Date to Disneyland

Technopia 1993

“Oops, the exams aren’t over yet, are they? This won’t do.”

Yoo Jae-won had reached for the receiver with gusto, only to set it back down with a glum expression. It occurred to him that it was still exam season; calling now would only be a nuisance. Though they hadn’t spoken on the phone in ages, they still exchanged the occasional ID Talk message. He suddenly remembered how their recent chats had ended awkwardly with short, one-word replies because of exams. She seemed to be under quite a bit of pressure about her grades. Between the electric bicycle and the clothes and accessories she usually wore, her family clearly wasn’t short on money, so it wasn’t about scholarships. The pressure was probably coming from her own personality—or perhaps her parents.

“Then the day after tomorrow should be fine.”

With extra time on his hands, Yoo Jae-won reviewed the date itinerary once more, scrutinizing every detail as though he were designing a library reserved exclusively for experts and refusing to tolerate even the slightest error. Two days passed like that. It was as if the heavens themselves were helping; nothing unusual happened in the meantime. The security challenge proceeded smoothly, and New Egg PC—the designated target—never once malfunctioned or crashed despite attacks from around the world. Naturally, it also withstood the hackers’ fierce assaults. A few lucky ones managed to reach the remote login screen after considerable effort, only to be met with the intimidating message “Blocked” after a single wrong entry.

Remington, who had gone to Langley, reported that the final negotiations were progressing smoothly. The main points of contention included which organization the maintenance personnel would belong to, who would cover their labor costs, and setting price guidelines in advance for when the big-data search engine’s performance needed expansion. Unlike private companies, the CIA operated with a predetermined budget and therefore required reference data for planning. In response, Yoo Jae-won proposed an extremely simple guideline: system price would be proportional to the number of CPUs. The system the CIA had just contracted for twenty million dollars used one thousand CPUs. Therefore, adding another thousand CPUs for performance expansion would cost another twenty million dollars. Ordering ten thousand CPUs would run two hundred million, and scaling up to one hundred thousand would reach two billion. It was simple enough for an elementary-school student to calculate. There were no discounts for bulk orders, no matter how large the numbers. According to Remington, Director McMahon had grumbled quite a bit about it. Still, he ought to consider himself fortunate that the price didn’t multiply with every additional CPU. After all, computers weren’t coal-fired power plants; simply throwing in more units didn’t automatically increase performance. The very technology that linked individual computers into a cloud system to boost overall capability was extraordinary. The more systems that had to be connected, the more difficult network configuration and cloud software setup became. That was why cloud systems were currently the most advanced technology only ID Technology could provide. The CIA was in no position to walk away from the negotiation just because they disliked Yoo Jae-won’s terms. In the end, Director McMahon had no choice but to acknowledge there was no alternative and sign the contract, which included one year of free maintenance from ID Technology, after which the CIA would assume responsibility for any issues.

Upon receiving the flawless contract via fax, Yoo Jae-won immediately requested bulk-order quotes from Intel, AMD, and Cyrix. He planned to order fourteen thousand top-tier HPC Class CPUs and asked them to submit reasonable prices. One thousand would go into the CIA’s big-data search engine, twelve thousand of the remaining thirteen thousand would be installed in the data center on the East Coast, and the last thousand would be assembled into custom systems for the developers. Intel, AMD, and even Cyrix—the third CPU manufacturer—had already sent CPUs for HPC certification, so Yoo Jae-won had a clear understanding of each chip’s performance. The key issue was price. If the price was right, he intended to place a large order regardless of manufacturer preconceptions. The only unsettling factor was that none of the three companies had yet confirmed a release date for their HPC-certified CPUs. Even though they understood that speed was life, the lack of a set date suggested the Coppermine process had not yet stabilized enough for mass production. Still, all three had indicated they would make special accommodations for Yoo Jae-won, so securing fourteen thousand units shouldn’t be a problem.

Yoo Jae-won next placed orders for fourteen thousand HPC motherboards with Mirae Electronics and Taiwan’s ASUS. If he had been concerned only with margins, he would have chosen a budget manufacturer like ECS, but since these boards were destined for large-scale systems, build quality took priority. He also added a custom request that the motherboards come pre-equipped with the USB expansion ports being developed by ID Technology’s semiconductor division. Thanks to these special orders, the cost was roughly double what it would have been at the lowest possible price, yet it was still a profitable deal.

