Chương 113: Book 4 - Chapter 6 B

Using a rented boat, security took me out to the far northern point of the Tarawa atoll, to a property I had already purchased.

"Good news everybody!" I told the waiting construction crew.

"You can put up the balloon." The excavation work for the massive concrete anchor that the balloon attached to was nearly complete. Next to it a cinder block building was going up to hold the ground equipment. I walked over to the completed concrete pad where the techs were working to install a new satellite dish.

"You won't be able to make calls to the local numbers," the tech warned when I arrived. I gave him a brief handshake.

"I know. I've made the offer to buy Telecom Kiribati. Once we own it we can run a communications cable to the local phone exchange."

"That's going to be a big project, might take months," he said.

"Not that long, we wont take it down the islands, but along the beach on the interior of the atoll. I've got the cable and equipment coming already." He looked out from the relatively low high spot we were at, through the trees to the nearby beach.

"That would make it easier," he agreed. The work went fast and I enjoyed the local hotel and the surf near the balloon tower construction zone during high tides, or the causeway on days I didn't feel like taking an hour long boat ride to confirm everything was on schedule. When the launch day came the Beretitenti, the local term for the President, Ieremia Tabai, showed up for the balloon launch as well as much of the island's population.

That he chose to come to the north end of the island for the launch was a clear signal he was entertaining the idea. The local boats were gathered in a riot of colors and sizes, their hulls bobbing in the turquoise water, or dragged up onto the beach. The onlookers were excited, thanks to the local rumor mill, which was saying that I was going to give free phone service to everyone.

"Your Excellency, it is a pleasure to meet you," I said, shaking the man's hand for the first time. He was dressed in shorts and a striped shirt and was wearing sandals—a pragmatic outfit that matched his reputation. It was hard to hold back the warmth in my voice for someone who would become such a good friend. Not quite forty, he exuded the kind of strength that reminded me of my own Dad, not a head of state. He skipped the pleasantries.

"This is an interesting project, Dr Cook. I can see the benefit, but I worry that television from outside the islands will change our native culture."

"The solution of course is your own TV broadcasting network," I told him, looking up at his tall figure and lightly bearded Gilbertese face.

"But for now, communication is the priority." We turned to watch the first stage of the launch. The construction crew was running the cable for the highest balloon—the mesh network node—off the spool. This balloon was the largest, and already inflated, it strained against its restraints.

"The top balloon, this first one, goes up twenty miles," I explained.

"It carries the radio link and repeater for ships and aircraft signals, and the mesh network connection. With it, most calls between islands won't need a satellite link to communicate with each other. It'll go through the balloon relay." He gave me a considered but firm look. The man was known to be fiscally prudent.

"Tell me, Dr Cook, what is this going to cost me? My people do not need charity, they need commerce." I met his gaze directly.

"Well, the rumors are that I'm going to offer free phone service to every family that wants it," I told him, with a shrug.

"I hadn't intended that. The phones cost me about a thousand US dollars each, they retail in the US for three. It's not a bad idea, I doubt most families could afford them even at my cost." Phone prices would come down, and it was an excellent way to grow market share. No one else would offer cellphone service here for a decade without me. With me, it would lead the world in cellular communication. I continued after my pause.

"But I don't want to give you charity, Your Excellency. I want to buy a business. I want to buy Telecom Kiribati, feel free to name a price. And I need a few favors as well."

"Just what kind of favors are you looking for?" he asked, instantly wary. He had recently turned down an aid offer of cars from Australia. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Just then, the crew released the large mesh network balloon and the tension cable started to unspool with a high, zipping hum as the cable vibrated under the tension of the black massive hydrogen-filled sphere.

The watching islanders cheered as the balloon shot upward, quickly vanishing from sight.

"Banaba Island," I said, once the noise subsided.

"I'm the sole owner of it now. I'd like it to be fully autonomous—economically and politically. I'm interested in changing the name back to Ocean Island, and I want the freedom to fully do anything I want with the island without needing permission."

"What might you need to do on Ocean Island that you don't want to have permission for?" I smiled at his implied agreement to the name change.

"If I tell you first, then that is asking for permission. I can remain under the High Court of Kiribati and agree to abide by the UN declaration of human rights. I just don't want to have to get planning permission or permits for every little thing for the next hundred years." I pointed to the waiting second balloon, ready to be attached to the cable.

