The Unabomber Revelation
Technopia 1993. After sketching the tablet from various angles, Yoo Jae-won moved on to the internal design. Since rough sketches would not suffice, he launched Autodesk’s CAD program. Unlike ordinary graphics software that demanded delicate mouse control, this tool allowed even someone without natural talent like Yoo Jae-won to produce proper design drawings. “If only the price were a little more reasonable,” he muttered. The cost was indeed steep. The recently released CAD R13 for Android carried a price tag of $1,230—ten times more expensive than ID Office, the priciest software ID Technology had released so far.
Yet the high price was not arbitrary. Development costs had been substantial, and the pool of potential buyers was limited to architects and plant designers. On the other hand, the added value that could be generated through CAD-assisted design was enormous, so the pricing made perfect sense. Universities, students, and academies, however, received the software at a price with one zero removed. Once students grew accustomed to Autodesk CAD in school, they would continue using it after graduation—the most reliable way to secure future customers.
“This is our own know-how.” Interestingly, once ID Technology began supplying ID Office and the Android operating system to schools either free or at rock-bottom prices, other companies followed suit. Autodesk itself had learned from ID Technology’s aggressive academic marketing strategy. Nevertheless, Yoo Jae-won still had to pay the full $1,230 without even a ten-dollar discount because the software was for commercial use. Although he was a Stanford student, his position as chairman of ID Group took precedence. Of course, the purchase had been made with company funds, but since both pockets ultimately belonged to him, the sting remained.
“Should we just build our own CAD program?” By Yoo Jae-won’s standards, CAD R13 still had enormous room for improvement. With hundreds of excellent programmers at ID Group, creating a superior design program would be trivial. Moreover, since ID Group was already leading 3D library development, combining it with a CAD program would generate tremendous synergy. The problem was that too many projects were already underway; available manpower was stretched thin. Releasing an Android patch every hundred days was an ongoing task, video-editing software and a 3D game engine were nearing completion, and every available engineer was already committed.
“Let’s think positively and focus on this design first.” If ID Technology entered the CAD market, people might accuse it of trying to dominate everything, but no one could predict how long it would take for a new program to reach Yoo Jae-won’s standards. Still convinced that he could build it himself if necessary, he decided to hire additional personnel and develop a next-generation CAD program as quickly as possible while concentrating on the tablet PC design.
Three days passed. Sketching with a pencil had been quick, but drawing precise design drawings on a computer proved far more demanding. Had he started from a blank slate, the task might have taken months. Because the entire blueprint—from schematic to finished product—already existed clearly in his mind, Yoo Jae-won completed the design in just three days.
“Hmm. Even the drawings look like quite the monstrosity.” The main issue was thickness. He had used the mainboard from the Shell Book and ruthlessly removed unnecessary components such as speakers. Even so, the thickest central section still exceeded three centimeters. By tapering the edges as much as possible, he managed to bring them down to about 1.5 centimeters. The diagonal measured twelve inches, and the estimated weight was 2.5 kilograms. Anyone from the twenty-first century would have burst out laughing if told this was a tablet PC. Furthermore, this was only a computer-generated design; once actually built, many parts would undoubtedly require revision.
“Hardware will have to be built however it turns out.” The real priority was software. Thanks to the dramatically improved computer performance, he believed he could quickly create the interface and visuals he wanted. Since he now had to begin adapting the PC version of the Android operating system for mobile devices and touch-screen interfaces, he immediately sent the completed design drawings to Michael Bolt, president of Lightning Bolt. The email contained not only the files but also a comprehensive document detailing every aspect of the tablet PC, from design concept to full specifications.
Lightning Bolt was one of the venture companies under ID Technology. Although it manufactured electric bicycles, it also functioned as a workshop capable of building almost anything by hand. Having recently discontinued Model 1 and now designing Model 2, the company was not under urgent pressure, so Yoo Jae-won felt comfortable entrusting the work to them. At the same time, he sent an identical email to Kim Dae-seok. Kim’s task was to procure the necessary components for the tablet PC and deliver them to Lightning Bolt. No matter how skilled Michael Bolt might be, he could not create something from nothing. Therefore, major parts such as the LCD panel, touch screen, mainboard, and lithium battery had to be supplied by Kim Dae-seok.
The task was not difficult. Most of the required components were already being produced by companies under ID Technology, so a single phone call would have them delivered to the United States. Gurgle.
Even the most intense concentration required physical stamina to sustain. Right after sending the emails, Yoo Jae-won, who had been focused on the monitor, lifted his hands from the keyboard at the sound of his stomach. Turning his head, he saw a deep sunset painting the western sky. It was early summer, when the days were long; it must have been around six in the evening.
