Gyeongju, North Gyeongsang Province. Korea Hydro & Nuclear Power Corporation.
At the nation’s largest nuclear power company—and a public enterprise at that—a tense meeting was underway.
The vice president of technology, the company’s highest decision-maker, asked urgently the moment his secretary opened the door. The president was a political appointee, so all major decisions within the company were handled by him.
“What... what happened?”
But the chief secretary’s face was far from bright.
“Zero... It’s zero again this time.”
The faces of the executives all rotted at once.
KAIST, the cradle of technology in South Korea. And yet, once again, not a single KAIST student had chosen the Department of Nuclear Engineering.
“No, why! Still, there were four last year, weren’t there?”
“From what I hear about the atmosphere... they say students are calling anyone who goes into nuclear engineering an idiot. It seems expectations have fallen again.”
The disaster had begun roughly ten years ago.
The previous president had watched a blockbuster disaster film and been deeply impressed by it. Unfortunately, its plot happened to be the destruction of Korea due to a nuclear power plant explosion(?).
And so, declaring that he would foster other forms of renewable energy, he announced a nuclear phase-out... thanks to which the already unpopular nuclear engineering department saw its incoming students drop to zero.
“God damn it!”
And this led to an immediate blow to the domestic nuclear power industry.
With the government’s hostile attitude, related sales declined, of course, and our nuclear technology—which had been ranked near the top at the time—became suspect in overseas exports, plunging endlessly from the floor to the basement, from the basement to hell.
“Does this make any sense!”
In truth, the previous president’s thinking had not been wrong.
No matter how cost-effective nuclear power might be, it was impossible to line all three sides of Korea’s seas with nuclear plants.
Judging from incidents like Chernobyl and Fukushima, nuclear power might normally be cost-effective, but it was undoubtedly a high-risk technology where a single accident could force one to cough up more than all the profits gained so far.
Accordingly, it was undeniable that we, too, had to develop our technological capabilities in solar and wind power.
But he had tried to achieve that good objective through methods resembling alchemy.
If one sets a grand goal, the sacrifices and pain that follow are inevitable. But for all five years, he held down electricity rates. Related R&D did not increase in any meaningful way either.
If he was going to phase out nuclear power, he should have raised electricity rates and used the money earned to increase solar panels, or poured in enormous subsidies like China to revive the domestic ecosystem. Yet whenever the issue of public utility fees or tax hikes came up, he gritted his teeth and looked away.
In short, for the sake of the people’s livelihood, public utility fees and taxes could not be raised, but domestic engineers should somehow do a good job developing solar and wind power technology... That was the concept. Sadly, there were no alchemists in Korea.
And so KAIST students had not entered the Department of Nuclear Engineering for years.
“Haa... haa...”
After fuming for a while, the vice president suppressed his anger and took a deep breath.
The one fortunate thing was that the current administration was not that hostile toward nuclear power...? The current administration had restarted nuclear power plants and was effectively moving to undo the nuclear phase-out, but that did not mean it was friendly toward nuclear power.
“Director of Planning. There really hasn’t been any message from the government?”
The Director of Planning spoke with a dark expression.
“No... We’ve continued making suggestions, but we have not received a clear answer.”
“They’ll restart the nuclear plants, but there will be no additional construction?”
“Yes...”
“Then what exactly do they plan to do? We secured Stargate, didn’t we? If they build data centers in South Jeolla, the centers will consume more electricity than the citizens of South Jeolla! How on earth are they going to produce that power?”
“Well, that’s...”
“They’re telling us to perform alchemy again?! Until when!”
The day domestic semiconductor companies signed Stargate with OpenAI.
The entire nation rejoiced over our technological prowess, and even the KOSPI set off celebratory fireworks, but the people of KHNP had to shed tears of blood.
Data centers were electricity-devouring hippos. And that electricity had to be produced by public enterprises.
Because of that, there was already great unrest inside the company. No matter how much electricity rates were raised, if the alchemy failed, another deficit was inevitable, and if that happened, next year’s and the year after next’s performance bonuses were as good as gone.
“Vice President! This won’t do. We can’t keep going like this!”
When silence settled over the conference room, the Director of the Energy Business Division shot up from his seat.
“This is no time for us to leisurely worry about KAIST! At this rate, forget future talent—even the talent we already have will resign in droves!”
“...”
“When Stargate was signed, our internal bulletin board was already filled with talk of performance bonuses. Every employee is worried. How are we supposed to generate that power without nuclear plants! Now we must strongly demand action from the government!”
At that, the division director seated across from him stood up.
“Director of Energy. Even so, isn’t that going too far? The current administration did restart the nuclear plants, after all. If we say something irritating in a situation like this, the Blue House won’t take it kindly.”
“Restarting them was only natural. Now we need to talk about additional construction!”
“Stop. Just as we have our concerns, the Blue House has its concerns too. They already turned around by bending their support base, in their own way. We absolutely must not say anything that could put us in their bad books!”
“When did this become a matter of factional logic? This isn’t ideology. It’s the survival of the people!”
At the two men’s bloody war of words, all the division directors rose up.