Having finished everything he needed to do, Yoo Jae-won called Tiffany the day after exams ended, at a time when she was likely to be home. The phone connected before ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the first ring had even finished. There was no need to ask for Tiffany; the call went straight to her.

“Disneyland? Oh my gosh!”

Tiffany’s reaction was immediate and completely genuine. The sound of her jumping up and down in excitement came through the receiver loud and clear.

“Of course I want to go! When are we going? Tomorrow?”

“Ah, tomorrow’s a bit tight. How about July 5th?”

“Next Monday?”

“Yeah. Weekdays should have fewer people, right?”

Though a world-famous landmark like Disneyland wouldn’t be deserted even on a weekday, it would still be better than the weekend. Besides, he hadn’t made any reservations yet for flights or tickets. The plan had been perfect, but it could still fall through depending on how the call with Tiffany went.

“Got it! So what time on Monday, and where should I meet you?”

Tiffany’s questions were very specific—typical of an engineering student.

“The earlier the better. It takes some time to fly to LA, after all.”

“Then eight o’clock! I can’t wake up any earlier than that. I’m kind of a heavy sleeper.”

“All right. I’ll pick you up at your place at eight on the fifth. By the way, where do you live?”

The call ended with the decision that he would pick her up at eight in the morning at her house. A small smile lingered on Yoo Jae-won’s face. He had worried she might react childishly to the idea of an amusement park. With memories spanning a long previous life, he naturally had some dating experience, though most of it consisted of embarrassing moments that made him cringe whenever they resurfaced. He would have erased them if he could, but unfortunately, his perfect memory had no delete function. In any case, planning dates had always been difficult in his past life. After talking with Tiffany, however, his worries proved completely unfounded.

July 5th arrived quickly. He hadn’t lost sleep from excitement like an elementary-school student before a field trip. He had taken care of company matters in between and had already contacted his parents and acquaintances in Korea to let them know he would be returning briefly. Naturally, many people wanted to see him. His former professors were no exception, and former Prime Minister Jeon Myeong-heon had also arranged a separate meeting. He woke up early as usual, showered thoroughly, and ate a simple breakfast. If he had turned on his computer, it would have been an ordinary day, but instead he went to the dressing room and spent a long time choosing an outfit. Calling the stylist he used for company events would have solved the problem easily, but inviting them for a simple date felt like overkill, so he picked the best option he could find on his own.

As expected, Yoo Jae-won chose something casual. There was no way he could wear a suit to an amusement park. Besides, July in LA reached a maximum of only about twenty-four degrees Celsius, so comfortable clothing posed no problem. He finished his outfit with jeans, a short-sleeved knit shirt, a messenger bag, and his wallet. When he stepped outside, his bodyguards and drivers, Ken Fisher and Greg Wyler, were waiting in front of the car. Enjoying a private date with Tiffany would have been nice, but safety came first. Yoo Jae-won’s face was already fairly well known, especially in California, where he was practically a celebrity. After the Unabomber incident, he could easily get caught up in something unexpected, so having bodyguards was not optional—it was essential.

“Please take good care of me today as well.”

Yoo Jae-won bowed politely, and the two bodyguards returned a respectful salute. Greg then took the driver’s seat while Fisher opened the rear door for Yoo Jae-won. Moments later, the car carrying the three men glided smoothly away.

At 7:57 a.m., Yoo Jae-won arrived in front of Tiffany’s house. As expected, it was located in Sausalito, one of San Francisco’s most prestigious neighborhoods. The name meant “willow village” in Spanish; it was a resort town north of the Golden Gate Bridge. Tiffany had apparently been living in a house near Stanford like Yoo Jae-won but had returned home after finals. True to its reputation as an affluent area, the scenery was strikingly different. Beyond the Golden Gate Bridge, beautiful houses dotted the hills, and a marina filled with yachts stretched out in front of them. These weren’t the massive luxury yachts favored by Middle Eastern billionaires, but smaller vessels for hobbyists—each still worth hundreds of millions of won. Tiffany’s home was one of the larger mansions in Sausalito. It wasn’t a grand estate with extensive gardens, however; the road ran right up to the front door.

“Hi!”

Thanks to the convenient layout, Tiffany appeared the moment Yoo Jae-won’s car stopped, looking fresh and bright. She wore a flowing pastel sky-blue dress with no pattern—exactly the kind of outfit that matched Yoo Jae-won’s taste. Since he happened to be wearing a sky-blue knit shirt as well, they looked perfectly coordinated. His hand, which had been waving cheerfully, froze for a moment when he noticed the middle-aged woman stepping out with Tiffany. The resemblance was so strong that anyone could tell she was Tiffany’s mother.

