dkrc Chapter 65 I can help you get out of this crisis
Chapter 65 I can help you get out of this crisis
Los Angeles, August 30, 1996.
The plane landed smoothly at LAX airport, and the slightly humid Southern California air hit him. Ling Yun didn't linger for a moment, driving directly from the airport to the IceCloud investment company office in Silicon Valley.
Pushing open the door to the operating system R&D department, a more focused and concentrated technical atmosphere, quite different from that of a little over a month ago, filled the air. The sound of keyboards clattering was still frequent, but the initial noisy discussions had subsided, replaced by a sense of calm and efficiency. The thirty programmers were still working hard at their respective posts, but each of them wore an expression unique to projects entering deeper waters—a mixture of fatigue and excitement.
Robert, the project's technical lead and a senior systems architect recruited from Berkeley, immediately greeted him: "Mr. Ling, you're back!"
"Hmm, how's the progress?" Ling Yun asked directly as he walked towards his temporary workstation.
"The basic functional modules of the kernel (StarKernel) have all been developed, including the O(1) scheduler you emphasized, kernel preemption support, memory management module optimized based on the reverse mapping concept, as well as the initial version of the Binder IPC driver and Ashmem anonymous shared memory." The architect spoke quickly, with the precision of a technician. "We are currently in the first round of integration testing and stability stress testing."
He led Lingyun to several testing machines connected to various instruments. The screen no longer displayed an architecture diagram, but a command-line interface filled with a large amount of log information.
"We are simulating extreme scenarios with high concurrency and large memory loads," the architect said, pointing to lines of rapidly refreshing data on the screen. "The scheduler's response latency is basically in line with the theoretical expectation of O(1), showing very stable performance. The memory management module is significantly more efficient than traditional methods when handling large amounts of shared data between processes. The Binder driver has initially implemented cross-process calls, although there are still many edge cases to handle..."
Ling Yun carefully reviewed the test logs, occasionally raising several sharp questions that directly addressed blind spots in test coverage and potential performance bottlenecks. His technical insight earned the secret admiration of the engineers present.
"Very good, the foundation is very solid." Ling Yun finally affirmed the team's work, "But this is just the beginning. Next, we need to tackle driver compatibility, system security modules, and most importantly—the graphical user interface (GUI) and the basic application ecosystem. The testing needs to be more rigorous, pushing the system to its limits and exposing all problems in their infancy."
Having learned of the steady progress of the "Star System," Ling Yun felt somewhat relieved. The seeds of technology had been sown and were taking root and sprouting according to his blueprint.
However, he had another important goal in returning to the United States: Netscape, a name that is now at its zenith in the internet world but, in his view, is fraught with danger.
Back in his office, Ling Yun picked up the phone and dialed Netscape's main switchboard. After several transfers, the call reached a busy-sounding administrative staff member.
"Hello, Netscape Communications Corporation, what can I do for you?" The female voice spoke with businesslike efficiency.
"Hello, I'm Lingyun from IceCloud Investment. I'd like to schedule a 30-minute meeting with either Mr. Jim Clark or Mr. Marc Andreessen to discuss some ideas that might be helpful for Netscape's future development strategy," Lingyun said calmly.
There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone, followed by an almost undisguised sneer.
"Sir, you said you'd like to schedule a meeting with Mr. Clark or Mr. Anderson?" The administrator's tone was full of skepticism, as if she had heard something out of the blue. "I'm sorry, Mr. Clark and Mr. Anderson are extremely busy, with appointments already booked for the next three months. Moreover, they don't usually see walk-ins... individual investors." She emphasized the words "individual investor" slightly, implying that Ling Yun was overestimating his abilities.
In 1996, Netscape Navigator held over 70% of the market share and achieved miraculous stock performance shortly after its IPO, enjoying unparalleled success. Countless people tried to contact its founders every day, making it difficult for the little-known "IceCloud Investment" to attract attention.
Ling Yun was not surprised by the rejection. He had long anticipated that it would be extremely difficult to request an audience directly when the other party was at the height of his power.
It's time to throw out something truly substantial.
His voice remained calm, but there was an undeniable certainty in his tone: "I understand. Then, please be sure to pass on a message to Mr. Clark."
He paused, then said, word by word, "Please tell him that I have a way to help Netscape cope with the existential crisis posed by Microsoft. If he believes that Netscape's success can continue indefinitely, then he can ignore this message."
Silence fell again on the other end of the phone, this time for an even longer period. The administrator was clearly stunned by these words. In her eyes, Microsoft's Internet Explorer was a joke; its only function was to download Netscape Navigator. At this glorious moment, someone dared to so sharply declare Netscape's "existential crisis."
"Sir... what... what do you mean by that?" The administrative staff member's tone was slightly displeased.
"Just relay my exact words," Ling Yun said without explaining. "I believe Mr. Clark will understand. I await your reply."
After saying that, he hung up the phone.
At Netscape's headquarters, the administrative staff member, holding the busy signal microphone, paused for a few seconds. Instinctively, she felt that this man named Ling Yun was exaggerating; Netscape was unstoppable, how could it possibly face a survival crisis? But the insightful and confident assessment of the industry landscape in his words made her unable to completely ignore it.
After much hesitation, she decided to record the almost "curse" in writing and send it to Jim Clark's junior assistant via the internal email system. She didn't expect the email to reach Clark himself; she only hoped to fulfill her duty and avoid being held accountable later.
Little did she know the ripples that this seemingly insignificant email would soon cause.
In IceCloud's office, Lingyun put down the phone, walked to the window, and gazed in the direction of Silicon Valley.
He knew the seed had been cast. Whether it would sprout depended on Clark's sense of crisis and foresight. But he didn't place all his hopes on it. The contact with Netscape was merely a tentative, albeit improvised, move in his grand scheme.
The real focus remains on the development of the "StarCraft" system, the productization of Alienware, and his heavily invested Yahoo stock. He must ensure that, regardless of Netscape's response, his own fleet can navigate the impending storms steadily.