First Steps in LA (2)
‘Watts was the same, and this place is exactly the same too. How can the repertoire from all those future documentaries and novels be this identical?’
Less than an hour after finishing his investment in Orange, Henry grabbed lunch at a nearby restaurant and headed straight for the company known as RSI. In the sweltering heat of Menlo Park, Henry once again cursed himself for choosing the convertible. The massive escort vehicles lined up in front and behind—Ford Econolines—pumped out engine heat that turned the asphalt into a shimmering haze.
‘Trying to chase vibes is going to get me killed. On the way back, I’m definitely switching to an air-conditioned escort car.’
The moment Henry stepped out of the car, the door of the rundown building flew open as if it might break, and a man came rushing out, drenched in sweat. It was thirty-five-year-old Gary Ellison. Having spotted Henry’s luxurious convertible and imposing security detail from afar, he grabbed Henry’s hand like a man greeting his lifelong savior.
The interior of the building had a completely different atmosphere from Orange. Unlike the hippie-style warehouse office where everyone worked barefoot, RSI’s workspace felt like a bunker on the eve of a storm—taut with tension.
Gary led Henry straight to the president’s office. It was a cramped, shabby room piled high with stacks of documents, but Gary’s attitude was as reverent as if he were hosting the emperor of Wall Street. The moment he handed over a glass of cold water, the rapid-fire company PR began.
‘They said the interview part was the hardest… guess it’s true. But the repertoire is literally copied from the novel. Watts at least played hard to get. This guy’s desperation is practically dripping off him.’
Henry listened to Gary’s exaggerated passion with relaxed amusement. A company started by three people with just two thousand dollars, now in its second year. Their first product, Oracle Version 1, had sold so poorly they’d even lied and called the next release “Version 2.” Sales were still abysmal. They’d barely managed to land a government contract, but the U.S. government was notorious for slow payments. With overdue rent and employee salaries piling up, it wouldn’t be strange if they shut their doors tomorrow.
Venture capitalists at this time poured money into visible hardware but were brutally stingy with software—something you couldn’t touch and that had no patent protection. It was a lawless frontier where anyone could copy your work, change the name, and get away with it. So VCs offered predatory terms: “pocket change for investment, but we take all the equity.” Greedy as he was, Gary couldn’t accept that. As a result, he was fated to go nearly a decade without a single proper investment, surviving on credit card juggling and fraudulent sales pitches claiming “all the features are already implemented.”
Given the situation, it was only natural that Gary was desperate to latch onto a big fish. This crazy angel investor was willing to hand over voting rights with only one condition: he would abstain from any disputes between co-founders. Even the sole protective clause—guaranteed right of first investment in case of share dilution—Gary saw as insurance. If things got tough, he could always squeeze out a bit more equity and milk the golden goose for more cash.
Gary’s eyes gleamed as he poured out the virtues of Oracle. Henry listened silently to the long explanation, then, the moment Gary paused for breath, spoke casually.
Gary couldn’t believe his ears. Henry pulled a check from his pocket and wrote down a staggering sum—one million dollars. To Gary, who had bitterly complained to his partners that even three hundred thousand would be a godsend, this was an amount beyond imagination. He was so shocked that the first words out of his mouth were completely off-topic.
Even as he said it, Gary’s mind was already whispering, ‘For a million dollars, maybe I should just sell and do something else?’ His recent hardships had been that brutal.
Gary Ellison swallowed hard as he stared at the check amount. This money would cover all overdue rent and still leave enough to poach the ten best engineers in Silicon Valley.
Gary continued, voice thick with emotion.
Gary spoke with the solemnity of a man cutting off his own flesh, but Henry simply smiled as he watched the man’s unchanging, greedy eyes. It wasn’t that circumstances had changed him—this was simply who Gary Ellison had always been. The realization brought a strange sense of certainty.
As long as Gary was in charge, Oracle would clearly grow into a future empire.
Less than five minutes after Gary left the room, the contract was filled with the number “40.” Only after David’s meticulous review did Henry finally sign. Even when Henry refused both the meal and coffee and got back into his car to leave, Gary stood outside waving frantically. Getting him to stop was harder than deciding on the investment itself.
Henry maintained the convertible’s romantic vibe until they were well away from the office building. The moment they were out of sight, he immediately switched to the air-conditioned escort vehicle. Only then did he finally feel like he could breathe again.
Originally he had planned to tour Hollywood and Universal Studios, then spend a night at the Beverly Hills mansion where he had lived before moving to New York. But California’s brutal heat had evaporated any desire for sightseeing.
‘I can buy the studio with money later and tour it then. For now, survival comes first.’
Henry canceled all other plans and headed straight for the Beverly Hills estate. Compared to the main residence he currently lived in, it was modest—a mere villa—but from Henry’s perspective, it was still an overwhelmingly grand mansion.
The murderous heat of July 1979 was no exception even on the hills of Beverly Hills. Yet the moment Henry’s Ford Econoline passed through the massive iron gate, the texture of the air changed as if by magic.
This was the residence he had lived in before leaving for his main home in New York. In his memories he had called it a “small place,” but in reality it was nothing less than a “palace” situated on the highest ground in Beverly Hills.
The security driver stopped the car at the end of a marble driveway that seemed to stretch on forever. The mansion before them was less a house and more like an entire Roman temple had been transplanted here. Massive white marble columns held up the roof with majestic strength, and the brilliant white exterior walls reflected California’s intense sunlight so brightly it almost hurt the eyes.
The moment the car door opened, a line of impeccably dressed butlers bowed in perfect unison.
The instant he stepped inside, the hellish heat outside vanished like a bad dream. Cool air brushed against his skin, carrying a faint citrus scent. The entire front wall of the living room was floor-to-ceiling glass, offering a view of all of Beverly Hills and the distant Pacific coastline as if it were a garden laid out at his feet.
The head butler’s half-joking humility was so absurd that even the stone-faced security team and David couldn’t help but choke back a laugh. Twelve bedrooms, over twenty bathrooms, and an Olympic-sized outdoor infinity pool with twenty-four-hour filtration right in front of the living room—and this was “modest”?
The pool water glowed a jewel-like blue, catching the California sunset. Henry sank deep into a soft leather sofa.
Watching fake movie sets can’t compare to drinking champagne while looking at this. Way more cinematic.
Henry took a sip of the chilled champagne the butler had brought in a crystal glass. Inside this luxurious fortress that his past self could never have even approached in a lifetime of work, Henry savored a rare moment of rest while imagining how enormous the forest would grow from the seeds he had planted in Orange and RSI.
I should buy more Orange shares later. But I really want to watch that legendary board meeting where Watts gets kicked out in real time… Since I agreed not to exercise voting rights, I probably can’t attend under a trust name. Maybe I should buy about five percent in my personal name later and go watch it in person?
The reason Henry had chosen “non-exercise of voting rights” with Stephen Watts and “proxy” with Gary Ellison was clear. Watts was indeed a legendary figure, but without the bitter years of being ousted from the company he founded, Henry doubted he would have become the icon he was destined to be.
Even with this level of success, his arrogance already pierces the sky. If things go even better, who knows where that arrogance will end. For his own sake, getting kicked out once might be the perfect preventive medicine.