“Chairman, it’s time for dinner.”
Kim Dae-seok knocked on the study door at just the right moment. After saving all his work, Yoo Jae-won stepped into the dining room to find a Korean feast centered on spicy braised beef short ribs, accompanied by beef soup and an array of side dishes. Three rice bowls had been set out—for Yoo Jae-won, Kim Dae-seok, and Oh Hyun-ji. Oh Hyun-ji’s presence made sense; she was the one who had prepared the meal.
Before Oh Hyun-ji arrived in America, meals had usually been eaten out. They would go to a nearby hotel for Western courses or to a Korean restaurant when craving Korean food. On lazy days, they simply poured cereal into milk. For a billionaire, the diet had been completely haphazard. Yoo Jae-won was not particularly picky about food and possessed neither gluttony nor a gourmet’s palate; he simply ate when hungry. The only thing he took regularly was a protein supplement. He still worked out for more than an hour every day, and the supplement was essential for building the lean muscle that made his suits fit well.
Everything changed once Oh Hyun-ji came to the United States. Kim Dae-seok often stayed to eat dinner with Yoo Jae-won before leaving for the day, partly because he felt sorry for Oh Hyun-ji eating alone. One evening, while they were out at a Korean restaurant, Oh Hyun-ji offered to cook instead. The restaurant they had visited was run by a first-generation Korean-American who had lived in the U.S. for a long time; the food had been heavily Americanized and tasted strange. In Los Angeles, where many Koreans lived, finding a decent Korean restaurant would have been easy, but Silicon Valley was different. Yoo Jae-won, already tired of the odd Korean food, agreed to let her try. To his surprise, the taste closely matched his mother’s cooking. From then on, Oh Hyun-ji prepared dinner every Wednesday and Friday. Naturally, Yoo Jae-won covered all ingredient costs and paid her a daily wage comparable to a top hotel chef’s catering service. Although Oh Hyun-ji, with her strong Korean mindset, initially refused the payment, she accepted after Yoo Jae-won threatened to eat out instead.
Today’s meal proved the decision correct. The sweet-and-spicy short ribs with their chewy texture disappeared into Yoo Jae-won’s stomach in an instant, leaving only bones behind. The other side dishes were excellent as well. Eating together rather than alone made the meal taste even better. After finishing the pleasant dinner and cleaning up together, Kim Dae-seok and Oh Hyun-ji left for the day.
“I should watch the news.”
Instead of returning to the study, Yoo Jae-won went to the living room and turned on the television. While speed mattered, browsing news pages on Nextcom was not bad either. Yet when considering the sheer volume of information, television with its accompanying visuals delivered far richer content. The screen immediately displayed Fox News. Although the conservative tone did not suit Yoo Jae-won’s taste, Fox News was far more entertaining than CNN.
“Still going on about the Unabomber?”
As the screen brightened, a police sketch wearing the signature Boeing sunglasses appeared—the very symbol of the Unabomber. On the international front, high-level talks between the United States and North Korea regarding the nuclear issue were underway in New York. The negotiations had reached the fourth round, just as in the original timeline. To most Americans, the North Korean problem felt like a distant story. Moreover, thanks to Yoo Jae-won’s earlier intervention, North Korea had been unable to draw as much international attention with its nuclear program as before, leaving the issue somewhat deflated. Domestically, however, nothing had yet matched the Unabomber in sensationalism. Media outlets that had broken the news of his arrest were now digging into every detail of his life, including how a mathematics professor had become a serial bomber. Even that angle had lost its novelty, leaving viewers wondering what else remained to be said.
Yoo Jae-won’s expression grew peculiar as he listened. “Yoo Jae-won! The youngest billionaire who founded ID Group, devoured Microsoft, and conquered the PC operating-system market—and the extraordinary genius who solved one of mathematics’ seven great problems, the Poincaré conjecture—has reportedly made a decisive contribution to capturing the Unabomber.”
Yoo Jae-won blinked. The fact that a mail bomb had been delivered to him was no secret; it had been big news that rocked Silicon Valley, prompting concerned calls from all directions. Many people had even visited in person. Rumors had circulated that he staged the incident for attention. Yet his offer to assist the Unabomber task force had remained confidential. Neither the task force nor Yoo Jae-won wanted the information publicized. He had assumed the report had been properly filed with the FBI’s higher authorities.
“There are no secrets in this world, but this is moving awfully fast.”
