Chương 110: Book 5 - Chapter 5 A

A few days later I received a call from a young eager investigative reporter who was hoping to break the story on the Rabi Council.

"Hello, Dr Cook? This is Eli Daniels, with Time Magazine. Thank you for making time for this call. Our team just finished processing the thousands of photos and notes from your trip to the Pacific and we are prepping the cover story. The images are incredible—especially the contrast between the private jet and the airstrip at Tarawa. Can you walk me through the trip?

Specifically, what was the mood like in the meetings in Fiji, and what was your immediate impression of the Banaban community when you finally arrived on the island?"

"It was a long flight, but the company of the Fijian ambassador and his wife made it very enjoyable. It is the first long trip I've made in the new plane and it definitely made it a pleasant trip. The Rabi Council knew I was coming, and had the determined air of wise elders. I was only there because I met James Taiki at the Seoul Olympics and he told me about the history of his people.

"When I compared the most recent photographs of the island to some that were taken by the Royal Australian Air Force in 1945 I saw little but the same bleak desolation. When I arrived at the lush tropical paradise of Rabi and compared it to Banaba, I decided I'd offer enough money to encourage them to give up on that tiny barren desert island. I was hopeful they would accept and focus on a sustainable future where they were. Sometimes we just have to leave the past behind before we can move forward."

Eli paused, clearly organizing his notes.

"That's a striking image, Doctor—contrasting the 'barren desert island' with the paradise of Rabi. This takes us directly to the purchase price. The public figures indicate you paid $60 million for Banaba, that is a surprising figure for six kilometers of barren wasteland in the middle of the Pacific. Was it purely philanthropic, or do you expect to get a return on your investment?" I considered carefully how I was going to answer the question.

"I actually like the original name, and hope to change it back to Ocean Island. I know I overpaid for the island. The estimated value of the tiny bit of phosphate remaining is somewhere around $25 million. The Japanese company I hired is bringing in topsoil in exchange for the remaining ore, so it is not a cash transaction.

"Still, that translates to about 250, 000 tons of topsoil. That is only about 60 acres, not even enough for half of the island. Adding in my graphene felt filtration technology to provide water is an intriguing restoration project. The scientific value of learning how to restore an ecosystem like this is applicable around the world." The reporter paused, clearly making connections to my other ventures.

"Dr Cook, you've developed American Wireless, your balloon wireless cable company, which is known for covering large geographic areas. Ocean Island's remote equatorial location—central to the Pacific—seems perfectly suited for a major, unencumbered broadcast or communications relay base, perhaps free from the regulatory hurdles of other nations. Is the $35 million premium actually the cost of establishing a major, autonomous hub for your balloon wireless network?"

I smiled, realizing that he wouldn't understand the concept of mesh radio digital communications. I'd have to simplify it.

"I do hope to experiment with the next generation of balloon communication at the island, even if all I do is establish a two-way link between it and Tarawa. American Wireless, for all its undeniable success, was really only a proof of concept for the potential of balloon tower communication.

"Right now it takes days to get a message to the people I have there working on the island and more days to get a message back. It has to either be sent over the radio or passed by the monthly supply boat. Ocean Island also has the advantage that I can experiment with higher altitude balloons. The entire South Pacific is a void of modern communication technology and traditional cable communications are impractical when you consider the population size, ocean depths and distances involved."

The reporter's tone shifted, becoming more direct.

"That is a compelling vision, Doctor. It seems your purchase of Banaba—now Ocean Island—is a convergence of philanthropy, environmental remediation and strategic technological experimentation. Our readers will be very interested in this story.

"However, by acquiring the island and bringing it international attention, you've also exposed the unresolved issue of the Rabi Council's compensation funds. Our sources indicate that of the $10 million Australian dollars the British paid the Council in 1981, half—about $5 million AUD—is unaccounted for. Now the Rabi Council has an additional $60 million.

"What can you tell me about the Rabi Council's handling of those funds, and did this alleged corruption affect your negotiations for the island?"