“No, even so, the Director of Management is right about this! It’s not as if the Blue House isn’t making an effort, is it? They announced the differentiated rate system, didn’t they? If we push too suddenly, we’ll be the ones facing backlash from the public!”
“You think I want to rush this? Electricity demand is going to surge, so how are we supposed not to move quickly?! To be blunt, the Blue House hasn’t done anything! They only did what had to be done!”
“What, then are we going to fill all three sides of Korea with nuclear plants? It’s not as if the public’s opposition is incomprehensible. Instead of that, let’s take this opportunity to grow our solar and wind sectors too! The government even secured ten trillion won’s worth of parts contracts from China!”
“Who said we shouldn’t do that right now? I’m saying we need to do that and build more nuclear plants too! Even if we squeeze out every possible method, the power supply and demand outlook is still uncertain!”
Amid the bloody dispute, the vice president quietly closed his eyes.
It was a difficult matter. Should they push the government harder, or not?
Recently, as the government improved relations with China, Chinese-made parts had begun entering Korea in large quantities. But he did not have high hopes. Even the same parts, once brought into Korea, suffered a catastrophic collapse in cost-effectiveness.
In the end, the most reliable source of supply was nuclear power, but unfortunately, the Blue House was drawing a line there.
This was not merely a feeling.
Kim Sangcheol, who placed importance on communication with the people, had once received a question related to nuclear power at a public discussion, and at that time the president had indirectly expressed opposition. Under such circumstances, it was painfully obvious what the result would be if they proposed additional nuclear plant construction to the Blue House.
“Vice President... a moment.”
As he was agonizing like that, the secretary opened the door again and approached the vice president.
“I’m terribly sorry, but I think we’ll have to pause the meeting for a moment. An important guest has arrived.”
“Why? Did President Park come to work for the first time in a while?”
“Yes... President Park is here—”
“I’m in no mood to humor him today, so tell him to go play golf. We agreed he’d respect executive meeting days, so what’s this?”
“Well... President Park did not come alone.”
The vice president raised his eyebrows.
The secretary continued.
“He came with someone from the pension fund.”
“Wh-what?”
“It seems the two of them have already discussed something.”
The conference room fell silent in an instant.
*
After finishing my meeting with President Park, I held my hand out the window and felt the wind and sunlight.
It was a sorrowful thing. Why was Korean land difficult for farming, while its sunlight and wind conditions were so capricious? If only these were a little more consistent, the renewable energy business could grow enormously.
While I was inwardly composing a Cheongsan Byeolgok of my own, the vice president, the person in overall charge at KHNP, opened the door.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Lee Docheol, vice president of KHNP.”
I greeted him warmly.
“Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Team Leader Lee Sejun of the Pension Fund Risk Team.”
He looked around.
“I was told you were with President Park...?”
“Our conversation is finished. I said I wanted to speak privately with the person in charge of working-level affairs, and he graciously stepped aside.”
“A p-private meeting?”
“Yes, Vice President. I’d like to ask you about something rather important today.”
His face was slightly tense.
Recently, through negotiations with China, the government had received ten trillion won’s worth of renewable energy parts. But since the entire purchase cost had come from the money the pension fund had invested in KHNP, it must have felt to him as though he was being audited.
“I know you must be busy, so I’ll ask briefly.”
“Yes, please say anything.”
“As an expert, what do you think of Chinese-made parts?”
“...Are you asking about performance? Or the supply chain?”
“Anything.”
He spoke with a slightly tense expression.
“To be honest... they make me extremely wary.”
“Wary?”
“Over the past ten years, whenever China saw desert, it installed solar panels; whenever the wind blew, it built wind turbines; and whenever a river seemed large enough, it built hydroelectric plants. The parts forged through that process... were quite astonishing.”
He gave a bitter smile.
“We took apart a few from the first batch... and I still find it hard to believe. The technology is one thing, but above all, the price makes no sense. We also evaluated them very conservatively under the assumption that there must have been subsidy intervention by the Chinese authorities, but what is certain is... Chinese products were superior to domestic ones in both technology and performance.”
“Then, since we’ve brought those parts into Korea, will we be able to increase our share of renewable energy as well?”
“...It will be better than before, but we will absolutely not get the kind of cost-effectiveness they get laying them across deserts. There are limits to our land. Of course, even so, we will do our best.”
I smiled bitterly and asked him again.
“Of course, I trust that you will do well. But what I’m curious about isn’t a textbook answer, but a realistic one.”
“Yes?”
“From now on, electricity demand will increase further. But coal must not be increased. With the parts we currently have, can we cover all future demand?”
He said nothing. That alone was enough of an answer for me.
“So it is impossible after all. Then what method must be used to meet electricity demand?”
After pondering for a long while, he opened his mouth.
“...In truth, it would be nuclear power. The only thing that does not emit carbon and also suits Korean land is nuclear power. But we do not wish to burden the President in that regard. We will find some method on our own.”
“Vice President, if the government were to give an order, could you build them?”
“Y-yes?”
I looked straight into his eyes and asked.
“Site selection, persuading residents, compensation, construction capability... I understand that building even one nuclear plant requires countless procedures and persuasion. How far along is KHNP in its preparations?”