Terminal Value by Thomas Waite Page B

week working with Matt Smith and his team on the Hyperfōn marketing launch. Now he hovered over his computer, reviewing information on the project.
    â€œWhat the hell are you doing here?” Heather cried, marching into his office. “Don’t you know we go public in fifteen minutes?” She grabbed him by the arm, gently but firmly, and led him out of his office to the main conference room, where the entire office staff had gathered to enjoy breakfast and watch the real-time ticker.
    Dylan sensed the excitement that filled the air. Employees laughed and called to each other about the emerging technology sector performance, their predictions on how Mantric’s IPO would go, what they thought it would be worth by the time the first 25 percent of their stock options were vested, and how they would spend their newfound fortunes.
    As nine-thirty approached, the crowd quieted down and gathered around the screen that displayed two lines. On one was the overall number for the NASDAQ; the other line simply said MNTR. The group watched and waited for the opening price to scroll before them.
    Nine-thirty came and went. A ripple of concern ran through the room, and then, suddenly, the MNTR symbol started flashing.
    â€œHere we go,” someone shouted out. There was a pause as MNTR momentarily disappeared. Then it reappeared, reading “MNTR …20.50.”
    â€œJesus,” someone else muttered.
    I’ll say , Dylan thought. They had opened at twenty dollars and fifty cents a share, and the room erupted into loud cheers and whistles. “MNTR …20.50” started flashing again, and the room quickly quieted down as the ticker scrolled from right to left, as if chasing the NASDAQ number above it. Everyone leaned forward at the same time in anticipation.
    The numbers began to race across the screen. “MNTR …21.00 …MNTR …21.64 …MNTR …22.24 …MNTR …23.50.” The room burst into deafening cheers, and then a steady chant emerged. “Go! Go! Go!” “MNTR …24.75 …MNTR …25.00 …MNTR …26.33,” the ticker continued.
    This is unbelievable , Dylan thought. He looked around the room at Heather, and their eyes locked for an awkward moment. They smiled, then quickly looked away. They both knew what this meant. From a risky idea born at a party on Beacon Hill to a crazy vision for revolutionizing the mobile computing world, they now were about to realize their dreams.
    â€œHoly shit!” someone yelled out from behind. Dylan spun around and looked at the ticker again. “MNTR …35.50” Silence crept through the room. Some people covered their mouths with their hands; others spoke silent words of encouragement to the screen as they watched the price continue to climb. “MNTR …36.25 …MNTR …37.50.”
    Corks popped out of champagne bottles, and flutes of the golden liquid moved through the crowd. The staffers laughed and toasted each other. The celebration continued through the afternoon, with little work accomplished. Matt and Sarah and half a dozen other members of the MobiCelus division dragged Dylan over to Matt’s workspace, where an active IPO drinking game was in progress. Every time MNTR rose another point, a raucous group toast erupted. When the price broke above forty, another round of cheers, celebrations, and champagne toasts exploded in the crowd. Then, as it bounced up and down in the forties, the noise stabilized to a soft hum.
    The market closed at four o’clock, and Mantric’s stock finished at $41.25 in a stunning début. The market value of the firm closed at over a billion dollars.
    Dylan found his way over to Heather. “When does your flight to L.A. leave tonight?”
    â€œNot ‘til eight.”
    â€œGood. The guys are supposed to join us online in about fifteen minutes to celebrate. But Tony—well, where do we think our errant young inventor is,