"I don't know if that affected my negotiation. I know the names of some locals who expressed concern over what they saw as misappropriation and who worried the new windfall for the Rabi Islanders would face the same issue. Even though I overpaid, the purchase was completed and duly witnessed by officials from Fiji and Kiribati. I have no further business with the Rabi Council," I told him, again emphasizing the overpayment.

"I see," Mr Daniels responded.

"Thank you for your time, Dr Cook. This will make for a truly fascinating piece." I gave him the names of the islanders I had spoken to and he hung up. I'd established the narrative that I had overpaid, which was essential for blocking any future trouble from the Rabi Council. I was in Chicago for the first time in April, several weeks after the Time cover story hit newsstands, which had successfully framed my island purchase as an eccentric philanthropic and technological venture.

Now I was facing a far more formidable interview challenge: Oprah. The atmosphere backstage at the Harpo Studios at 1058 West Washington Boulevard was a whirlwind of energy, even before the show went live. I could hear the rhythmic applause and the distinctive powerful sound of the live studio band warming up the crowd. I sat patiently watching the monitor as the camera focused on the woman who had redefined daytime television.

She was beaming, looking directly into the camera filling the audience with her sheer presence.

"Welcome back Chicago! Welcome back world! We have an exciting and truly unbelievable guest today. He's a young man who has done more before the age of thirteen than most people do in three lifetimes! He stunned the world this past summer with seven gold Olympic wins and then went on to announce the start-up of the world's safest nuclear reactor.

He currently holds four Guinness Book of World Records, the highest recorded IQ and for being the youngest person to ever receive Bachelor's and Master's degrees and finally for being the world's youngest PhD. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"He created a process to purify water solving water shortages around the world in his home laboratory and yes you read the headlines—he recently purchased an island in the Pacific for sixty million dollars.

"He engineered the merger of the European car manufacturers who are achieving record profits with the new efficiency. He also was part of the largest media merger in US history. His American Wireless cable company is bringing high-tech television to even the farthest towns and his newest company OKBio has created a medical miracle growing bone marrow for patients needing transplants.

"Ladies and gentlemen we warmly welcome our youngest ever celebrity guest, the twelve-year-old Dr John Cook!" The audience roared, the band hit a high note, and I walked out to a burst of applause, shaking Oprah's hand as she ushered me to the famous overstuffed armchair. The interview questions didn't last long, instead she had video clips and pictures of my various achievements as well as interviews with people I had worked with. The one that was special to me was from Amber.

On the large screen behind us, the camera cut to Amber, her voice bright and full of life.

"I call him John the Genius. I'm his best friend from high school. He was there all of a few weeks but that was enough to know he was someone special. When I got sick with leukemia I sent him a letter. I knew he was heading to the Olympics so I waited until I saw him win on TV before I told him I was sick. I didn't want him worrying about me while he competed.

"The day after he got back he showed up with a team of expert doctors at my hospital who reviewed everything about my case and the problem I was having. I had a donor for bone marrow but not enough was available to finish treatment.

"So he hired a bunch of people and invented a whole new way to grow bone marrow. In about two months he created the technology that saved my life. During that time he kept visiting me almost every day, bringing me presents and making me laugh. He even brought me this 'magic mirror'," she said, holding it up.

"It doesn't reflect anything. You just look through it so when you ask it who cares about you, you can see the person in the hospital room who's there. He was always there.

"Imagine my shock to discover later when I was all better that it was made of manufactured diamond!" The camera swung back to Oprah, whose eyes were wide with genuine emotion. She took a deep meaningful breath, leaning toward me and the audience.

"Oh John," she said, her voice dropping to a warm empathetic tone that pulled the entire audience in.

"She's pretty special to you, isn't she? That is just the most beautiful most personal story. It usually means something when a guy gives a girl a big diamond."

"She is the president of my fan club," I joked. With a smile I reached into a pocket, pulling out an empty diamond pebble, handing it to her.

