aircannonsinc Chapter 282 Qualcomm
Chapter 282 Qualcomm
(Thanks to "崇宫竹道" for the amazing gift! Thank you for your support! I'll be adding an extra chapter today, and another long chapter will follow later~)
Times Square, Manhattan.
The summer thunderstorm had just stopped, and the air was still filled with lingering moisture.
The sweltering humidity rose from the ground, mixing with car exhaust and the smell of cooking oil from street hot dog stands, baking the street into an unbearable heat.
A black, extended armored sedan, escorted by two heavy black SUVs in front and behind, was parked on the side of the road, almost occupying the entire lane.
A dozen or so security personnel in black suits were positioned around the car and on the sidewalk. They stood silently, their hands clasped in front of them. Their imposing figures and cold gazes formed an invisible barrier.
As the crowded and noisy street crowds approached this area, they naturally retreated to both sides, creating a vacuum zone with a radius of several meters in the chaotic square.
In the very center of the vacuum zone, there was a mobile cart selling tourist souvenirs.
The cart was piled high with cheap postcards, plastic snowflakes, glass marbles, and various mass-produced metal pendants.
Satsuki, wearing a beige sleeveless dress, was squatting in front of the cart. Her eyes searched carefully among the crudely made handicrafts, her fingertips fiddling with a pile of metal keychains, and she muttered to herself.
"Hmm, no. This isn't ugly enough... What does 'ugly-cute' mean? What's the cute part?"
The stall owner was a middle-aged white man. He stood stiffly behind the cart, his hands gripping the edge of his apron, which was stained with grime.
To be honest, he never imagined in his life that someone like him would actually come to his stall to buy things; he had only ever seen such a scene in movies.
In movies, aren't NPCs like him usually key elements that trigger the plot? For example, if a gunman suddenly attacks, regardless of who his target is, the stall owner like him is bound to die first—because he's standing right in the middle!
He tried his best to control his facial muscles, forcing a fawning smile onto his face, his eyes fixed on the girl squatting in front of the cart.
"Found it."
Satsuki paused for a moment, then picked out two Statue of Liberty keychains.
The paint on the metal surface completely overflowed the boundaries, and the goddess's eyes were uneven, one big and one small, giving off a comical ugliness.
Do Japanese people really like these kinds of ugly things? (She's half Japanese.)
Satsuki stood up and held the keychain in her palm.
Fujita immediately stepped forward, took out a crisp hundred-dollar bill from the inside pocket of his suit, and handed it over with both hands.
Satsuki took the dollar bill from Fujita and placed it on the counter of the cart.
"Ah...Miss, you..."
"Keep the change, please."
She left a message in fluent English, put the keychain into her handbag, and left behind the NPC who hadn't triggered any plot developments.
Fujita stood beside him, bowing slightly and speaking in a very low voice.
"Miss, the flight route and airspace clearance to Houston, Texas have been confirmed, and we are ready to take off at any time."
Satsuki nodded and was about to turn and walk toward the bulletproof car parked by the roadside.
Just then, a few meters outside the edge of the vacuum zone, a burst of violent cursing suddenly erupted.
A stockbroker in a pinstripe suit is holding up an extremely bulky Motorola "big brother" phone and yelling into the microphone.
Due to severe congestion at the Lower Manhattan Analog Signal Base Station (AMPS) and electromagnetic interference after the rain, the call was interrupted by a piercing static noise.
"Damn analog channel! Busy again!" The agent slammed his fist on his brick-like phone in frustration, yelling at his colleague beside him, "When is the FCC finally going to roll out TDMA digital networks across the board? This piece of junk is completely unusable in downtown!"
Satsuki stopped in her tracks.
Her gaze passed through the gaps in the security personnel and landed on the bulky cell phone with a terrible signal.
Upon hearing the term "TDMA," her gaze paused slightly.
The capacity of analog signals has reached its physical limit, and the entire United States is now betting on TDMA.
By the way, that company is still in its early stages, right?
Satsuki's lips curled into a smile.
Looks like there's dessert to enjoy.
Let's also test whether my acting skills have deteriorated.
"Cancel the trip to Texas."
"Send Frank on a business trip to Houston to sign the contract for me."
"At the same time, SA Investment's New York headquarters immediately sent a formal letter of invitation to Qualcomm in San Diego, California, to schedule a top-level business meeting."
Fujita took out his notebook from his pocket and quickly made notes.
The agenda item is: the commercialization of CDMA technology in the Japanese market.
……
San Diego, California.
