"Tanner, what's the latest from Afghanistan?"
"It's all in shambles. The resistance is operating in the border regions, and the Russians seem to have no solutions."
"These idiots are spending billions every year; are they just buying vodka?"
"Ha, sir, it's just as bad here in America. If it were switched around, it would probably be worse."
William White had no counterargument. In those days, if one mentioned soldiers, they would immediately think of rich kids in the military. Whenever war was mentioned, aside from arms dealers, everyone else felt nervous.
"The Russians' way of doing things will eventually collapse them. Is it worth it for such a godforsaken place?"
It seemed like they were on the verge of collapse. Should he cash in on that?
William White was scheming, while a Hollywood screenwriter was busy writing the script for First Blood.
The opening line was: "This film is dedicated to the brave Afghan people."
There was nothing wrong with that sentiment; opposing aggression was always right.
"Tanner, focus on the Russians; don't bother with Afghanistan. That place is just sand."
"Okay, master."
"They should be relatively poor, unable to guarantee even basic living supplies. Isn't the French rooster on good terms with them? Just register a company there."
"After that drill, they seemed to have dipped a bit. They're still better than America though. Master, what kind of company do you want to set up?"
"Art collection. Money doesn't play a huge role; they need daily necessities more."
"Got it, I'll arrange it right away."
...
"Darling, you really want me to make this movie?"
"Of course! Why wouldn't I? You're so stunning; how could I let someone else fight you?"
"Pfft! Who would dare fight me besides you?"
William White didn't mind; Sophie was cheerful today. Her role in this film was already better than the last.
"Hey, your last film was meant to change your screen image. Before that, you were just a kid."
The young beauty paused. She wasn't that naive. If they had thrown her into this film right off the bat, it would surely lead to trouble.
"Yeah, I know you're looking out for me."
"Let's just say thank you."
"What more do you want from me?"
"Stop, stop! If you twist my waist again, it'll break!"
After spending such a long time in Hollywood, she might not have extensive knowledge, but she had some common sense. Forget those small actors outside; even those she had rumored affairs with were envious.
...
"Andy, what do you think? What's the difference between this so-called GPU and our CPU?" Gordon Moore remarked while sipping coffee.
"Difference? There's definitely a difference. Motorola is deliberately avoiding our research direction. They're working on 2D graphic accelerator cards and researching 3D accelerator cards."
"If that's the case, we better steer clear of them."
"Gordon, at least for the short term. Their 6900 series is actually quite good. If IBM decides to partner with them, we'll be in a very awkward position."
"That clever kid doesn't want a second supplier?"
"His stance is quite firm. If the procurement department insists, they won't find any suppliers in America. I really like the term he used: mere manufacturers."
The two Intel founders of course appreciated that. They were in a tough spot due to AMD and were quite mad about it.
Having terminated their dynamic memory business, they certainly didn't need a second supplier. As the victim, AMD was also ready to flip the table.
What embarrassed Intel was that AMD's production management was superior. Whether it was quality or price, AMD actually had the upper hand.
Motorola had more at stake; their CPUs were no worse than Intel's, and the prices were similar. AMD was the real thorn, as it offered slightly better performance at a better price. Most absurdly, it was also called 386.
To be honest, if Intel were to develop graphic accelerator cards, William White would immediately rename the 6900 packaging to 386. There was no shame in business as far as William was concerned.
...
William White wasn't worried about company matters. He was currently very concerned about the upcoming year. It was shaping up to be a turbulent time, with the Russian nuclear power plant collapse and the U.S. apparently having a run-in with Gaddafi.
Of course, it wasn't without benefits. The Japanese had their wallets bursting, and starting this year, they would begin purchasing everything around the globe.
William White finished his script in his study. Although there were no beautiful distractions, he lived quite comfortably.
There were two knocks at the door, and William White felt curious about who would disturb him at this hour.
"Come in. Hey, Tanner, what's up?"
"Master, the space shuttle went down. Our satellite program might be delayed."
William White felt a bit dazed; he seemed to have forgotten a very important historical event.
"The Challenger?"
"Yeah."
"Could you hang on for a sec?"
To him, NASA's management was terrible. Even if nothing happened this time, problems were bound to arise eventually. They knew it was too cold to launch, yet they went ahead anyway; that was serious negligence, beyond help.
"Barry, did you catch the news?"
"Yes."
"Forget everything else, the program needs to take on a mournful tone. Pause entertainment shows for three days."
"Got it."
Decisions like this fell solely on him; no one else could take the reins. William White's media outlets responded quickly, pulling all entertainment sections.
In just one day, over 85% of Americans learned about the tragedy. In terms of timeliness, this news could rival the outbreak of World War II.
Most importantly, among the crew who perished were women and a teacher. In emotional terms, astronauts were roughly equivalent to soldiers; while there was sorrow, it wasn't the kind that sent people into despair.
Many underestimated the impact of this incident. Because of this accident, manned space exploration in the U.S. was paused for a long time. NASA underwent a complete overhaul, with nearly all of the dead weight laid off.
*****
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