“This is my mom, Marina Pink. And this is Jae-won.”

Tiffany quickly introduced the woman. Pink was certainly an unusual surname. Did that mean Tiffany’s full name was Tiffany Pink? In America, married women took their husband’s surname.

“Hello! I’m Yoo Jae-won.”

Yoo Jae-won offered a polite greeting, bowing at the waist in the Korean style.

“Nice to meet you. Tiffany has told me a lot about you.”

After the greeting, Marina extended her hand for a handshake. Yoo Jae-won quickly wiped his hand and shook hers lightly.

“Mike would have loved to meet you, but he’s away on a business trip. What a shame.”

Yoo Jae-won had found it a little odd that only Marina had come out. Tiffany had mentioned that her father thought well of him, so he had hoped to meet him in person this time. A business trip was unfortunate.

“Big Boss, please take good care of our Tiffany.”

That was the extent of Marina’s request. He hadn’t expected her to brandish a shotgun like in internet memes, but he had at least anticipated a warning about bringing her daughter home on time. Instead, that was all. It also made him curious about what her parents did for a living. Even though Yoo Jae-won had arrived in a luxury car with two bodyguards, Marina showed no particular reaction. Instead, she had casually used his school nickname, which felt more unusual.

With Marina seeing them off, Yoo Jae-won ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and Tiffany ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠got into the car and headed for the airport. The drive was smooth.

“Please wear these.”

When they arrived at the gate and were about to get out, Fisher, sitting in the passenger seat, handed something over. They were large, round-lensed sunglasses—the kind nicknamed “Boeing sunglasses.” There were two pairs.

“Hehe, I guess this is a must when hanging out with a celebrity. Thanks!”

Tiffany accepted them immediately and put them on. Yoo Jae-won took his pair with a slightly reluctant expression. The gray tint darkened his vision a little, but since the sunlight was strong, it wasn’t a major issue. Finding their reserved tickets and passing through security went quickly. With time to spare before departure, they waited in the VIP lounge. The conversation between Yoo Jae-won and Tiffany flowed naturally—covering recent finals, issues frequently mentioned in the media, and their shared interest in computers. Still, brief moments of silence were inevitable. During one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠such pause, Tiffany stood up and walked over to a newsstand in the lounge to buy a magazine.

“What’s that?”

In answer to Yoo Jae-won’s question, Tiffany showed him the cover. It was a popular weekly filled mostly with advertisements and light, sometimes half-false gossip. Such magazines would disappear in the internet age, but right now they were at the height of their popularity.

The cover story struck a chord with Yoo Jae-won’s interests. The timing was perfect—public curiosity about hackers had exploded after the security challenge, and the magazine had responded with timely content.

“It’ll be boring on the plane. And it wouldn’t be polite to chatter the whole time. Want to read it too?”

Even though she was an engineering student, Tiffany was still a woman at heart. A gossip magazine suited her.

“Hmm, I’ve got this.”

Yoo Jae-won held up his Shell Book slightly. If he was going to read something, he might as well work on the Shell Book.

“United Airlines Flight UA441 from San Francisco to Los Angeles is now boarding.”

The boarding announcement came at just the right moment. Yoo Jae-won, Tiffany, and the two bodyguards headed for the gate. Although the San Francisco–LA route was popular and the morning flight was crowded, the VIP group boarded quickly. As soon as Yoo Jae-won sat down, he set up his Shell Book. The flight to LA took less than two hours, but there was still plenty he could get done. Tiffany opened the magazine she had bought in the lounge and began reading.

A few minutes later, the plane took off on schedule, and the seatbelt sign turned off. Yoo Jae-won powered on his Shell Book. In the twenty-first century, using a computer before takeoff wouldn’t be an issue, but the sensitive electronic equipment on current aircraft made it wiser to comply when asked to turn devices off.

“Huh? Jae-won! Look at this—there’s a story about you!”

Just as he was settling in to work, Tiffany, who had been reading the magazine, suddenly grew excited. He assumed it was another mention of the security challenge he had hosted, but he was wrong. The article inside completely defied his expectations.

“Redhack really hacked your computer?”

Surprisingly, the embarrassing email incident was recorded in the magazine. It was part of an interview the publication had conducted with the hacker nicknamed Redhack, who was featured on the cover. Redhack was proudly boasting that he had hacked the ID Group chairman’s PC and given him quite a shock.