Chapter 82: That Time I Built a Power Company in South America

TL: Skye

San Marcos suffered from a serious power shortage.

Just how bad? Output covered barely 70 percent of demand.

This shortage had been building for about three years now, ever since Yu-jin took over the government and launched his all-out push for national development.

He'd pulled in international investment, rapidly scaled up factories, and built a massive Refinery Plant and chemical industry, which naturally bled the power grid dry.

So Yu-jin poured an enormous budget into commissioning two nuclear reactors from Korea.

But there was a catch: even with the site selection and permits all squared away, the reactors would still take a full four years to build.

Electricity is the oxygen of industry.

And to Yu-jin, a man who wanted to retire even a day sooner, four years was more precious than gold.

So Yu-jin issued government bonds and launched the Six-Year Economic Development Plan, the first item of which was to establish the San Marcos National Electric Power Company and build a solar power plant.

The reason: of all forms of power generation, solar was the fastest to build.

On top of that, with its blazing sunshine, Central and South America was prime real estate for solar.

True, bringing in American companies meant a steep bid price was all but guaranteed, but since the money they'd already won came to ten billion dollars, San Marcos had budget to spare, and so, brimming with confidence, the little republic posted its tender through the US Department of Commerce.

*

Tempe, Arizona, USA.

The mood in the headquarters conference room of First Solar, America's largest solar panel manufacturer, was that of a funeral parlor.

"So how'd the Southeast Asia bid go?"

At the division head's question, the team lead in charge hung his head.

"...I have no excuse, sir. We lost it."

"Why? Technology? Durability?"

"Price, sir. The Chinese firms hacked their unit costs down to dumping levels... word is they came in at half our bid."

"Haah... this is maddening."

The division head buried his head in his hands.

Between the Drump administration's recent withdrawal from the climate accord and the flood of cheap Chinese panels, America's solar companies were on the brink of withering away.

They were scraping by at all only because brutal tariffs kept Chinese modules out; growth like the old days was out of the question.

At this rate, restructuring loomed.

"Government subsidies are gone, too. Isn't one big project ever going to break our way...?"

That was the moment.

The conference room door banged open and an employee rushed inside.

"D-Division head, sir! A new tender just dropped, and it's a national-level project!"

"Where?"

"The Republic of San Marcos, apparently."

"San Marcos?"

The division head replied flatly.

After all, he knew exactly how pricing went in developing countries.

Forget the tech, forget the efficiency, money was always king.

In the end, American firms like theirs were just there to round out the field, and the contract would obviously go to the Chinese.

But this time was different.

"It's not like we could win it anyway."

"No, sir. This time the contract's open to American firms only."

"What?!"

The division head shot to his feet.

"How big is it?"

"Two billion dollars, sir."

"T-two billion dollars?!"

His chair toppled over backward with a loud clatter.

"Where does a pissant little country like that get that kind of money? Don't tell me the bid's contingent on a loan?"

"No, sir. The terms explicitly state payment in full, up front!"

In that instant, sparks lit in the eyes of everyone in the room.

"Hey! Pack your bags, now! No, book the flights first!"

"Where to, sir?"

"Where do you think? San Marcos! We are landing this, no matter what. I'll brief the CEO myself, so the rest of you get to the airport right now!"

And First Solar wasn't the only one reacting this way.

SunPower, SolarCity, Next Energy...

The same cry went up at every major solar company in America, and before long, Libertad International Airport had become a madhouse.

Salesmen from America's top solar firms came swarming in by the dozen.

'We have to land this, no matter what.'

'Miss this one and who knows how far the stock craters.'

'And it's paid in full, up front. In dollars, no less.'

Normally, infrastructure projects in developing countries ran on foreign loans or were done on credit.

Meaning there was no telling when the money would actually arrive.

But this time was different.

Anyone plunking down two billion dollars in a single payment was a whale, plain and simple.

So they promptly set about a particular task.

Namely: kickbacks.

Because that was how things worked in the developing world: grease the right bureaucrats, peel off a little something for them, and even the impossible got done.

Why had Chinese solar firms come to rule the world?

Price was part of it, sure, but mostly it was because they understood that game inside and out.

So the moment they touched down in Libertad, the American solar firms turned their lobbyists loose.

And among them, SunPower's lobbyist made his way to the residence of Aman, the Senior Secretary for Commerce, with all the cloak-and-dagger stealth of a James Bond operation.

"And the reason you wanted to meet like this?"

"Mr. Secretary, this is just a small token of our goodwill, a gesture in the hope of a good working relationship going forward."

But.

"......"

Aman didn't so much as open the box. If anything, he shot the man a look of pure contempt.

"You said you had questions about the bid, so I made time for you. And this is what this is?"

"...Sir?"

"Take this and get out, right now. Otherwise I'll call the army."

"N-no, sir, what's inside isn't anything ordinary..."

"Spare me. A few gold bars, at most."

"...If you'd prefer, I can bring a bigger box."

