The Safe House Negotiation
The road to the Technopia 1993 meeting place. Today, Remington sat beside Yoo Jae-won instead of Kim Dae-seok, explaining everything that had transpired during the negotiations with the CIA. There was nothing particularly urgent Yoo Jae-won needed to know about the deal itself. The CIA had already agreed to adopt the full software-and-hardware package.
“The Director of the CIA’s Directorate of Science and Technology is a man named John McMahon. His defining trait is that he is extremely conservative,” Remington said. When the explanation reached the current Director, Yoo Jae-won tilted his head. The words “science and technology” and “conservative” felt like a mismatch. After all, the Director of Science and Technology was the highest authority on all equipment and technology used by the CIA. The Directorate also operated the CIA’s own technical research institute, conducting research and development to strengthen the organization’s capabilities.
“Yes, I understand it sounds odd,” Remington added after reading Yoo Jae-won’s expression. Once he heard the reasoning, it made sense. Introducing unproven technology that could endanger field agents would be disastrous, so the Directorate approached new technologies with extreme caution. At the same time, the CIA’s situation differed considerably from what the public believed.
Most people, including Yoo Jae-won, held the preconception that the CIA conducted glamorous international espionage operations with cutting-edge equipment and technology, or that it was an organization that produced nothing but blunders despite receiving enormous funding.
“The core issue is the budget.”
“So the CIA constantly suffers from chronic budget shortages, and the science and technology division is the first to feel the impact?”
The biggest point of contention in the current big-data search engine deal was price. The CIA wanted it at a low cost, while ID Group insisted on a price at least higher than the profit margin ID Technology earned on its products. Even if supplying the CIA, personnel would still need to be dispatched for maintenance. Moreover, because the big-data search engine was the latest product only Yoo Jae-won could create, calculating its cost was difficult. The same applied to Remington as president. Hardware estimates were relatively straightforward, but setting the software price was the real problem.
Thanks to this, Yoo Jae-won had given Remington a clear guideline: the minimum price for the big-data search engine package was twenty million dollars. Of the ten million dollars in costs, hardware accounted for four million and software for five million. One million was reserved for maintenance, leaving the remaining ten million as ID Technology’s pure profit. In other words, it was an expensive item with a 100% margin.
“I imagine Director John McMahon will have only one thing to say,” Remington remarked with a meaningful expression.
“He’ll ask for a discount?”
At Yoo Jae-won’s question, Remington nodded firmly. How much to shave off the ten million dollars in pure profit was entirely at Yoo Jae-won’s discretion. Since the profit margin had been set generously, reducing it by several million dollars was no great matter. However, as a businessman, he saw no reason to cut his hard-earned profit without receiving something in return. If the margin decreased, he needed to obtain something equivalent in exchange.
“We’re here.”
While they were talking, they arrived at the meeting location.
“Wow!”
A gasp escaped Yoo Jae-won’s lips. The meeting place was El Granada, west of Silicon Valley. A small port city touching the Pacific, it offered beautiful coastal views, with a state park behind the city. It was a popular resort for Silicon Valley residents and travelers seeking rest. The house itself stood in an upscale residential area within the bustling part of El Granada. The two-story home had a spacious garden and an automatic gate—the kind naturally associated with wealthy households.
“Didn’t you say the CIA was short on money?”
Even though it was a resort town, prices were high. Naturally, real estate values were comparable to those in Silicon Valley.
“It’s a CIA-owned safe house. They purchased it during the Cold War when funds were plentiful,” Remington explained. Yoo Jae-won nodded.
Just then, the automatic gate opened, and a group of people emerged from the main entrance in the distance. They appeared to be CIA personnel coming to greet them. It was time to set aside idle chatter and begin business.
“Welcome. We’ve been expecting you. I’m John McMahon.”
John McMahon, who had been waiting in the lobby, greeted Yoo Jae-won’s party warmly.
“Hello. I’m Yoo Jae-won.”
Yoo Jae-won shook hands and studied John McMahon carefully. His first impression was not bad. The surname McMahon inevitably brought to mind the unscrupulous WWE chairman, but CIA Science and Technology Director John McMahon was clearly a different sort of person. He was slightly smaller in build than Yoo Jae-won and wore thick glasses. He gave the distinct impression of someone who had risen through his own abilities rather than through connections or parachute appointments. Yoo Jae-won even felt a sense of kinship as a fellow developer.
John McMahon seemed to feel something similar and tilted his head. Yoo Jae-won’s outward appearance was that of a mere seventeen-year-old. This was hardly the age to be buried in a small laboratory wrestling with experimental data. Yet he couldn’t understand why the young man gave off a similar feeling to himself. As a result, John McMahon’s inexplicable goodwill toward Yoo Jae-won rose sharply. He had been slightly intimidated by the sight of someone so young building an extraordinary company and producing research outcomes ordinary people couldn’t even imagine, feeling as though Yoo Jae-won existed on a different plane. But a single handshake that shared body heat had created a small sense of kinship.
Soon after, John McMahon shook hands with Remington as well. Having negotiated directly several times before, the greeting was far more casual than with Yoo Jae-won.
