Chapter Five: Oil Prices Rise, Stocks Fall

What? You’re worried about nobody publishing your work? For a true Texas tycoon, that’s hardly a problem. The wealthy have their own solutions—if all else fails, just acquire a publishing house. As long as it’s not too famous, a publishing company really isn’t worth much.

William White had spent the past couple of days busy with his grand plan of, well, let’s call it creation, not theft. Seeing their young master back to his usual self, Old Buckley was overjoyed, though the plummeting stock prices left him deeply troubled.

“Master, the share price is down to two and a half dollars now. That’s quite a drop from the peak at three twenty.”

“It’s nothing, Buckley. They’re just shaking out the weak hands. Controlling the board of directors won’t be so simple.”

“What should we do?”

“Release some rumors—if things get too extreme, White Oil will seek government trusteeship.”

“Isn’t that a bit too aggressive?”

“It’s just talk. Whether they believe it is up to them.”

“Understood, sir. I’ll see to it at once.”

In truth, government trusteeship was highly unlikely—few would believe such a thing. The White family had indeed suffered heavy losses, but their lineage stretched back centuries; their foundation was deep. It wasn’t something others could snatch up easily.

This maneuver was more of a subtle warning, a clear message: someone’s eyeing our assets, but these moves are just intimidation. If you sell your shares at a bargain, you’ll regret it in the end.

“What? Government trusteeship? Impossible!” a portly man exclaimed.

“Boss, our intentions have been discovered. Making a move now is tricky—we can’t absorb enough shares in the short term.”

“How are negotiations with the other shareholders?”

“They’re willing to sell, but everyone’s unhappy with the price.”

“We’ll hold off for now. We’re not exactly flush with cash.”

Their plan had been to use White Oil to raise funds; they never intended to actually control the company. Now, faced with uncertainty, they had no choice but to pause.

No matter what scheme they had, if they met fierce resistance, things would go awry. Want to use the shares as collateral? Fine, but the company itself couldn’t be mortgaged. After all, they were at least the second-largest shareholder. Unless you privatized the company and delisted it, and if legal disputes arose, everything would fall apart.

Time was the crucial factor here—they clearly didn’t have enough. Their opponent was utterly unconcerned with the current stock price, which only made them more resentful.

“Master, everything you asked for has arrived.”

“Buckley, clear a few rooms in the north wing. Then, following these blueprints, have these desks made.”

“Yes, sir. The people you need will be here tomorrow.”

“Have the lawyers sign confidentiality agreements. Salaries can be increased by thirty percent.”

“Understood.”

“Buckley, I’ll need a lawyer well-versed in patent applications. In about a month, it will be necessary.”

“That’s easy, I’ll handle it right away.”

Looking at the piles of Apple II computers, William couldn’t help but smile wryly. In his eyes, these were basically antiques. Yet for this era, they were the very height of technology. Never mind computers—even Wang’s word processors were considered cutting-edge now. Typewriters were still in widespread use.

Assembling these computers was child’s play for him. As for the desks he’d designed—well, they were undeniably Texan: “rugged” was about the only word for them. The upside, of course, was that the redwood required no paint; ugly perhaps, but sturdy at least.

In this era, computers and software were worlds apart. Computers weren’t even as useful as word processors. But this wouldn’t last long—a year at most, and software would spring up like mushrooms after rain. Whoever seized the initiative would reap the greatest rewards.

What worried Buckley didn’t trouble him in the slightest. The Hunter family would destroy themselves sooner or later, and he certainly wouldn’t show mercy when the time came. Lending a hand to push them into the abyss was something he rather enjoyed.

The Hunter family’s attempt to strike while the iron was hot was, in America, a grave taboo. If you didn’t intend a fight to the bitter end, it was best not to act that way.

The Hunters were old money, with vast farms and a premier horse breeding center. Don’t underestimate that—a good horse could fetch hundreds of thousands of dollars, and a champion even more. Their family boasted nothing but champions. Not only did they own oil companies and various businesses in America, but they also controlled major oil fields in Libya.

Unfortunately for them, they ran into someone who played by his own rules. Their Libyan oil fields were simply confiscated.

America’s international influence had hit rock bottom in this era. This so-called global leader couldn’t even protect its own companies, yet shamelessly continued to collect taxes. It was, frankly, disgraceful.

After losing two wars in quick succession, America was left reeling—war became a last resort. Taxes, in a sense, were a kind of protection money. You could demand taxes globally, but if you took the money and did nothing in return, you lost all credibility.

Soaring oil prices in recent years had driven the Hunter family nearly mad. Seeing the White family in trouble, they pounced without hesitation.

But they were destined for disappointment. This time, their opponent brought an unfair advantage—a cheat code, so to speak—and they would pay dearly for their aggression.

Wall Street, despite its size, was a small world. News of this magnitude spread quickly through the market. Clearly, White Oil was prepared for a scorched-earth battle, even willing to choose government trusteeship as a last resort. At that point, who would dare play any more tricks? The cost to the Hunters would become astronomical; an easy victory was out of the question.

The Hunters weren’t the only ones with bad intentions, but the White family’s stance was clear: even if it meant letting the federal government take over, they would never yield cheaply.

William White’s move was brilliant. White Oil wasn’t unsellable; if the price was right, they wouldn’t refuse to sell.

This strategy of retreating to advance was extremely difficult to counter. If you attempted a hostile takeover, they could simply walk away, leaving you to wrangle with the government—let’s see who’s more unreasonable then.

Once under government trusteeship, stirring up trouble would be suicidal. By all indications, this was no idle threat.

The benefit was that now, anyone with sinister motives would have to weigh their options carefully. If you wanted to acquire the company in its entirety, you’d have to privatize it outright. After acquiring a controlling stake, diluting shares would be impossible. The government would investigate thoroughly, making sure you suffered the worst possible outcome.

The downside was the falling stock price. If the White family gave up resistance and refused to launch a counter-takeover, those hoping to make a quick profit and exit would be sorely disappointed.

Nevertheless, as long as the price was right, there were plenty of companies interested in a full acquisition. With oil prices so high, such an oil company was immensely valuable.

The biggest obstacle was the economy. Inflation was running rampant, which was very bad news for investors.