Chapter 68: The Bitcoin Dollar
The number doesn't look real.
$1.04 per coin.
But the exchange rate's been hovering around a dollar for three days. Stabilizing. No more wild swings down to $0.20.
Bitcoin hit a dollar and stayed there.
My 15,000 coins are worth $15,600.
From an initial investment of $1,500.
940% return in eighteen months.
Memory supplies the future trajectory. By 2013, it'll hit $1,000. By 2017, $20,000. By late 2021, $64,000.
Which means these 15,000 coins could be worth:
2013: $15 million2017: $300 million2021: $960 million
Nearly a billion dollars.
From $1,500.
From a head start no one else got.
I close my laptop. Open it again. The numbers don't change.
My penthouse is too quiet.
6 AM. Saturday. Penny's at work (morning shift at Cheesecake Factory). The city's not awake yet. Just me and impossible wealth staring at each other.
You didn't sweat for this the way most people would.
The thought forms clearly. Accusatory.
I knew what was coming and I leaned in. Not skill, not genius, not grind. Just a head start I happened to be handed.
But from who?
The void? The universe? Time itself?
From people who made legitimate decisions without future knowledge.
Everyone who didn't buy Bitcoin because they couldn't know. Everyone who researched, analyzed, took genuine risks.
I just—remembered.
My phone buzzes. Text from Leonard.
Leonard: Quarterly update on my investment just came. Up 47% in six months. You're a wizard.
Me: Just following basics
Leonard: Basics don't produce 47% returns
Me: Lucky timing
Leonard: If this is luck, bottle it
I set the phone down.
The gang's investments: $20,000 total across four people. Conservative portfolios. Apple, Google, Amazon, Microsoft.
All up significantly because I knew which companies would dominate the next decade.
They think I'm brilliant. Strategic. Gifted.
I just had the answer key and did the work anyway.
But.
The shops employ six people now. Jake, Marcus, and four others across Pasadena and Burbank. Good wages. Benefits. Health insurance.
Wil Wheaton's $100k investment secured. Partnership that'll help him too.
The gang's portfolios growing. Leonard can afford better equipment for his lab. Raj is planning a trip to India. Howard's saving for a house. Sheldon's—doing whatever Sheldon does with money. Probably calculating compound interest for fun.
My consulting work is legitimate. I might use future knowledge to reference comics accurately, but the insights about culture and retail are real expertise.
Penny's confidence grew partly because I supported her ambitions. Encouraged her to pursue bigger opportunities.
The success isn't just mine. It's spreading. Elevating people around me.
That makes it okay?
Maybe not okay. But better than hoarding.
I open a new document. Label it WEALTH_PURPOSE.doc
Current Status (November 2009):
Bitcoin: $15,600 (potential $960M by 2021)Stock portfolio: $85,000Total liquid: $100,600Business equity: ~$800K (with Wil's investment valuation)Annual income: ~$200K (shops + consulting)
Planned Uses:
Scholarship fund for aspiring artists (launch 2012)Employee profit-sharing program (implement 2010)Emergency fund for friends (active now, ~$20K reserved)Sell Bitcoin in stages (never hold to peak): 20% at $100 (2013) = $300K30% at $1,000 (2013) = $4.5M40% at $10,000 (2017) = $60M10% at $20,000+ (2017) = $30M+Total realized: ~$95M (leaving ~$865M unrealized)
Purpose: Money should create opportunity. For myself, yes. But more importantly, for people around me. Employees. Friends. Strangers who need the break I got.
The head start was luck. What I build with it doesn't have to be.
That moral calculus has to be enough.
Penny texts.
Penny: Breakfast shift is dead. Want me to bring you something when I'm done?
Me: Yes. And coffee. Lots of coffee.
Penny: Rough morning?
Me: Just thinking too much
Penny: About?
Me: Money stuff. Business stuff. Boring stuff.
Penny: You're never boring. Occasionally insufferable but never boring.
Me: High praise
Penny: I'll be there in 90 minutes. With food and caffeine and opinions you didn't ask for.
Me: Perfect
I save the document. Close the laptop.
Bitcoin's at a dollar. My future wealth is locked in unless the entire cryptocurrency market collapses.
Which it won't. Memory's clear on that.
So I'm sitting on hundreds of millions, eventually.
From fifteen hundred dollars and a head start no one else had.
But I didn't choose the powers. Didn't ask for the knowledge.
I'm just choosing what to do with them now.
That agency matters.
Has to matter.
Or none of this means anything.
The city's waking up outside. LA coming alive. Breakfast shift ending. Penny bringing food and caffeine and distraction.
Life continuing despite impossible wealth and ethical complexity.
I'll take it.