"You could roll in a truck full of gold and I still wouldn't take it. Pull this stunt one more time and you'll not only lose your bidding rights, I'll personally give you a tour of a prison cell on attempted-bribery charges."

The man had no choice but to flee in sheer panic.

Next Energy's lobbyist was bolder still.

'In a dictatorship, the spy chief is the one who really runs things.'

He requested a private audience with Director Lucio, and when that was refused, he simply planted himself outside the front gate of SIA headquarters.

"Director! Next Energy here! If we win this solar contract, we'll set up your retirement for life! A numbered Swiss account, with..."

From inside his car, Lucio rolled down the window and stared the man down.

His gaze was so cold the lobbyist nearly wet himself.

"I do this job ready to be buried in my homeland's soil. Sell out my country for a few coins? Get lost. Let me catch sight of you one more time and I'll turn you into fertilizer in a cornfield where not a soul will ever find you."

Crushed under the killing intent, the lobbyist staggered backward and landed flat on his ass.

First Solar's lobbyist, on the other hand, played the surest connection of all.

'If I'm going to throw money around, I throw it at a line that runs all the way up to the president, not piss it away somewhere useless.'

He requested a private meeting with Isabella, the regime's number two, the woman they called the president's shadow.

"Madam Chief of Staff, this comes straight from the heart of First Solar."

Isabella opened the sizable box, found it full of diamonds, and let out a little snort of a laugh.

"Pretty."

"I'm glad you like it. If you'd just look kindly on this one bid, there's far more where that came from..."

"By the way, sir, are you familiar with the laws of San Marcos?"

"The law?"

Isabella snapped the lid shut and said coldly:

"When a bribe changes hands and harms the people, the one who gives and the one who takes both face life in prison without parole."

"...!"

"So, what'll it be? Shall we continue? Or will you take your necklace and quietly see yourself out?"

The division head went deathly pale. He scrambled out of her office without even the presence of mind to grab the necklace.

That night, the lobbyists tipped back their drinks with hollow looks on their faces.

"My God... is this for real?"

"A developing country where kickbacks don't work?"

"And get this, the intelligence chief actually went on about patriotism over money. Is the guy insane?"

Bribes don't work. Pulling strings doesn't work.

Which left only one possible conclusion.

"They want us to compete on merit."

Only then did they realize San Marcos was no pushover.

And a few days later, the Ministry of Commerce held an official project briefing.

Word had reached Yu-jin that lobbyists were prowling around, and he'd given the order to lay out the terms of the bid in no uncertain terms.

With hundreds of corporate representatives packing the main conference hall, Aman, the Senior Secretary for Commerce, took the microphone.

"Thank you all for making the trip."

Aman swept his gaze across the room, the picture of ease.

"To be honest, I don't know much about solar power. Embarrassing, I know, for the man who heads the Ministry of Commerce."

"......"

"So since I've got little to say, I'll keep this short and simple. San Marcos wants exactly two things."

He held up two fingers.

"First: efficiency. On this land where the sun blazes year-round, squeeze out as much electricity as is humanly possible."

Obvious enough.

But the real crux was what came next.

"And the second condition, the most important one, is speed."

"...Speed?"

Aman's eyes flashed.

"Whoever can build us this plant the fastest and the most reliably gets a decisive edge in the scoring. That is all."

And with that, the short, punchy briefing was over.

The look in the executives' eyes had changed.

Bribes were useless. Connections were useless.

The whole contest came down to one thing: who could build it faster.

From then on, every company burned the midnight oil hammering out construction plans to slash the build schedule.

But they had no idea.

That among their competitors lurked one truly ruthless son of a bitch.

*

Perfect Solar headquarters.

Through a thick haze of cigarette smoke, CEO James Miller stood looking down at a map.

"Sir, word is San Marcos wants speed. Two years? No, we'd need to finish inside a year and a half to even have a shot."

James shook his head at the executive's words.

"A year and a half? Those First Solar bastards will hit that mark too. We need to cut it down further."

"But that's physically impossible, sir! Manufacturing the panels alone takes six months!"

James answered with a sly grin.

"Then we don't manufacture them."

"Sir? What do you...?"

"Those panels headed for Ghana, where are they?"

"They're scheduled to load onto the ship tomorrow."

"Get on the phone right now and tell them to hold."

"Sir, you can't mean..."

"That's right. We void the Ghana contract and divert that inventory to San Marcos."

"But the penalty fees..."

"Why hold on to a Ghana contract that dribbles money out over ten years of installments when San Marcos is offering to pay the whole thing in one shot? Better to eat the penalty and throw everything at San Marcos."

"Even so, sir, this could become a question of our credibility."

"Credibility? Build San Marcos a power plant in six months and that is credibility! The whole world will be watching us!"

James's eyes were blazing.

"Get on the phone and tell them to put it in the bid: completed within six months."

And so began a sprint with no precedent in the history of the solar industry.

*****

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