Colm Brady

Patients

Monday:(Somewhere): He opened his eyes thinking, "What is this place?" The trolley wheels squeaking woke the patient up as two male nurses came to collect the sheets. They prided themselves on performing each task at exactly the same time each day - structure was important in this place. One nurse opened the double doors that led outside from the ward. These doors were from a time when this place had tackled TB, now they looked after all kinds of mental maladies instead.
The patient looked around and saw a Walkman radio on the stand on the left of his bed. For no reason, he decided to get out of the right side of the bed. He then put on the radio and heard a news flash – a typhoon had just hit Tokyo causing devastation in the area. It all came back to him then, he and the typhoon were connected, and the slightest deviation from his routine could have catastrophic results in the real world. He cursed the decision to get out of bed that way and vowed never to do it again. The fundamental interconnectedness of all things was a real pain in the arse.
Monday: (Liverpool Street): The trader got out of his efficient steel and glass car, took the steel and glass lift to his steel and glass office. It was still dark but there were a sheaf of research reports covering the keyboard of his computer. He glanced through the commentaries - large open interest option positions to be hedged and the fund had stiffed him again. The typhoon had knocked 15% of the Nikkei and as usual the fund had sold its holdings last night – how did it always win? It reminded him of chaos theory; somewhere a butterfly was flapping its wings.
Monday:(Shepherds Bush): The researchers grabbed his script from his hand sixty seconds before they were on.
"Load the autocue " he snapped as the continuity announcer let the audience know the news was imminent. This story was just in so he knew it would be updated during the broadcast – that’s why you need a professional at the front….
"News just in: A massive tropical storm has hit Tokyo causing widespread damage, we will keep you updated"
"I hate weather stories, give me a good war any day" he thought.
"Or a talking dolphin even"

Tuesday: (Somewhere): Out of bed with no disasters – so happy he didn’t even turn on the radio. The breakfast lady asked him if he wanted porridge or all bran.
"Can I have a sausage?" he said as he turned on the radio.
News just in that a huge earthquake has just hit the Middle East.
"D’oh!!!!!"
Tuesday: (Liverpool Street): Just picking a bagel in Benjies when his phone rings, IPE Brent Crude contracts up 5 points since opening. How the fuck did that happen. He races upstairs to confirm – the fund bought millions of barrels yesterday evening – man he hates this guy (whoever he is)
Tuesday:(Shepherds Bush): Now a damn earthquake – no wonder he is on his third marriage. He has to talk over dinky little graphs of oil prices. In the rush he fails to notice egg on his nice newsreaders tie…..
Wednesday: (Somewhere): The patient is dreaming of a life that is far away now. Computerised images of something called "the Fund" – his child of sorts. He is interrupted by the nurses arrival and he springs out. No big news on the radio and he shuffles to breakfast.
"Porridge or All Bran?"
"Could I have a bit of both?"
She shrugs as the news of the scandal involving the vice president breaks. Bugger.
Wednesday: (Liverpool Street): In early to catch remnants of earthquake trade, nasty business – earthquakes. He wonders will his bonus stretch to a new Aston Martin when the US news hits. Vice president the idiot – he even met the man in Basle, seemed solid enough. Found in bed with an Iranian Male Prostitute! The Dow Plummets and without looking he knows the fund has an arsenal of put options out there, time for another xanax as the millions flow outwards….
Wednesday:(Shepherds Bush): The producer starts to count him into the news. It has been a bad morning - a very bad morning. Legal doesn’t want to run the story until it is verified. The problem is the competition have already run with it so no looking back.
"Shocking news from Washington this morning" blah blah blah.
He finishes up and swears he will get the hell out of here soon.
Thursday: (Somewhere): He carefully put on the Walkman before he attempted to leave the bed. Bland music and news of a Hollywood divorce sputtered out. He smiled as he realised today would be a good day. He put on his dressing gown and followed the herd to the trough. Plain Porridge and tea were called for and delivered - the music stayed light-hearted and vacant. He flicked around for catastrophic news but none came – a slow news day. After breakfast he put on shoes and went for a walk around the grounds. Later a nurse approached.
‘You have a visitor – your sister"
The music became discordant and the signal faded as he followed the nurse like a condemned man.
She smiled and asked him how he was.
"Have you ever heard of arbitrage?" he asked distractedly.
Thursday: (Liverpool Street) The screens indicated a quiet morning and he sighed in relief. From behind he heard the creak of expensive shoes. It was Benson the head of trading strategy with his black on black shark’s eyes.
"We have tracked down the funds trades to a server in the University of Otago in New Zealand. Our man seems to have set it up two years ago but no-one has a clue where he is now."
"He could be dead," he added hopefully. "His model seems to be learning as it goes and if it gets lucky one more time we’ve had it. We need to find him and ,erm, deal with him."
Thursday: (Shepherds Bush)‘The Prime Minister opened a school in Filey today and slammed rumours of impending cuts in the education budget…..and on a lighter note a Panda in Vienna Zoo got over his shyness and fathered a cub…"
"Slow news day thank god - I need a drink"
Friday: (Somewhere): The fire alarm was screeching as the cold water from the sprinklers doused his bed. He grabbed the Walkman as the residents stumbled outside. They explained somebody had been smoking in bed and everything was all right but it wasn’t…the Walkman later told him there was chaos in the markets as a private fund had cornered the market in national debt.
Friday: (Liverpool Street) : It was known as triple witching hour - every couple of years all contracts became due on the same day so players could not trade out of their losses – a day of reckoning. Every indicator was flashing red in time to the throbbing vein on his forehead. He shook his head and glanced at Benson screaming at his phone next door.
"You’ve really done it this time " he spat as he watched the fund rise in value by millions every second that ticked by. There would be no weekend for him.
Friday: (Shepherds Bush):"Reports are coming in of a massive speculation coup on the financial markets today. Not since George Soros broke the Bank of England in 1992 has a private investor made such a profit. The Prime Minister has called for calm in the markets and insists that the free market will adjust and level itself,"
He turned from the camera to a bearded academic in a tweed suit who faced him across the desk.
"Professor Stanley, can you explain how this situation occurred?"
"Well this is an example of a process known as Arbitrage – where an investor takes advantage of price differentials in different markets and exploits them. In its simplest form it is buying something in one place and selling it somewhere else at a profit."
" How many people would be needed to operate this system?"
" In theory a person could set it up with the right equipment but it would need a team of perhaps twenty people working in shifts to sustain it"
"What of the rumours that one man operated the whole effort using an English Investment Bank to hold the cash?"
"This would be impossible with today’s technology and I believe the rumours that this person was Irish have no basis in fact."
"Can you explain then why its Bank Accounts are held in the name of the Cromwell Fund?"
"I couldn’t possibly speculate on that"

Saturday: (Somewhere): When the nurses came around he was already up and dressed.
"How are you feeling today?"
"A lot better thanks"
The nurse winked and pointed to the walkman. "Water damage I think – ah well sure what harm"

posted by Colm Brady @ 10:24 PM