That evening, Richie was surprised to discover that he had a private study next to his bedroom, furnished with luxurious antique pieces and a comfortable, modern office chair. There was also an ancient computer sat on the desk.
Well—by the standards of the time, it was actually the most advanced and expensive personal computer available. Still, it wasn't much better than the machines at school. The only real difference was the presence of a graphical shell in the operating system, which made it somewhat more convenient to work with.
Secondly, in the adjoining room there was a classroom, where for some reason stood two walnut desks and just as many chairs. At the front of the room stood an ordinary school blackboard, beside which were a simple chair with a backrest and a teacher's desk. The room itself was no smaller than a standard classroom designed for twenty students. Along the walls stood cabinets filled with books, retorts, and chemical reagents. In one corner rested a plastic human skeleton.
An elderly man of about sixty was waiting for the boy inside. He had gray hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Brown eyes hid behind round glasses. The man had a solid build, average height, and a broad cheeked face. He was wearing a gray suit with brown leather patches at the elbows.
"Well, well," said the tutor. "Good afternoon, Richard. Take a seat at the table. Today we're going to have a lecture on finance."
"Good afternoon."
Richie nodded politely and sat down at the nearest desk.
"So, what are we waiting for?" The tutor tilted his head and peered at the boy over his glasses. "Open the desk drawer, take out your writing supplies, and prepare to take notes."
"Yes, yes, just a second."
Richie hadn't known he would be expected to write anything, but after the tutor's instructions, he opened the desk drawer. Inside, he found a stack of thick notebooks and various writing supplies.
The tutor began drawing graphs on the blackboard with chalk and launched into the lecture in a rather monotonous voice.
"Last time, we finished with the exercises. Now let's look at example number twelve. Your company is going bankrupt. Sales have fallen by fifty percent due to high prices. Revenues are shrinking, and shareholders are demanding your immediate resignation. So, the question is: how do you win over the board of directors and avoid bankruptcy?"
Richie was freaked out by such a problem being posed to an eight-year-old boy. He tried to come up with at least something, but quickly sank into a pit of despair. The boy's eyes grew glassy.
"Richard, I'm waiting for your answer," the tutor said calmly.
"Um…" the boy stammered. "I guess I would bribe them."
"That won't work," the tutor replied. "Richard, think again."
"Um-m…" Richie hesitated. "Maybe hire detectives to dig up dirt on the directors and blackmail them? And then hire hitmen to eliminate the most uncooperative ones."
"Richard, first of all, that's unethical, and second, it would lead to criminal prosecution. Civilized societies don't use such methods. Besides, none of that helps solve the problem of bankruptcy. Let's consider other options."
"Well…" Richie scratched the back of his head, ruffling his neatly slicked-back hair. "I think we should spread rumors that our firm is merging with a large company, and when the stock price rises, sell everything quickly."
"Richard, that is also unethical and unacceptable," the tutor remarked. "What's more, you could go to prison for schemes like that, and they don't always work. Next answer."
Richie hadn't been a financier before ending up here, so the task was incredibly difficult for him. Still, he had graduated from college in his previous life and had taken economics during his sophomore year. He tried to recall something—anything—but his memory stubbornly refused to cooperate. Eventually, his brain managed to produce an idea.
"I know!" he exclaimed. "We need to restructure—optimize the company's logistics and reporting systems, reduce staff, and find suppliers offering lower prices in order to cut production costs."
Richie let out a sigh of relief, convinced that his answer was perfect. The tutor, however, had a different opinion.
"On the one hand, Richard, your reasoning is correct. But in a crisis situation, there is no time for restructuring and optimization. Moreover, the reform period would take at least three years. During that time, the market could change so dramatically that even after overcoming its old problems, the company would face new ones and ultimately go bankrupt anyway. What other suggestions do you have?"
Richie began recalling real companies and how they had escaped similar crises. One example immediately came to mind—a company that had emerged from near collapse and gone on to become extraordinarily successful. The boy immediately hurried to voice his thoughts, based on an article he had read in the holopedia.
"In a situation like this, you shouldn't focus solely on solving immediate problems. You need to build a strategy with an eye toward the future."
"Well, well,interesting," the tutor brightened; he clearly liked the answer. "Go on, develop this idea further."
"You need to create alliances for the production of the most advanced products, so that in the future a cutting edge and in demand product can be released. For example, right now everyone uses computers with nothing more than a graphical shell. We should invest in developing a pleasant,user friendly operating system and 'plug and play' software. Build an ecosystem—our own processors, boards, and compatible programs. Even if the company ends up burdened with massive loans, within a few years it won't just survive the crisis—it will become extremely successful."
"Excellent answer, Richard," the tutor said with a warm smile. "I'm glad our lessons haven't been in vain and that something has actually stayed with you."
"Um… sir, may I ask a question?"
"Of course, Richard. That's why I'm here—to answer your questions."
Richie had been wanting to learn more about his financial situation, and this seemed like the perfect moment.
"Sir, are you familiar with my family's financial affairs?"
"Yes, certainly," the tutor replied. "I am a professor of economics, after all. And your family is among the ten richest in the United Kingdom."
"Sir, could you tell me about my family's business?"
"Why not?" the professor shrugged. "I can."