The Langley Expansion
The reason for his trip to Langley in this 21st-century technopia was exactly what one would expect: the big data search engine setup. It was a task only Yoo Jae-won could perform anywhere in the world, and that fact had not changed. The core algorithm behind the engine was pure over-technology—something that rightfully belonged a decade in the future. Had he not been targeted by the Unabomber, he never would have unveiled the system so early. He still had no idea why his name had appeared on that madman’s list, but capturing the bomber had left him no choice but to deploy it. The U.S. government, of course, had not failed to recognize its value. After lengthy discussions, the engine was delivered to the CIA.
The initial system supplied to them had been a cloud computing cluster of one thousand nodes. After Yoo Jae-won personally configured the big data search engine, the entire package had been priced at twenty million dollars. He had no idea how the CIA had operated it since then, but judging by their track record, they had put it to very effective use. After all, several high-value international terrorists with massive bounties on their heads had been apprehended during that period.
In movies and other media, the CIA was often portrayed as the very definition of bureaucratic incompetence. In reality, it was one of the most capable intelligence organizations on the planet—worlds apart from Korea’s National Intelligence Service, whose officials grew fat and loud while never leaving the comfort of their offices.
The agency’s satisfaction with the big data search engine had apparently triggered an explosion of internal demand. That demand had now translated into an order to expand the computing power to three hundred thousand nodes. In monetary terms, it was a staggering six-billion-dollar project. The price per CPU had been set at twenty thousand dollars; multiplied across three hundred thousand units, the total came to exactly six billion. Not a single dollar of discount had been offered.
Cloud computing systems had become commonplace. Many IT companies besides ID Technology could now supply them. Traditional giants like IBM, HP, and Dell were all capable of assembling such clusters. But the big data search engine was a program no one else could provide. Naturally, the CIA had made every effort to expand the system on their own without involving Yoo Jae-won. Twenty thousand dollars per CPU was a painful sum even for them.
In the end, they had concluded it was impossible without him and agreed to pay full price for the expansion. “America really is incredible,” Yoo Jae-won muttered to himself. A project of this scale would have been impossible for most countries to award through a private contract. Six billion dollars was an astronomical figure. Yet the CIA had made it happen.
For Yoo Jae-won, there was nothing to complain about. The profit margin exceeded fifty percent. Server-grade components with proven stability were extremely expensive, and this delivery incorporated large quantities of those premium parts. Even so, the margin remained enormous. Under normal circumstances, such a lucrative deal would require spreading some “grease” around, but that was unnecessary here.
This project formed the core of the Prism Project—a comprehensive digital network monitoring system. The Prism Project itself was classified at the highest level; even within the U.S. Congress, which controlled the budget, only a handful of members were aware of its existence. Diverting funds as kickbacks would have meant violating secrecy oaths. At the same time, the deal served as America’s love call to Yoo Jae-won, a clear demonstration that aligning with U.S. national interests would bring substantial rewards.
Yoo Jae-won had no intention of turning toward any other country, but the senior officials at the CIA needed to eliminate even the slightest variables. Spending six billion dollars to both enhance the big data search engine’s performance and secure his loyalty was therefore no waste at all.
“It’s been a while,” John McMahon said, greeting Yoo Jae-won upon his arrival at Langley.
“Yes, it has. And congratulations on your promotion to Deputy Director,” Yoo Jae-won replied warmly.
A few years earlier, John McMahon had been Director of the Office of Technical Service. Now he carried the higher title of Deputy Director. The promotion had occurred several weeks ago, so the congratulations were slightly late, but not awkward. Within the CIA, the position of Deputy Director carried special weight. The Director’s seat was highly political—often awarded to outsiders through presidential patronage. The Deputy Director, however, rose through internal ranks, a position that reflected proven ability, organizational control, and tangible results.
“Haha, it’s all thanks to Chairman Yoo,” John McMahon said, once again crediting him.
In the original timeline, the deputy directorship would have gone to someone else. But John McMahon’s decisive introduction of the big data search engine had led to numerous intelligence victories, dramatically raising his internal standing. Knowing full well that his promotion owed much to Yoo Jae-won, the gratitude came naturally.
“That is why our expectations for this project are extremely high.”
“Of course. You can count on me. Don’t worry.”
America was a country that spent trillions of dollars on defense—enough to earn it the nickname “Empire of a Thousand Trillion.” It had now decided to pour equally enormous resources into the Prism Project. Money was never an issue when it came to national security, but whether the system would actually perform was another matter entirely. John McMahon needed the system to deliver the promised performance before he could walk tall while advocating for its full-scale adoption.
“Then let’s get started. I’ll configure it right away.”
Once again, Yoo Jae-won went straight to business. The surest way to eliminate anxiety was through proof. The hardware had already been installed; all that remained was the final configuration.
“Understood. This way, please.”
John McMahon guided him to a classified location, thinking, As expected of Chairman Yoo. They entered a vast underground chamber where rack-mounted servers taller than an adult formed a metallic forest.
Three days later.
“Whew. Finally finished.”
Configuring a one-thousand-node system had taken only a few hours. Scaling it to three hundred thousand nodes had required three full days.
