Chapter 11 - Fischer
In one particular dimension, he ‘retired’ from finance at 32, and Deiter Fischer was already a wealthy man. He’d worked as a pioneering derivatives trader at the Hong Kong stock exchange until 1999, when China took over the colony from Britain. Fischer moved himself and his money to Japan, with no wife or kids to worry about. He was a multi-millionaire, and often lacked commitment in relationships, worrying if girlfriends were just after his money. They probably liked his wealth, but a few were heartbroken when Fischer dumped them by default – making their lives terrible. They always ‘dumped’ him, so he didn’t feel guilty.
Fischer was educated in Oxford, but his family were German, his father owned and operated a factory trawler out of Bremerhaven, fishing the North Sea and when Fischer junior left university, he worked alongside him in the family business, trawling and processing specialist fish for the Japanese and Hong Kong markets. For 4 years, Dieter learned the family trade and obtained his Captain’s badge in 1991 at the tender age of 25. He enjoyed the ocean life, but his father was always pestering him to get a finance job, to gain experience before his double first in Mathematics and Finance became irrelevant.
He’d looked at several career options, commodity trading in London, a mining engineer in China with UMC (Universal Mining Corporation), the Royal Navy, derivatives speculation in Hong Kong or a research post at HKU (Hong Kong University) looking into rare earths.
Young Fischer decided the place to be was booming financial sector in Hong Kong, thanks to his links with the Far East and Dad’s fish exports. Within a year of his Captaincy, Deiter was in Hong Kong applying his university degrees to the stock exchange and how to make money on circular qualified debt (derivatives). Using his new mathematical algorithms and computers, Fischer rapidly created an exclusive client list from Hong Kong’s elite, thanks to his growing reputation for good returns and lower than average risk. He traded with his own money too and quickly built up multi-million HK$ (Hong Kong dollar) assets and cash reserves.
His father was nearing the usual retirement age of 55 and wanted Deiter to return and take on some of the work, but there was no way he’d move back to Bremerhaven, life in the Far East was too good. He did love the trawling business though, so compromised to help his father by buying an old Japanese squid boat he then converted to processing catches in Hong Kong, instead of the North Sea by catching local fish alternatives. Like everything Dieter touched, it was a roaring success, but he still worked the stock market part-time for his best clients and himself.
When 1999 came along, Deiter was a rich financier, but in his heart he was still a trawler man, enjoying the solitude of the ocean and the excitement of catching his customers’ dinner, rather than spearing financial fish in a barrel so they can just buy it. He decided to move to Hokkaido Island, Japan, sailing his boat, the Ryou Un Maru, with a couple of loyal crew mates to their new base, even closer to the most profitable fish-eating customers he’d gained over the years.
His new fishing grounds were the North East coast of Hokkaido and the North Pacific, catching their specialist fish for local markets and exporting the rest to Hong Kong and Germany mainly. His father had retired years ago and sold up the North Sea business, to leave Deiter to carry on the family tradition for another decade. By 2010, Deiter was still only 44, and tiring of the commercial fishing business, too much hard work now. Having never been married or had kids, he now dreamed of finding the right partner, and settling down on a desert island and having kids. Luckily, he had enough money to buy his own island, fishing just for himself or family and diving to pick broken corals all day long. He was now lonely and family life was his new priority.
Fischer was always playing the stock market, now from his cabin and the permanent satellite link he’d installed, and noticed an advertisement for Rubicon, a new man-made island, built by IPMC, formerly the Universal Mining Corporation he’d once heard of. The cost was US$100 million and this was well within his semi-retirement budget. He decided to go ahead and purchase the ready made island, parked on an atoll in the South China Sea, so he sailed the Ryou Un Maru to his new home, laid her up and took some deserved rest.
Each ‘island’ comes with a ‘personal assistant’, who can be matched to your exact personality, either as a potential date, or on a purely professional basis. One of the trappings of being mega-rich. In Deiter’s case, the chosen lady was Dorma, a beautiful former Professor of Oceanography from Taipei and 10 years his junior. Dorma was more than a match for Deiter, she was his dream and eventually she would discover, he was hers.
They had similar interests of course, the beaches, diving, nature, healthy foods and an active, balanced life. They invited friends to holiday there regularly and were seldom alone, but when they were, they’d spend hours together reading and chatting under a large parasol on their South Beach.
There was one particularly lazy afternoon alone together, watching the ocean crash, the odd boat miles offshore sailing by, seagulls diving into the sea for their dinner, and a light breeze eased a rather hot 28˚C, thanks to an almost cloudless sky. Between sips of tequila, they both felt a light rumbling from the ground below, a minor earthquake they thought.
Their concrete island was grounded on an atoll 20 meters below the sea, but they’d been told by the manufacturers that in an emergency, there is a ‘very small’ chance the island could sink! – The buoyancy pumps make sure the island is either floating, at the correct height on the ocean, or grounded on the seabed, like a submarine moving up and down in the water. The thing is, during an earthquake, the concrete can crack and breech the buoyancy tanks, or the seabed can drop, before the pumps have time to keep the island at the correct level. So the procedure is to immediately check the basement for leaks, beware of coming tsunamis, be ready to evacuate the island and move to muster stations. In short – run around in panic.
It was a tiny tremble, so Dorma decides to stay and sip her drink, “You go darling, I doubt that little thing would have cracked our tanks, they’re a meter thick.”
“OK, sweet heart better go, I’ll be back in five minutes,” replies a rushed Fischer, as he heads for the basement.
Descending the long curved steps, he passes a number of thick observation windows for viewing the ocean outside – no leaks so far. When he reaches the air-tight door, he can hear a machine running. “Sounds like the pumps are working. That’s not good,” thinks Fischer, “it means there’s a leak,” as he checks the door tap, to make sure there’s no water or pressure behind it when he opens the door. There’s no water or air coming out, so he can enter the basement void.
As he enters the cavern-sized room, he’s met with a wall of yellow dust, and puts the beach towel he brought over his mouth. He can hear the noise of the machine powering down and eventually stop. He waits in the door way until the dust settles and he can see what condition the basement is in, “So far no sea water, so still OK, but something is flashing,” he thinks.
Fischer can now see something about 20 meters away, a large long cylinder, with a number of small and large lights, some are flashing yellow, like warning lights, some are blue. Fischer decides to take a closer but cautious look and closes the air-tight door behind him, quietly. As he approaches he sees his name on the side of a truck-sized tracked-machine saying “Fischer – Mark 10”. He’s thinking, “Nice namesake, but what is it?”
A virtual display appears in front of him and starts to speak, “Good evening Sir. My name is Mark 10. Could you tell me where I am please?” asks the machine.
Fischer replies, “You’re in my basement, what are you and what are you doing here?”
“Oh, Mr Fischer, I recognize your voice, but still do not know where I am – the homing beacons are quiet,” says Mark 10.
“How do you know my name? Have we met before?” asks Fischer, confused.
“Yes, Sir, you designed me, I’m a ‘Fischer – Mark 10’ drilling machine,” informs Mark 10.
“You’re mi
staken, I don’t design machines. You’re confusing me with someone else. I’m a retired trawler man and banker,” Fischer reveals expectantly.
Since a Mark 10 can know everything, “Oh I see, Sir,” thinking for a few more moments, Mark 10 has figured it all out, “You are right, Sir, you are not my designer,” continues the machine, “but I must explain why I’m here… I was drilling on Mars a few seconds ago, and a quantum-jump occurred… I arrived here for a reason, please let me explain…”