Luthecker (4 page)

Both PHOEBE and Nikki had not gone unnoticed by either the military or the banking industry, but Nikki was adamantly anti-war, and since she owned the patent, the D.O.D. was left out in the cold. There was academic research as an application, something Nikki had no interest in pursuing, but she allowed the University as its reward, and where Nikki eventually found herself, Wall Street. It was no secret that many of the large trading houses had sought out the predictive abilities of PHOEBE and its creator as a last gasp attempt for survival.

It didn’t take elaborate modeling software to calculate that the stock market had not seen the last of its troubles, however. Even though there had been a recent rally, Nikki and many others in the world of finance felt that the amount of debt the United States along with the rest of the world was carrying was unsustainable, and it wouldn’t be long before the weight of that burden would drag down the markets. And to make matters worse, the current rally was an illusion, with corporate profits based on cost cutting, layoffs, and increasingly higher risk investment, and not the actual manufacture and sale of goods. The average consumer, under considerable debt of his or her own, was not buying anything anyway, at least not at the rate needed to sustain the system. Simply put, she believed that the sociopathy inherent in the current market driven economy itself had insured its own downfall by design, and the coming collapse would be of the type and likes of which had never been seen before.

She wanted no part of it. But she wouldn’t face the inevitable severe correction without her own safety net. She would make her bones elsewhere, she decided.

Even if she hadn’t met Michael Kittner, it would have been only a matter of time before she would have discovered energy trading for what it was, the most aggressive area of sustained growth in the immediate future. To her it seemed obvious. The business involved the most sought after, fastest depleting resource in the world - oil. The formula itself was simple and constant: The demand for oil would continue to increase, the supply continue to decrease. These were entrenched mathematical certainties. The United States military alone would ensure the integrity of this equation. But still, there would be inevitable price fluctuations. In her mind the variables behind those movements were human ones however, and therefore a calculable algorithm of greed, power, fear, and politics.

At twenty-five years of age, Nikki was Kittner-Kusch’s youngest trader to have her own desk. Beyond her software-designing prowess, Michael Kittner had also seen her potential as a trader immediately. He recruited her hard, not just wanting to lease PHOEBE but also wanting to introduce her to the excitement and juice of the trading world. Once she saw the high stakes action of trading, she was hooked. It was this inclusion combined with his passion for the business that eventually won the bidding war for her services. Some of the more senior traders at his firm had bristled at the amount of up front money he had offered her, but with less than two years in, she was already commanding a low seven-figure income, all but a small amount of that in commissions.

She was tough, and came in with a chip on her shoulder that most smart, attractive woman had, and that was to be taken seriously. With her blue eyes, brown hair, and gym-honed figure, she attracted the type of attention that created considerable professional deficit in the workplace. But she never made the absurd mistake of allowing the luxury of that reality make her bitter. She accepted the fact that she would have to work harder to prove her merit. And although she possessed the requisite charm and socially affability, she made it clear early on to all who may think otherwise that she wasn’t in this business to find a husband. In the end it was hard for anyone to argue with her success. She earned the respect of her colleagues, if not their fondness. Like many young people, she dreamed of hitting big, and getting out. But unlike many, she actually had the wherewithal to accomplish this.

She took one more look at the data swarm in front of her and had seen enough. She got up from her desk and headed to the conference room.

• • •

“It’s trading at ninety-three a barrel. A two-year high,” she said to the three men sitting across from her at the large oak conference table. “Saudi tanker leases are up, which means you can expect a ramp up in output,” she continued.

It was the firm’s weekly strategy meeting, and she had to sell hers to partners Kittner and Kusch, along with the firm’s senior trader, Michael D’Ammano.

“You think they’re trying to prop the dollar?” D’Ammano asked, leaning back in his chair.

Nikki knew that D’Ammano would be the tough sell. In his late thirties and already a multimillionaire, he was up for partnership and felt the heat of her ambition the most.

“They own enough of it. It’s in their interest. U.S. crude stockpiles have also risen steadily since the second quarter.”

“And China?” D’Ammano continued.

