Zero History

have, that he didn’t have, if he could learn any secret. And he said that he’d want
something nobody had ever been able to have.”
“Yes?’
“The next day’s order flow. Or really the next hour’s, or the next minute’s.”
“But what is it?”
“It’s the aggregate of all the orders in the market. Everything anyone is about to buy or
sell, all of it. Stocks, bonds, gold, anything. If I understood him, that information exists,
at any given moment, but there’s no aggregator. It exists, constantly, but is unknowable.
If someone were able to aggregate that, the market would cease to be real.”
“Why?” She looked out the window, over the taut black wire supporting its gray linen
curtain. “Our cab’s here.”
“Because the market is the inability to aggregate the order flow at any given moment.”
He pushed his chair back, stood, and popped the last of the croissant into his mouth.
Chewing, he bent and picked up his bag. He swallowed, then drank off what was left of
his coffee. “I’ll give you your computer on the train.”
She was leaving some change on the tablecloth. “You can have it, if you need it.”
“But it’s yours.”
“I bought it three months ago, thinking I might start another book,” she said, standing.
“I’ve opened it about three times. I have a little e-mail on it, but I’ll put that on a thumb
drive. If I need a computer, Blue Ant can pay for it.” She started for the desk, where
she’d left her bag.
Milgrim followed, order flow forgotten in his surprise at being offered such a gift.
Since he’d been with Hubertus, he’d been provided with things, but they all felt like
equipment. It wasn’t personal. Hollis was offering him something that he’d thought of as
hers.
And she’d already given him her art book, he remembered. He could read more of it on
the train to London.
They gave their keys to the man at the desk, and went out to the waiting cab.