"The problem I have with my communication technology is the government's monopoly. If I can buy TSKL, then I'll gladly use it to manage the balloon network and keep it as a monopoly under the supervision of the Minister of Works and Communications. I'll even build a broadcast center and newsroom for a government-run TV news station."

"You'd also have to give up the two seats in the national assembly that Banaba currently holds," he observed, calculating the cost to his political power.

"That's fine," I agreed easily, the less I was involved in local politics the better.

"The runway here could be extended if you were willing to pay for it," he said, seeing the opportunity for investment.

"How?" I asked.

"There's a small island in the atoll to the west of the runway. It could be extended out to it, increasing the runway by about two thousand feet." That was an excellent plan. It would be years before a runway large enough for my 767 would be available at Ocean Island. Even the temporary runway we built on the eastern edge of the island took up too much of the limited space. Before he could continue, the second balloon—the television broadcast unit—was attached to the cable.

The cable started its zipping hum again, pulling the balloon rapidly upward to its 5-mile altitude.

"That second balloon is the TV broadcast system," I said, using the sound to punctuate my point.

"It can broadcast local and satellite TV to everyone in a hundred mile radius. The top balloon shares the TV signal, so once everything is up it will start broadcasting the satellite feed we are getting at Ocean Island," I said, pausing as the cheers grew exponentially louder for a moment.

"As soon as the new TV station here sends its signal to the balloon, it will pass the signal to any balloon within 800 miles. As other islands get connected with their own balloon, they will receive and extend the network by the same distance. This system is how you protect your culture—by giving your people and your government the tools to broadcast their own content, nationwide." He looked impressed, watching the cable disappear into the sky.

"We are carefully considering the proposal, and we will be testing the technology here. Many are in favor of it, so I see little in the way of obstacles. I suggest you befriend the CEO of Telecom Kiribati. He's a little nervous he might be replaced."

"Excellent idea," I told him, making a mental note to call my assistant.

"I've been so busy here that I haven't had a chance." I took a final breath before laying out the last, crucial piece of the deal.

"There's also a new product we discovered at Ocean Island. It's a seaweed that would make an excellent, high-value export item. It tastes like bacon, is cholesterol-free, and high in vitamins." The Beretitenti's face showed both surprise and delight at the prospect of the Bacon Weed.

"I was disappointed that the phosphate mining on Ocean Island was a trade for topsoil, instead of cash, though I understand the reasoning. To sell something more than coconuts and fishing rights would be a welcome development." The third and final balloon, the lowest-altitude cellular repeater, was now being prepared for launch. This one was the smallest.

"I have people coming out to see how difficult it would be to farm it," I continued.

"If farming is possible, then you've got a massive new export product, and the money stays here in Kiribati." He looked from the final balloon, to me, then back to the ocean, his political calculation complete.

"I think you will also need Kiribati citizenship, Dr Cook. That I can arrange personally. I also have a minor request for you as well." The final balloon, the local cellphone exchange, shot up the cable unfurling with a deep, vibrating hum, ascending to its 1-mile perch and new excited rounds of cheers from the impromptu beach party crowd filled the air.

"Go ahead. I'm happy to cooperate," I said, a wave of relief washing over me as the final piece of the network safely ascended.

"I understand you have some diplomatic experience," he said.

"Once you are a citizen, I'd like to call on you to serve as ambassador to the United States and at large as needed. It's too expensive for us to send people around the world for minor events. I don't think I'll call on you much, but I want to know you'll be available to advocate for Kiribati."

"That sounds fine," I said.

"I'll double check with the US State Department to make sure I'm not breaking any laws, but I'm happy to advocate even without a diplomatic position."

"Good. Once we expand the runway, I'd very much like to be able to request transport for government officials on your aircraft when you travel back and forth as well. I've heard how comfortable the plane is."

"I can agree for up to twenty seats depending on availability," I said.

"Excellent," he said, reaching out his hand. We shook hands firmly, sealing our agreed cooperation. The whole thing was going to cost me about twenty million dollars, but I wasn't worried about it. It was giving me a small island, independent and under my absolute authority. Time to get an architect in and design an arcology.