67Month 00, 2019“I was devastated, crushed—to this day,
it’s still mind-numbing what Elizabeth did”
WorldHotelrestaurant.“Myfriendgetsmadathiscrew:
‘Getoffyourdamnphone!We’reoutherewhaling!’”
Later we drive past the kinds of places that Tronsrue
says represent the future of Quintillion’s business, including
Cold War-era military installations and fields sprinkled with
mammoth satellite dishes. He says the company is consid-
ering building a data center and also sees potential in gov-
ernment contracts.
goal of constructing an Asia-to-Europe
internet cable via the Northwest Passage.
Tronsrue insiststhatobjective hasn’t
changed,thoughheacknowledgesit will
take$800million to fund. Meanwhile,
the Matanuska Telephone Association
recently announced a cable from the
NorthPoletothecontiguousU.S.,anda
Finnishcompanyisdevelopingitsown
$600million Arctic fiber. Pierce appears
to have proved there’s potential in this
market, even if her vision of a Northwest
Passagefortheinternetremainsa dream.On Sept.30, after more than a year
of court proceedings, Pierce surren-
dered to a federal penitentiary in Texas.
Prosecutors from the Southern District
of New York, which handled the case
because Quintillion’s majority investor,
CIP, is based in Manhattan, argued that
she acted alone. They claimed Pierce placed her “ruthless
ambition and greed” above the law. Yet the judge expressed
confusion. Given Pierce’s successful career and lack of crim-
inal history, he said, the former CEO’s motivations remained
a “mystery.”
During her sentencing, Pierce and her lawyer said she
didn’t gain much personally from the scam and other-
wise spent CIP’s funds on Quintillion. “I am financially,professionally,andsociallyruined,”Piercesaidina pleato
thejudgetoreduceherjailtime.Shestressedshe’snotan
“evilmanipulator.”
It’struethatCIPdidn’tloseeverything.Courtdocuments
indicatethatwhileQuintillion’stelecomcontractswillgen-
erate$480million less than what Pierce projected, annual
earnings could reach their promised 2018 numbers by 2023.
Other Quintillion backers aren’t so fortunate. Blair has
struggled to make up with her family over her lost $40,000
investment. “I was devastated, crushed—to this day, it’s still
mind-numbing what Elizabeth did,” Blair says. “Alaska really
needed this system, and I worked really hard for Elizabeth.”
And yet, Pierce somehow still has fans. Desiree Pfeffer
was Quintillion’s chief business relations officer and says
she’s now a board member. She was close with Pierce—never
catching a whiff of her duplicity, she swears—and mostly
remembers the ex-CEO for her tenacity. “This is going to
sound weird. Elizabeth gave everything to this project,” she
says. “I got burned like everyone, but frankly, I would work
with her again.” <BW>During my Alaska visit, Quintillion execs never mention
Pierce, but that doesn’t stop her name from coming up. At
Utqiagvik’s Arctic Research Center, which many government
agencies use for climate-change studies, our guide grum-
bles that the internet hasn’t improved. “We were promised
all this stuff by that lady, Elizabeth,” he says. At the town’s
Ilisaġvik College, Chief Operating Officer Brian Plessinger
complainstoTronsruethat,sinceswitchingtoQuintillion
fiber,thenewservice“hasn’tmadea difference.Wepay
$9,500permonthforjust 10 megabits,butwith2,000stu-
dents, it slows to a halt.”
Immediately after, Tronsrue is on his phone figuring out if
there’s a way to help Plessinger. It turns out that the college’s
bandwidth had improved from its old internet connection,
while its cost per megabit fell roughly 70%. But there’s no
doubt the service hadn’t lived up to what Pierce pledged. In
the ensuing months, Tronsrue worked to quintuple the col-
lege’s speed at no extra cost. “Nothing changes overnight,”
he says. “You either adapt or you get kicked in the teeth.”
It’s unclear whether Quintillion will complete its loftier