“Shall we go inside?”
With a much more relaxed expression, John McMahon guided Yoo Jae-won into the safe house. Of course, Yoo Jae-won was not alone. Remington and Yoo Jae-won’s bodyguards followed behind.
Yoo Jae-won and John McMahon took seats in the second-floor reception room with a clear view of the sea. Refreshments and light snacks were soon served. Given that this was a secret meeting between a CIA director and a VIP, one might have expected strong liquor, but what appeared instead were chilled cola and tropical fruit. The selection had been drastically narrowed due to Yoo Jae-won’s age and preferences. Even in America, underage drinking and smoking were not permitted, though people Yoo Jae-won’s age generally did as they pleased. Had there been any information that Yoo Jae-won drank well, alcohol would have been served—nothing lubricated negotiations quite like liquor. But it was well known that he was a model young man who neither drank nor smoked. The setting, however, was impeccable. A luxurious ice bucket filled with water held the cola bottle. Though wine or champagne would normally occupy that spot, the cola fit surprisingly well. The fruit had been cut artistically, pleasing to the eye and easy to eat.
Director John McMahon personally picked up a cola bottle covered in frost and opened it with an opener. He poured it into the glass in front of Yoo Jae-won. Yoo Jae-won, in turn, took his half-finished cola and poured it into John McMahon’s glass. The attendants’ glasses were filled with cola as well, and a toast was made. Even though the beverage was only cola, they observed all the formalities.
“First, on behalf of the CIA, I apologize for the fact that you were exposed to the Unabomber’s mail bomb.”
As the conversation began, Director John McMahon offered an apology right away. Yoo Jae-won hadn’t thought an apology was necessary, but there were circumstances. Yoo Jae-won was a specially managed VIP within the CIA. The Agency had become aware of his existence quite some time ago—several years, in fact, dating back to when the DOS-compatible operating system Android Alpha was released. Edwin Feulner’s report from the Heritage Foundation had also played a significant role. It had described Yoo Jae-won as a genius with tremendous potential in the information and communications field who needed to be managed with care. Since then, Yoo Jae-won had been under CIA monitoring, and with each remarkable achievement, his evaluation within the Agency rose rapidly. As his evaluation increased, so did his protection level—though the CIA handled it internally without informing Yoo Jae-won or ID Group. It was not as aggressive as the protection afforded to government figures. That was why the Unabomber’s mail bomb had been able to reach Yoo Jae-won’s residence.
“Even if today’s negotiation falls through, we will ensure your protection going forward.”
At John McMahon’s words, Yoo Jae-won quickly set down his cola and waved both hands.
“It’s all right. I’ll take care of my own safety.”
CIA protection was, in name only, essentially surveillance. For Yoo Jae-won, who harbored many secrets, it was absolutely out of the question.
“Ah, I see. Understood.”
John McMahon accepted the refusal immediately. Nevertheless, Yoo Jae-won remained on guard. Despite his unassuming appearance, the man ranked sixth in the CIA hierarchy. Even if he said otherwise, the CIA would continue its so-called protection—more accurately, monitoring—activities. It was something he had to accept if he wanted to do business in America.
“Besides, I personally captured the Unabomber and brought the case to a close. I hear the CIA is quite interested in how I caught him?”
Yoo Jae-won steered the conversation directly to the main topic.
“Ah, yes! You can’t imagine how surprised we were when we learned that your big-data search engine was used to apprehend the Unabomber.”
John McMahon readily took the bait.
“Big-data search. We had developed the theory, of course. But even the research institutions cooperating with the CIA said it would take several more years to actually implement. When we saw that you created it in just a few days after receiving the mail bomb, our researchers were stunned. Some even fell into despair.”
Yoo Jae-won listened quietly. Contrary to his appearance, John McMahon was extremely talkative. By simply listening, Yoo Jae-won could learn the CIA’s inner workings that ordinary people would never know.
“After seeing that, we tried to create something similar ourselves. But it wasn’t easy. I was so tempted that I wanted to visit the Coyote City data center in person.”
Only after the attendant beside him gave a warning glance did John McMahon stop his unconscious stream of words.
“Ahem. In any case, Mr. Yoo, you probably don’t fully realize how much potential your big-data search engine holds.”
“I do.”
Yoo Jae-won answered coolly.
“Yes, so I was going to explain one of its possibilities… Pardon?”
“I said I already know.”
John McMahon had apparently expected Yoo Jae-won to listen quietly. Being told outright that he already knew left him momentarily speechless. Naturally, Yoo Jae-won’s words were not empty. No one understood better than he how widely the core algorithm of the big-data search engine he had just unveiled could be applied in daily life. While searching for the Unabomber, he had only used text, but the system could also process voice and video. Of course, additional modules for interpreting audio and video would be required, and the analysis computers would need greater performance, but the ability to extract desired information from diverse data remained unchanged. In civilian life, it could be used for everything from simple document searches to metadata searches, copyright management, and public opinion surveys. Militarily, its applications were limitless. The same applied to espionage. For example, combining traffic cameras widely installed across America with the big-data search engine would enable real-time tracking of a suspect’s vehicle using only cameras.
