include a built-in dial-up program and a socket program for internet access. Glide X 2.0 would also be added, making it a substantial update.
Meanwhile, the elite members of the Silicon Valley development team had begun work on a Unix-style kernel for Android 1.0. They were ruthlessly stripping away features unnecessary for individual users to maximize performance. The Rodeo Team in Korea, led by Lee Chan-soo, would soon begin operations as well. There were still many shortcomings. In addition, the relocation of servers acquired from KETEL was underway, and new servers ordered from IBM were scheduled to arrive, so the building housing the Rodeo Team was still under heavy construction.
While the organization was steadily taking shape, Jae-won had yet to escape the coding hell. Although ID Technology’s rising profile was attracting talented people, none of them possessed programming skills comparable to his own. Until the company established a system capable of running multiple large development teams simultaneously like Microsoft, Jae-won’s workload would continue.
Amid all this, several personally important matters were decided. The education office’s lottery had assigned Jae-won to Yeoju Middle School. True to its unremarkable name, it was an ordinary boys’ middle school in downtown Yeoju. With eight classes of fifty students each, the total enrollment reached 1,200—a large school. Thanks to its size, Jae-won’s friends Jumin and Yeong-sik were also assigned there. However, Soo-kyung and Eun-hye, who were entering the girls’ middle school, would be separated from Jae-won and were visibly upset.
Well, this was how most elementary school friendships began to drift apart—by being sent to different schools. It was an age-old truth that distance in space eventually led to distance in the heart.
“Just come to our office after school. I’ll be there until six on weekdays anyway.”
Jae-won spoke breezily to the girls who were sniffling about their friendships ending. During middle school, he planned to make the Yeoju office his personal base. Friends who wanted to keep learning computers could come there. They could play together too.
Among his friends, two stood out. One was Yeong-sik, who surprisingly showed talent for programming. The other was Soo-kyung. Perhaps because she had done nothing but eat and type, her word-processor skills were extraordinary. Her eye for detail was so sharp that she could look at a printed handout and perfectly recreate it in ID Word. If a nationally recognized word-processor certification ever appeared, Soo-kyung would probably pass the first-grade exam in one go.
“This isn’t even coding. I don’t know what I’m doing,” Jae-won muttered as he typed away at ID Word.
He was working hard on the document the President had personally requested. Originally, he had planned to send it around the end of February. After all, the massive political merger of the three parties had erupted on January 22 as scheduled, throwing the entire country into chaos. The President would be busy, so the report had naturally fallen down the priority list. But a few days ago he had received an urging call from the Blue House asking when it would arrive, so he was now working diligently.
“If something like this comes up again, I’ll have to hand it off to Soo-kyung or someone else.”
Even as he made the half-hearted promise, his fingers never stopped moving. Thanks to that, after some time had passed, he was finally able to place the last period.
“It’s done.”
The document’s title was Information Super-Highway.
The completed file, still in ID Word format, was transmitted in an instant to the Blue House annex via ISDN—the prototype of the Information Super-Highway. Measured by the distance between the Blue House and Deokjin-ri, it traveled faster than a bullet.