The June sun poured down unhindered onto the low-rise R&D buildings of Sorrento Valley Technology Park, scorching the off-white exterior walls with a dazzling reflection.
Far from the hustle and bustle of Silicon Valley, this area boasts low rents and is home to a cluster of startups yet to be validated by the capital markets. Qualcomm's offices are tucked away on the second floor of one of these buildings.
The meeting room was temporarily tidied up to prepare for today's hard-won business meeting.
The oscilloscopes and bundles of coaxial cables that had been piled up in the corner were hastily put on the iron rack by the wall, making room just enough for a long walnut conference table. The air conditioner compressor ran quietly, barely suppressing the summer heat seeping in from outside.
Founder Irwin Jacobs, wearing a fine light blue shirt, sat at the head of the long conference table.
Sitting beside him were Dr. Andrew Viterbi and Harvey White, who was in charge of business operations.
Although Irving Jacobs and Victor Wright recently sold their first company, Linkabit, for a large sum of money, these theoretically "financially free" millionaires are instead crammed into a rented industrial park, risking their entire fortune on a "crazy technology" that is ridiculed worldwide, and even worrying about next month's research and development funding.
This is Qualcomm in 1990. Unlike the top global semiconductor and wireless communications giant it would become, it was just an infant at that time—it wasn't even publicly listed yet.
The wooden door to the conference room was gently pushed open.
Satsuki walked in, and Fujita followed half a step behind her.
Jacobs and the other two stood up almost simultaneously.
Their gazes faltered for a moment as they fell upon the newcomer—they had considered all sorts of possibilities, but none had anticipated that SA Investment's representative would be such a young Asian girl. Her almost unnaturally youthful face created a stark contrast with the massive investment proposal that had been faxed over beforehand.
But Jacobs quickly recovered from his surprise. Decades of academic training and his current urgent thirst for capital did not allow him to hesitate for even half a second.
"Ms. Saionji. Welcome to Qualcomm."
Jacobs extended his right hand.
Satsuki stepped forward and shook hands with the three founders in turn.
"Mr. Jacobs, Dr. Witby, Mr. White. I've heard so much about you."
Satsuki responded gently in fluent English.
Both parties took their seats.
Satsuki sat upright in a chair opposite the long table. She did not immediately throw out her chips, her gaze calmly sweeping over the three people opposite her.
The eyes of these key figures in the telecommunications industry were bloodshot, and their expressions revealed an undisguised weariness and defensiveness.
"Three gentlemen."
Satsuki placed her hands together on the table, her voice echoing in the quiet meeting room.
"I canceled my trip to Texas to sign an oil field agreement today and changed my route to San Diego instead. This is because the Saionji family fully recognizes the underlying potential of CDMA technology."
She gazed at the three founders in front of her.
"I am also aware that Qualcomm's current financial situation is not very good. Instead of wasting precious time on mutual probing and politeness, it would be better to come directly to see the sincerity brought by the Saionji family."
She turned her head slightly and nodded to Fujita Tsuyoshi beside her.
Fujita stepped forward and opened his black briefcase. He took out a copy of a large cash promissory note bearing the seal of Chase Manhattan Bank, and an official document from Saionji Information System (SIS) regarding Japan's "Type II Telecommunications License".
The two documents were laid out flat on the meeting table.
"SA Investments can immediately provide tens of millions of dollars in pure cash bridge funding."
Satsuki looked at them.
"This funding is sufficient to support Qualcomm in completing the physical research and development of the next-generation communication standard."
"At the same time, the Saionji family is willing to open up Shinjuku and Shibuya wards in Tokyo to provide the world's first large-scale commercial test base station cluster for CDMA."
What Qualcomm lacks most right now is not the perfection of its theories, but a testing ground where those theories can be put into practice and successfully implemented.
Without base stations, everything is just empty talk.
Now, a huge amount of funding and the long-awaited physical testing ground are both placed before them.
White's gaze darted back and forth between the bank draft and the telecommunications license several times, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly. He tried to maintain a professional composure, but his hand, clenched unconsciously under the table, tightened involuntarily.
Funding plus a physical network—these happen to be the two most critical pieces of Qualcomm's puzzle right now.
Jacobs and Wittby, sitting on either side of White, reacted much more cautiously. Neither scholar rushed to comment; Wittby narrowed her eyes slightly, scrutinizing the young woman opposite her with the gaze one would use to examine a dissertation defense candidate.
Capital is offered to them on such generous terms—in their experience, this often means that the other party wants far more than it appears.