"Here, you're pretty special too," I told her. The astonishment on her face was priceless, but my next comment brought out her wonderful signature laugh.

"Don't worry, it's not a marriage proposal!" The audience thought that it was very funny and even as she laughed she gripped the large diamond tightly. She held it up for the cameras, showcasing the size.

"A tennis ball sized diamond! My goodness! Now, I guess this means you're ready to explain how your new nuclear reactor works?"

"I'd love to," I told her. I watched as stagehands wheeled out the demonstration prop. It was a miniature pebble-bed reactor made of Plexiglass so the audience could see the interior. I held up a prop pebble for the camera.

"This is a model of the ISPBR in Satsop, Washington. That stands for Intrinsically Safe Pebble-Bed Reactor." Oprah nodded, leaning forward in her chair.

"Intrinsically Safe. What does that mean for the folks at home, John?"

"It means we solved the two biggest dangers," I explained.

"The first danger from a reactor comes if radioactive material is released. In the new ISPBR, all the fissionables, that is the radioactive fuel, are permanently sealed inside these diamond pebbles, forever."

"And everyone knows, a diamond is forever," Oprah added, getting a laugh from the audience.

"Exactly," I agreed.

"The fuel in each pebble isn't enough to produce power alone, but when you bring the pebbles close together they react with each other through the diamond. That reaction generates heat, and that heat is then used to generate electricity." I started pulling balls from their box and dropping them into the empty demonstrator. Little graphene flake lights in the balls lit up brilliantly when they entered the chamber activated by a low-powered radio transmitter beneath it.

"See, once they gather together they start to generate heat."

"What about the cooling part?" Oprah asked, picking up on a key point.

"We all remember the terrifying images from Three Mile Island and Chernobyl." I held up a hand.

"That's the second danger we solved. Old reactors like Chernobyl used molten metal to take the heat from the reactor to boil the water. That was risky and inefficient. And most American reactors use pressurized water which can boil away causing pressure to build up and explode, which is what happened at Three Mile Island."

"So how do you cool it down?"

"The ISPBR reactor uses carbon dioxide, that's CO2, the same stuff you breathe out on a daily basis. The advantage of that is several. First, it is very good at carrying heat. Second, it is very good at not becoming radioactive inside the reaction chamber. And finally, because it's a gas, it can't boil away causing pressure to build up and explode." I demonstrated the ejection feature, and popped a pebble out of the machine.

"From time to time we automatically pop the pebbles out and check their health. If they're still good, we pop them back in. If they've grown weak then they get removed for storage and disposal," I said as I popped it back in the machine where it lit up again. Oprah pointed to the prop, addressing the audience directly.

"Now I know what all of you are thinking because I'm thinking it too: wait a minute, isn't that still dangerous nuclear waste?" There was agreement from the audience, so I continued.

"That's the other new feature of this reactor. It uses thorium. Unlike uranium that has a radioactive-lifetime of hundreds of thousands of years, thorium is only a few hundred. It's also much more abundant and best of all can't be used to build a nuclear bomb. We keep it in the diamond pebble so it has no opportunity to ever escape."

"And the safety?" she pressed.

"What if everything fails?"

"That's the final part that makes it intrinsically safe," I affirmed.

"The hotter the thorium gets, the less radiation is released. So even in the event of the loss of all the carbon dioxide which cools the reactor as it moves the heat from the reactor to the generator, it can't get hot enough to cause a meltdown." I reached over and hit the big red emergency button triggering a siren and a flashing red light. With a rapid rush, the pebbles all released into the kiddie pool underneath it, the light ceasing the moment they dropped from the plexiglass reactor chamber.

"But impossible to cause a meltdown is still not safe enough. In an emergency we can dump all the pebbles into a special underground chamber. Once out of the reaction chamber, they all spread out and aren't close enough to each other anymore to keep the reaction going, rapidly cooling off. No other reactor in the world has this combination of safety features." The camera zoomed in to show that all the pebbles had lost their lights as they sat spread out in the kiddy pool.