Rohan knocked the brass ring door knob against the large wooden door.
“Who’s there?” came the response but he waited patiently, without answering. After a few moments, Mila opened the door with a smile.
Gavin’s guest stepped inside to see him sitting on the couch, legs crossed on the coffee table.
“Sweet laptop.”
“Prototype I just got from this company called Purism. All open-source—from the kernel to the OS— running a version of Linux-libre with some proprietary firmware…” he noticed Rohan’s glazed-over look and summed it up, “basically emphasizes privacy and security. Pretty neat.”
“So, want to tell me why you needed me here in such a rush? I was in the middle of a game of squash.
With the Minister for Transport and Infrastructure no less. Why’d you fire up the bat signal?”
He was referring to the SwissPhone pager with 128-bit encryption Gavin had mandated the Legion executives all carry, 24/7.
“You were playing squash with the enemy?” Gavin asked.
“Oh, give it a rest. The guy’s harmless. Mila’s done some redecorating I see.”
Rohan had been observing Gavin’s lifestyle the past few months and he noticed the apartment's new furnishings. Obviously designer. They had invested, Rohan figured, almost their entire accumulated assets, and Gavin had covered the salaries and operational expenses out of pocket. Yet for a man who didn’t believe in taking on debt he was living like a king. It was more than could be easily explained away.
“You're living quite the life here.”
Gavin barely looked up from his laptop, “Can’t complain. Mila keeps me healthy, the island keeps me sane and the work keeps me busy.”
“Rent here must be, what? 45, 46 hundred Euro?”
“Right around, yeah. Why, you looking to upgrade from that dinky studio?”
“Nah, no need. Was just wondering myself how you’re managing so nicely. Haven’t been making withdrawals from the fund we don’t know about have ya?”
Gavin showed a hint of interest for the first time, “I thought you might notice. Let’s just say the past year has been bountiful.”
“So are you going to make me beg for details, or what?”
Over dinner, Gavin explained how he came to amass his fortune. It started when he caught wind of a company called BATS Global Markets, based out of a suburb of Kansas City. Through an anonymous inside source he met on some forum, he discovered that the company which was a competitor to the NYSE and NASDAQ was engaged in some shady stuff. While they publicly claimed that they priced trades off high speed data feeds, their price matching engine actually used a slower feed called Securities Information Processor or SIP, as it was commonly known. It enabled exactly the same algorithmic front-running behavior that they claimed they prevented.
“Don’t give me that. I don’t believe it.”
“It's all true. It wasn't just me though. I guess you could say we ruined their big day.” With mock disappointment he added, “It was so easy, almost took all the fun out of it.”
“So, how’d you do it?”
“I borrowed a terminal. We launched a trading algorithm with the intention of bringing the price of their stock down to 0. What surprised us was how quickly it worked. Took about 900 milliseconds.”
“What do you mean you borrowed a terminal?”
“The less you know about that the better.”
“I read it was an internal software glitch.” Rohan was incredulous, could a few individuals really bring down a billion dollar IPO?
“I ran an Intermarket Sweep Order, you know the exception to Rule six-eleven the SEC created for the big guys to sweep through levels of their order book?”
Rohan shook his head no, he had no clue what Gavin was talking about.
“Well, basically Rule 610 and 611 made the larger players antsy ‘cause they were worried if they needed to sell large lots of shares, the market makers would withdraw liquidity and there’d be huge price movements. There would be pandemonium across markets. So, as usual, they provided an exemption to certain players, creating the Intermarket Sweep. Long story short, ISOs in conjunction with aggressive short selling, can cause a real ruckus, as BATS Global found out.”
Rohan couldn’t help but bury his face in his palms. The law of unintended consequences.
“But all you did was strengthen the big players by taking out a competitor. That’s the exact opposite of what we’re trying to accomplish.”
It hadn’t occurred to Gavin before, but it was true. Still, he was in a pleasant mood and he reached across the table to ruffle Rohan’s hair. A gesture intended for maximum aggravation.
“Well, I didn’t have my trusty arbiter of justice, the cosmic scorekeeper by my side.” Sensing maybe he’d taken it too far, he backed down, “I’m kidding, listen, we’ll think things through together going forward. It’ll be different, I promise you.”
Rohan hid his displeasure, “Considering you don’t have much concern for budget, why don’t you bust out a bottle of your finest?”
Gavin got up to grab a bottle of Rittenhouse 25 from the wet bar. Once three glasses were poured, he slid one over to Mila and motioned her to give a toast. She was happy to oblige.
“Here’s to Viktor.”
“To Viktor,” the men said in unison.
“Thanks Mila.” Gavin turned his attention back to me, “And that brings us to the real reason I called you here. This morning I got the access keys to a collection of files Viktor had stored. Essays, notes, things he was studying, and also credentials to his Darkwallet. I pulled up the account and he’s got around half a million dollars in there. I wanted you here when I looked at the rest of the stuff.”
They finished the drink before converging around Gavin’s desktop. Rohan was seated at the helm while Gavin and Mila peered over his shoulder. A few clicks later, Viktor’s familiar formal prose filled the screen. His education in international schools and love for classical literature manifested itself in his essay writing, even though the casual hacker was most comfortable in the explicit non-traditionalism of 4chan forums.