Very few people knew that Yoo Jae-won had cooperated with the task force. Within ID Group, only Remington, Alan, Choi Kang-wook, Kim Dae-seok, and the data-center director were aware. On the task-force side, only the document-analysis team and Team Leader Skinner knew. Clearly, someone among them had a loose tongue. Suspicion naturally fell on the task-force members rather than ID Group employees. From Remington down to the data-center director, everyone’s interests were straightforward and their loyalty unquestionable. The task force, however, was a disorganized mix of individuals. One of them must have coordinated with the broadcaster and revealed Yoo Jae-won’s name.
“Even more astonishing is this!” the anchor continued. “When you think of Chairman Yoo Jae-won, what comes to mind? Computers! According to reports, the decisive clue Chairman Yoo uncovered was obtained through computer data analysis.”
“Computer data analysis, you say? That’s nothing short of remarkable. At the same time, it’s concerning. We found the Unabomber this time, but what might be found next?”
“Exactly. It’s only a possibility, but who knows whether a backdoor has been installed inside the operating system? Perhaps the Unabomber capture itself was achieved using that backdoor.”
The two anchors’ conversation grew increasingly absurd, suggesting that Yoo Jae-won was collecting users’ personal information for illegal purposes. True to Fox News’s style—conservative at its core yet willing to do anything for sensationalism—they made wild leaps without verifying facts.
“They should have at least contacted us before broadcasting.”
If Fox News had conducted any reporting on ID Group, Yoo Jae-won would certainly have received notification. Yet his email and ID Talk contained not a single related report. Instead, duty officers who had seen the broadcast were posting articles that clipped the relevant segments.
“Hmm. What to do?”
Even if Fox News was unreliable, it was still a national network. A media storm was inevitable starting tomorrow. Part of him wanted to hold a press conference and flatly deny the ridiculous claims. In reality, the situation was the exact opposite of what Fox News portrayed. No company championed personal-information protection more vigorously than ID Technology. When signing up for Nextcom, only the minimum information was collected—name, address, and email. The name and address were required solely to send billing statements for paid services; free users needed only email verification. The Android operating system required nothing more than creating an ID and password of one’s choosing. Even the big-data analysis that had yielded the decisive clue about the Unabomber contained nothing illegally collected; academic papers were, after all, publicly available publications meant to be read.
“It’s not something I need to step forward for.”
The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that he should not take an active role. Explaining big-data analysis was the task force’s responsibility. If inquiries arose about whether ID Group or Yoo Jae-won operated such a system, neither confirming nor denying would suffice. As for reckless reporting like Fox News’s, the group’s legal department could handle it.
Just as he finished organizing his thoughts, the phone rang.
“Ah, Director Alan.”
The caller was Alan, the legal director, as though he had read Yoo Jae-won’s mind. Naturally, the topic was the Fox News broadcast.
“I’m filing a lawsuit against Fox News immediately! After we caught the bomber who terrorized the entire nation, they’re now painting you as an unscrupulous stalker. I absolutely cannot stand by and watch.”
Alan’s voice burned with an anger Yoo Jae-won had never heard from him before.
“Understood. Then please handle this matter, Director Alan.”
A lawsuit against the media was slightly daunting, yet it seemed appropriate to demonstrate presence at this point.
A few days later, controversy over personal information intensified following the Fox News report, placing ID Technology at the center of the storm. ID Group’s response followed standard procedure. The customer-service department calmly reassured anxious users, while the legal team demanded a correction from Fox and warned of impending legal action. If Fox refused to issue a correction, they would sue. Fox News responded with a defiant “go ahead.”
Amid the situation, Yoo Jae-won left the house under heavy security. Remington still refused to lower the protection level despite Yoo Jae-won’s feeling that it might no longer be necessary. In any case, his original schedule had involved developing the touch interface and tuning the Android operating system for mobile use. Designing the USB expansion port could not be neglected either; everything from chip design to port shape fell under his responsibilities. He intended to focus solely on work.
Then an unexpected schedule arose. He would normally have ignored such matters, and he was certainly capable of doing so, but the counterpart was the CIA. Moreover, the CIA’s sixth-ranking official—the Director of the Directorate of Science and Technology—had personally flown to Silicon Valley. Yoo Jae-won therefore decided to meet him.
The CIA director’s business was, of course, the acquisition of the big-data analysis system. Originally, President Remington had been handling the negotiations, which had proceeded smoothly aside from a few issues. However, the Fox News report a few days earlier had introduced a new variable, prompting the usually sedentary CIA director to make the trip to Silicon Valley.