“They’re bending a bit on pressure from the State Department regarding monetary policy. They’re growing fast, and need cheap oil. And they don’t want the dollar to tank either. They’re up to their necks in U.S. Treasuries. “

“On the other hand, the Fed is also considering a round of “quantative easing” which is another way of saying they’re going to print money to buy up debt, which weakens the dollar. And a weak dollar drives up the price of oil.” D’Ammano countered. “Not to mention the street simply hasn’t factored in a price drop. I just don’t see it. I think we’re headed higher. One hundred, one ten maybe.”

Kittner and Kusch glanced at one another. They knew that D’Ammano viewed Nikki as a threat to his partnership, fearing that she would leap frog him in the process. It was a legitimate fear. In the trading world, it was a monetary meritocracy, meaning whoever made the most money ruled. They listened on.

“North of one ten means six dollars a gallon for gasoline, which means a move to electric cars. Not to mention the increase in transpo costs and consumer goods. That number is a breaking point for consumers. That’s not something the oil companies want to see. Look, everyone’s interests are aligned here. In my opinion it’s a happier world at eighty-three dollars a barrel, at least for the near term. We go short. We do it before everyone else, we do it big, and we do it now. That’s where I come out.”

The room went quiet as Kusch wrote something down on a piece of paper, slid it over to Kittner.

Kittner read over the note, carefully folded the paper, and put it in his jacket pocket.

Nikki quietly held her breath. She went over her argument again in her head. She knew it was a bold move to shift strategies to a short position on crude during a market rally, and so did everyone else in the room. It would make or break her. And on the other side of that result would be D’Ammano.

In the end, it was up to Kittner.

He sat back in his chair and mulled over her assessment. He was twenty years Nikki’s senior, but trim, fit, with a thick head of hair, and as such he looked at least a decade younger than his 45 years. He was attracted to Nikki from the moment he met her and was not shy in making it known to her in private, but she kept him at bay for well over a year. He understood why. Being an attractive woman meant that the professional landscape for her was particularly tilted in comparison to both men and less attractive women. It took greater effort for women like her to succeed strictly on their own merit, when the opportunity to either take advantage of or succumb to the easier seductions of life that that particular condition offered were hard to resist. Few women were truly strong enough, he thought. In his mind, Nikki was one of those few, and that’s what made her special.

He recognized how important it was that she find success through her own effort in order for him to have any opportunity with her whatsoever. And having an opportunity to be with Nikki was very important to him indeed. He wished to settle down and start a family, but with an equal, someone who could challenge him in her own right, an agent of her destiny, not a victim of it. Nikki was all of those things. So he subtly cleared the way for her so she could have exactly that, remaining patient and supportive as her confidence and achievements grew, as he knew they inevitably would. At some point she would view herself nearly but not quite as his equal, what he felt was just the right power dynamic for a successful relationship. And through it all he would stand by her, every step of the way, and despite their age difference, the natural progression would lead to what he wanted all along, a relationship. And over time it led to exactly that. Still, she didn’t make it easy for him. But after considerable courtship on his part, she finally relented and agreed to have dinner with him, and not long after that first evening they began seeing each other. Later, after they’d been together for close to a year, he used to joke with her about when he knew she would be ready: One year in the business, running her own desk, and a million in the bank that she made all on her own.

“And that was just for a first date,” he would add.

In the end, it had all worked out as he had planned with Nikki. That’s not to say that he didn’t love her, he truly did, but to Kittner the mathematics of the relationship came first. It had to work mechanically and fit into his overall plan for it to be real. To him, that allowed for love. And now, he was ready for the next step. He had purchased a ring, and soon, he planned to ask for her hand in marriage, which in his world, solved for the final variable in what had turned out to be the perfect equation known as his life.

And when it came to trading, Nikki was rarely if ever wrong in her calls, no matter how bold or contrarian the move. He had complete confidence in her, based strictly on her abilities and not his affection for her. He knew that if he came down in her favor, it would set three things in motion: They would make a lot of money. She would be fast-tracked to partner. And she would say, “yes” to his proposal.

“The world’s a happier place at eighty-three dollars a barrel.” He finally answered.

“We take a short position on crude.”