“You’ve worked hard,” John McMahon said. He had stayed awake the entire time, standing beside Yoo Jae-won. The words came out automatically.
It was only natural. Yoo Jae-won had entered the classified facility with nothing but his own body. He could have brought a pre-made program from outside and installed it, but that would have required disclosing source code and lengthy verification processes. Instead, he had willingly undertaken the labor of programming everything on-site, just as he had done before. It was tedious, but for a six-billion-dollar contract, it was entirely worth it.
Fortunately, the base work on the cloud computing system had already been completed. The CIA had thoroughly vetted the programming tools and libraries, and the original one-thousand-node version of the big data search engine was already installed. Yoo Jae-won’s task had been to connect three hundred thousand additional nodes to maximize computational power.
There had been further work as well—applying all the feedback the CIA had gathered during operation and performing a version upgrade. That much had been part of their requirements. Yoo Jae-won, however, had thrown in an extra favor.
“From now on, you’ll be able to remotely access the big data search engine from field locations for support.”
It was a remote access service. The feature was not intended for field agents themselves, but for the operations centers that supported them at close range. In rapidly changing situations, optimal decision-making required accurate information, yet the CIA’s existing systems had struggled to keep up. In recent spy films, characters routinely pulled up real-time CCTV footage using a single hard-won photograph. In reality, that had been nearly impossible. Analyzing video to identify suspects with similar faces demanded immense computational power.
Now it had become feasible. Naturally, it required data linkage between CCTV systems and the servers, but the addition of three hundred thousand nodes had elevated the big data search engine’s capabilities to an entirely different dimension compared to its one-thousand-node predecessor.
“I can hardly believe it even watching from right beside you,” John McMahon said, shaking his head in awe.
Linking three hundred thousand computers into a single system, optimizing the big data search engine’s performance—Yoo Jae-won had done it all alone. The computer engineers in the CIA’s Office of Technical Service had declared it impossible. They had even placed bets on when he would finally give up and request additional personnel. He had proven them wrong in spectacular fashion.
In truth, despite their expectations, the difficulty had actually been lower than before. The core algorithm of the big data search engine had not changed significantly. The time had mostly gone into migrating previous search data, efficiently clustering the three hundred thousand nodes, and upgrading the scheduler for optimal distributed processing.
With setup complete, only performance verification remained.
“Test it in operation and contact me if any problems arise,” Yoo Jae-won said, leaving the verification entirely to the CIA. Performance testing would take a long time, and his own time was too valuable. The E3 show was fast approaching, and he still had to unveil the Xbox. Its planned launch during the Thanksgiving season gave him a little breathing room, but the schedule remained tight. He had countless other critical tasks to oversee and could not afford to stay and monitor the testing process.
“I guarantee at least a two-hundred-fold performance increase. If it falls short, I will personally cover the difference at my own expense.”
The greatest drawback of parallel computing was that one plus one did not always equal two. Simply adding computers rarely doubled efficiency. It was the same reason many buyers of AMD’s hot new dual-core CPUs had been disappointed. Consumers expected game performance to double, yet most titles showed no dramatic improvement. In older games where clock speed mattered more, performance had even decreased. A few of ID Entertainment’s titles properly supported multi-core processors and saw some gains, but even those rarely reached double the performance.
The algorithm used by the big data search engine, however, was particularly well-suited for distributed processing and produced considerable synergy. A two-hundred-fold increase over the one-thousand-node system was something Yoo Jae-won could confidently guarantee.
“As always, your confidence is remarkable, Chairman Yoo.”
“It’s nothing. This is a system that will safeguard global security. I have to deliver at least that much.”
John McMahon nodded in agreement, particularly pleased by the phrase “safeguard global security.” His gaze drifted across the forest of rack servers that formed the cloud computing system. Its scale surpassed even the Department of Energy’s supercomputers, yet they could not boast of it to the public. It was a shame.
Yoo Jae-won felt the same. ID Technology’s own data centers were also built on cloud computing architecture. Combined, their total node count far exceeded one million. While ID Technology’s centers were distributed across the globe, the CIA’s big data search engine occupied an entire massive underground cavern. The sight filled him with quiet pride. Although the system was exclusively for CIA use, he had played the most critical role in its construction.
After successfully completing his East Coast business with the final stop at CIA headquarters in Langley, Yoo Jae-won immediately returned to his home in San Francisco. Unfortunately, after landing at San Francisco airport, he could not head straight home. A sudden meeting request from Yeong-sik had come in. The timing was remarkably inconvenient.
Yeong-sik, who practically worshipped Yoo Jae-won, had contacted him the moment the long-awaited results of his project emerged—just as he always did. In the past, Yoo Jae-won could have simply turned the car around. The problem was that Tiffany was waiting for him at home.
Even so, he could not ignore Yeong-sik’s call. This was not casual chatter; it belonged to a very official domain.
“Can’t be helped,” he sighed.
In the end, Yoo Jae-won had to call Tiffany and apologize. A short while later, the destination of the car carrying him changed from the warm home where Tiffany waited to the data center in Coyote City, located south of Silicon Valley.