Chapter 116: The Rival of the Great God Qiao
The software industry was in turmoil, the equilibrium of the personal computer market was shattered, and Wang Laboratories finally launched its first-generation personal computer.
Regarding hardware, Wang Laboratories was quite conservative, with specs basically on par with the Apple II. You could certainly call it a glorified word processor; their design was truly unremarkable. Yet, a major player is a major player, and their machines were highly sought after by the market. For the first time, the personal computer market entered an era of fierce competition.
White Software slashed its prices significantly, prompting computer manufacturers to ramp up their own advertising. Many potential buyers who had been holding onto their cash finally stopped waiting. The argument that microcomputers were "useless" was dragged out for ridicule once again, which left some old-timers feeling quite embarrassed. Whether or not they were useful was not for the "experts" to decide—that was the prerogative of the consumers. There was no need for these self-proclaimed gurus to overstep; they should instead try giving the younger generation more opportunities.
As the first giant to step into the personal PC arena, Wang Laboratories naturally experienced the vastness of the market. The unit price of a PC was far higher than that of a word processor, and the fact that their stock price bucked the trend and rose was proof enough.
Such a strong start naturally drew the dissatisfaction of the great Steve Jobs.
"William, you need to pick up the pace. Our Lisa project can't wait."
Listening to Jobs’s slightly complaining tone, William White didn't mind.
"Steve, our beta version is ready. Your problem lies in production. My software can't just be sold to one company, and as you can see, our competitors are quite formidable." William White wasn't buying it and promptly deflected the blame.
"Fine, fine. Just don't forget your promise."
"Mm-hmm, don't worry. I'm a man of my word."
Regarding Jobs’s demands, William White found it hard to even complain. Providing software for the Apple system three months early—what would that change? The Lisa project was such a piece of junk that it was destined to be beyond saving. Jobs didn't yet realize that his greatest opponent wasn't Wang Laboratories; it was the "Big Blue" (IBM) and Bill Gates that were the real keys. Wang’s system, like Apple’s, was exclusive, and it would never beat Big Blue, which had a whole army of followers.
Jobs didn't take Bill Gates seriously; in fact, he even helped Bill’s business, going so far as to encourage Microsoft to develop office software.
Bill Gates was indeed having a headache right now. To say he wasn't tempted would be a lie, but he wasn't impulsive. William White was not someone to be trifled with, and it was best not to have a direct confrontation.
"Boss, Microsoft has secured an order from Big Blue. Although the news is very confidential, we managed to find out."
William White was disappointed by this result, but he didn't dwell on it. "Hmm, Tom, find out what their plan is. Microsoft doesn't have the capability to create something out of thin air. They must have acquired it from somewhere or obtained some kind of license."
"Understood, boss. I'll check on it immediately." Seeing that his boss didn't sound overly displeased, he finally let out a sigh of relief.
"Is SDOS about to make its grand debut? Why am I still a little excited? Haha!"
In a sense, this was insider trading. Bill Gates didn't have a system of his own; SDOS was just junk he bought, slightly modified, and put up for sale. Regardless of when the IBM PC appeared, White Software would be the first to launch supporting software. Everything sold so far was just a small skirmish; if they fell behind in the next wave, White Software would cease to exist in this world.
Jobs was facing challenges, and so was William White. Not only was he encountering trouble in the software sector, but the arcade industry was also about to undergo a shift.
Motorola’s 6800 series actually had a derivative: the 6500 series, which was branched off from the 68 series. The tragic part was that this thing didn't belong to Motorola. Much like the birth of AMD, due to ideological differences, key personnel had struck out on their own. This MOS Technology company was an oddity; the 6502 series CPU was practically open-source—it seemed any factory could produce it, and the cost was near zero.
Dreaming of monopolizing it now was a fool’s errand. Both the Apple I and II used this CPU, and the Atari 2600 also utilized this chipset. In William White’s view, the 68000 had much greater potential. If they could achieve a breakthrough in low power consumption, the potential of this chip would be immense.
"Boss, Mr. Philson is here."
"Good, have him go to the conference room. We’ll start the meeting right away."
"Yes, boss."
Obtaining a license from Motorola wasn't difficult, but acquiring the entire chip division was hard. Yet, William White wasn't willing to give up; he decided to give it a try.
"Philson, what did Motorola say?"
"Boss, production licensing is no problem. Their production capacity and yield rates are poor, and they are also looking for third-party factories."
"Sigh, there won't be any issues in the short term, but it definitely won't work in the long run. Can we hire back those guys who went to MOS Technology?"
Philson considered for a moment and said, "If the benefits are sufficient, I believe they won't refuse."
"Good, get on it immediately. Tell the Japanese semiconductor manufacturers that we need a partner."
In a way, William White had dug his own grave. Motorola originally had no interest in their chip division, but with the Legend World arcade machines, things were different—that division was clearly very profitable. He didn't want to use the 6502 for his home video game console. While it was a great piece of hardware, the barrier to entry was too low; Atari could easily develop on this foundation and threaten him.
Simply taking the 68000 wasn't appropriate either; it would be a huge waste. The Famicom’s frequency wasn't even 2 MHz, so why go overboard? The only issue was bandwidth. The Famicom had experienced technical glitches, mainly caused by insufficient bandwidth—an inherent flaw of 8-bit processors. Since that group of geniuses could create an 8-bit processor based on the 6800, a 16-bit one shouldn't be difficult. If that was developed, it would absolutely crush Intel’s 8080.
In fact, Motorola was also hesitant. In their view, while the 6800 still had potential, the profit margin was mediocre. The price had dropped from $320 per unit to just a few dozen dollars, and at the current rate, it might even fall into the $50 range.
William White didn't have time to hesitate, and all departments began to act quickly.
With this, Motorola obviously couldn't sit still. What he wanted wasn't the 6800; it was clearly a chip tailored for a home video game console. It wasn't hard for them to draw this conclusion. He needed design authorization; he was clearly planning to modify the 6800. The conclusion was simple—why else was their CPU price plummeting if not for the mess caused by MOS Technology? The lawsuits had been dragging on for a long time.
William White was reasonable and willing to spend money, unlike MOS Technology, which wasn't so polite.
"How about we collaborate?"
"What? Spin off the chip division to collaborate?"
"Yes, boss. They don't want to sell it entirely, but they are open to a partnership."
"Hmm, that’s something we can talk about. I need at least 30 percent of the shares. The production base will be in Japan, so there will also be a Japanese investor."
"Understood, boss. We will begin negotiations immediately."