Yoo Jae-won shared several methods of utilizing the 21st-century big-data search engine. It was enough to silence the usually verbose John McMahon. The ideas even shocked CIA researchers who had never considered them. The phrase “CIA-certified ultra-elite talent” naturally surfaced in John McMahon’s mind.
“So the big-data search engine is called Prism.”
John McMahon was no ordinary man either. His single impressed remark pierced straight to the essence of the big-data search engine. When light mixes, it becomes brighter and turns white. To find a desired color within that mixed light, a prism is needed. It was a perfect icon for the big-data search engine.
At the same time, Yoo Jae-won’s expression grew subtle, as though watching a fish bite the bait he had cast. But the expression quickly vanished. Returning to a blank face, Yoo Jae-won spoke calmly.
“Yes. If it weren’t for the Unabomber, I wouldn’t have revealed the big-data analyzer to the outside world at all. That’s why I didn’t register a patent either.”
Registering a patent was not always beneficial. To do so, the core algorithm of the big-data search engine would have to be disclosed. While that would block commercial use, other countries could still exploit the technology without authorization. After all, given enough time, anyone could set up a cloud system, install sophisticated network equipment, and configure an operating system properly. Many companies also chose not to register patents for extremely important technologies.
“It was only because it was the CIA that I proceeded with negotiations.”
Yoo Jae-won’s single sentence was decisive. The very fact that negotiations with the CIA were taking place was a privilege, and it prevented any talk of discounts from even arising.
“If you decide to adopt it, we will dispatch our engineers to help ensure stable operation.”
“Thank you.”
In the end, John McMahon raised the white flag without once asking for a discount. The CIA’s prestige was immense, both within government agencies and the private sector. Yet in front of ID Group’s Yoo Jae-won, it meant nothing. The negotiation concluded with another handshake between Yoo Jae-won and Science and Technology Director John McMahon. Had Yoo Jae-won possessed many vulnerabilities, the negotiation would not have proceeded this way. But even the CIA’s power became ordinary when faced with an overwhelmingly capable and clean individual backed by superior technology and capital. As a result, John McMahon found himself wanting to earn Yoo Jae-won’s favor. He could not begin to imagine how many more astonishing things the young man before him would create or how much higher he would rise.
“I’m sure many things are troubling you lately, Mr. Yoo. The last time I watched Fox News, they were spouting nonsense.”
“Personal information is a sensitive topic, so I’m letting it pass. It would be even better if this incident leads to the creation of online personal information protection laws.”
Yoo Jae-won nodded, appearing understanding. Though Fox News had reported it sensationally, having the personal information issue appear in the news once wasn’t necessarily bad. After all, it was no exaggeration to say that ID Technology’s products possessed the strongest security levels in the software industry. If anything, it would be preferable for the personal information issue to grow large enough that personal information protection laws were established early on the internet, preventing chaos when the internet became mainstream.
“Yes. However, things in this world don’t always flow positively. Even though I’m quite removed from the field, I belong to the CIA, so I hear quite a lot. Some of it concerns you and your business. According to the rumors, this matter doesn’t seem likely to die down easily. It appears certain forces who dislike you think they’ve finally found leverage.”
Yoo Jae-won fell into thought. Forces that disliked him. When he considered how many people had suffered losses due to ID Group’s rise, the number was staggering. As ID Group had grown, so had the complexity of the interests involved.
“But don’t worry. Since you showed us consideration, we will demonstrate our sincerity in return.”
Yoo Jae-won had no idea what form that sincerity would take. Still, when someone offered to show sincerity, it was difficult to refuse.
“Thank you.”
Thus, Yoo Jae-won and John McMahon concluded their agreement, and a detailed contract was immediately prepared. The main points were that the big-data search engine would be installed at CIA Headquarters in Langley for twenty million dollars without a single dollar of discount. Additionally, ID Technology would actively cooperate in the CIA’s operation of the big-data search engine, and new estimates would be prepared if performance improvements or tuning were desired. There was one caveat: the contract would remain confidential until the government made the first public announcement. Given the current sensitive climate surrounding personal information, Yoo Jae-won readily agreed, uncertain what would happen if the CIA’s adoption of the big-data search engine became known.
Having successfully concluded a major business deal after a long time, Yoo Jae-won returned home. The first thing he did was remove the neatly tailored suit he had worn to meet the CIA Science and Technology Director and toss it into the laundry basket. It was comfortable because it was custom-made, but it was nothing like casual wear. After changing into comfortable clothes for home, Yoo Jae-won went straight to his study and flopped down. Turning on the computer with his toes had become as natural as a passive skill.
As expected, alarms poured in the moment the computer powered on.
“Huh?”
Today, however, something unusual caught his eye. Most of the messages Yoo Jae-won received were internal company reports.
“It’s from Korea.”
The email that had just opened had come from Korea. It wasn’t a report from Korean executives, nor was it from the Korean intelligence team. It wasn’t from Grandfather Jeon Myeong-heon either.
“What could this person want?”
The sender’s name displayed was Oh Myung, former Minister of Communications and currently Chairman of the Daejeon Expo Organizing Committee.