“I’ll put it in motion,” she replied, immediately getting to her feet. She was professional enough not to smile.

“Michael, my gut tells me it’s wrong.” D’Ammano made a final plea as everyone began to pack up. He looked at Kusch for support.

“It’s Michael’s call. You know that.” Kusch responded. Kusch was not without his influence, but it was understood that his job was to keep on the right side of legal, not call the shots on the trading floor. That was Kittner’s area of expertise. It was a hands-off arrangement that suited him just fine.

Kittner stood up, signifying the meeting was over.

“Get everyone on board right away. Start selling it to the clients. I want this done by the end of the day. See Nikki if you have any questions.”

He turned to her. “Keep us posted.”

She nodded in response as they all shuffled out of the conference room.

D’Ammano sided up next to Nikki as they entered the hall.

“Trading software is the death of this industry. And your software will be the death of this company.”

“The software’s not making the calls. I am. And you don’t seem to mind cashing the checks.”

“Nothing can replace gut instinct.”

“Do you need me to talk to your clients for you?”

“If we’re on the wrong side of this, it’s all on you.”

“And when I’m right, you’ll thank me for making you even more filthy rich than you are already.”

Nikki broke from the conversation and made for her desk. It wasn’t any shock that D’Ammano was pissed, and she knew he would fight her every step of the way. Given the chance he wouldn’t hesitate to run her over, which again was no surprise. None of this upset her. It wasn’t personal. It was simply the cost of doing business. In the Energy business, just like it was in the money business, it was zero sum, winner take all. And Nikki didn’t intend to lose to anyone.

Her phone buzzed, and she checked it.

A text from Michael. “Reservations @ Daniel’s for 8pm. Lets celebrate.”

As she put her phone away, she allowed herself a smile.

• • •

Nikki lived in an apartment on Liberty Street, right in the heart of downtown Manhattan. The mixture of shops, restaurants, museums, music venues, and nightlife appealed to her in theory, although she rarely had time for them. She rented the luxury two-bedroom two-bath unit not long ago, after she received her first bonus check from Kittner-Kusch. It was her reward to herself after a good first year.

The unit was quite spacious for a Manhattan apartment, luxurious in appointments, with hand-scraped Brazilian Walnut floors throughout, a top of the line Metropolitan style kitchen next to Baronial dining room that contained the requisite enormous antique wooden table that could seat twelve. The living area had an extra large U shaped black leather wrap around sectional, one that lined three of the four walls that made the room, with a marble topped coffee table that weighed over three hundred pounds in front of it. An ornate rod iron lamp fixture of Italian design stood on one side of the couch, and a sixty-inch flat screen was mounted on the wall across from it, perpetually tuned into a financial news scroll. And those pieces made the sum of the common area furniture. With her schedule, she claimed she had yet to have the time to really put her personal touch to the place, which resulted in the minimal décor. They were stylish if not somewhat masculine selections for sure, but they also made for an unfinished and somewhat empty feel.

In truth, this was her style. Nikki had little concern with apartment décor. She recognized the importance of appearing successful in her business, thus the expensive apartment, but she had little need or patience for random sculptures, paintings, knickknacks, or excessive comforts and luxuries of any kind. It was the one thing that separated her from her colleagues on Wall Street.

The source of Nikki’s diametric of ambition for financial success and ambivalence towards the material was her upbringing. She was raised in Upstate New York, in the town of Crown Point, located less than an hour’s drive from the Canadian border. Crown Point was a farming community, with few land subdivisions less than twenty acres, save for those lots leased by the very poor. Nikki’s parents qualified as such, and rented what long ago had been a guesthouse on a large farm. Norbert Ellis, Nikki’s father, had sold farm tractors for a living, and the family had barely made ends meet. Nikki had one younger brother by two years, Benjamin, and it was not uncommon, particularly during the winter, for the two of them to go to bed hungry. Nikki’s mother Evelyn, stayed at home with the children, but had been a drinker, and was less and less coherent as Nikki and Ben grew older. Nikki viewed her mother as weak, and she saw the pain in her father’s eyes when he could not provide for them. The combination created both images and emotions that stayed burned in her brain to this day.