‘Whatever! They don’t have a right to do this to me.’
‘Forget it, Swami. Such things happen. You just have to bide your time. If you become too negative now, people will brand you a negative influence when it is time for the tide to change.’
‘I feel like quitting, Aditya. Just showing these guys the middle finger . . . ’
‘Even if you have to quit, Swami, it’s important to quit on a high. That’s when the world will respect you.’
Swami didn’t say anything. He just stared out of the window.
‘As for Malvika, I will speak to her. She is not a bad person. We go back a long way. I’ll try and find out what is bothering her. I suspect she made you the fall guy for the phishing scam. Which is quite natural for someone who is insecure about . . .’ His phone buzzed, interrupting the conversation.
He looked at the phone and then at Swami.
‘0832? Where is that?’ He took the call. ‘Hello,’ he said, softly.
‘Dad!’
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18
Mumbai
Aditya’s past had finally made its way into his present. No one knew of this aspect of his life.
He got up hurriedly and reached for the keys to his Mercedes.
‘What happened? Who was it?’ asked Swami. The uncharacteristically manic look on Aditya’s face worried him.
‘Come with me.’ It was all Aditya could say at the time. There was a quiver in his voice.
Swami got into the car. Aditya drove out of his Bandra residence and turned towards South Mumbai. It was late at night, the traffic signals were switched off, and Aditya was speeding.
‘Want me to drive?’ asked Swami. Aditya didn’t respond.
He drove straight to Malabar Hill via narrow alleys until he stopped outside a huge gate. Swami looked at him in surprise. He recognized the building but didn’t ask any questions.
Aditya was out of the car in a jiffy. He looked at Swami and asked, ‘Are you staying in the car or coming with me?’
Grudgingly, Swami got out of the car. He didn’t want to go in. But he didn’t want to leave Aditya alone in that state either.
Aditya ran into the building. Swami had a tough time keeping pace. The elevator was on the sixth floor. Rather than wait for it to come down Aditya dashed up the stairs. He stopped in front of a door and rang the bell.
‘Oh my god! Aditya! Why are you panting like this?’
‘I need your help, Malvika.’ Aditya paused to catch his breath.
Malvika reached out and patted his shoulder. ‘Calm down, come in. Tell me what happened.’ They had been peers for a long time.
When Aditya finished what he had to say, Malvika dialled a number.
*
Aditya took an early morning flight to Goa. By 5.45 a.m., he was in Goa airport. By 6.30 a.m., he was in Goa Central Prison, seated in front of the jailor, who had been hurriedly summoned at that hour. Along with Aditya was a team of lawyers from Kudremukh & Co., to assist him with the legal proceedings.
When he returned from Goa that evening, Varun was with him. Varun was one of the 123 people arrested by the Goa police in connection with the Nigerian riots. The police were happy keeping him in jail till they got a call from the chief minister’s office, who in turn had been called by the finance minister.
‘You should have reached out to me earlier,’ Aditya said on the flight back.
‘I knew you would come to pluck me out of hell, whenever I called. But I wanted to try to do it myself. When it became too much to bear, I called you.’ Varun looked away, out of the window of the aeroplane the moment he said this.
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19
New York
Josh pulled out a Coke can from the refrigerator and walked back to his room. On the way, he looked at Stan and smiled. Ever since he had moved in, he had barely spoken to Stan. In his line of business, familiarity caused complications. He never went out unless it was absolutely unavoidable. He usually ordered in food. He would get the door only if he were expecting something.
The laptop was on the table, plugged into the charger. He pulled the wire and walked back to his bed. He had just settled down when he heard the apartment door open and someone walk down the steps. His antennae tingled but he didn’t get up. The footsteps returned in sixty seconds, followed by the sound of the door closing. Through the gap under the door, Josh noticed a shadow linger outside his room for a few seconds. Moments later an envelope was pushed in through the gap.
‘Thanks!’ he yelled. He looked at the envelope and smiled. It was a green envelope, thick, cloth-lined, designed to carry important papers or, for that matter, anything heavier than a few pages but light enough to be contained in an envelope. Delivered by US Post, it said.
He slit it open and carefully pulled out its contents. A few bills—decoy paper, basically. A flier advertising a downtown designer store—again useless stuff. He opened the envelope wide and looked in. Deep down, at the bottom, was a small plastic pouch, 2 inches by 3 inches. He pulled it out, opened it and smelled the contents. Breathing in the aroma, he shut his eyes for an instant. He loved it. He walked to his cupboard, opened a built-in safe and deposited the packet. It was enough to last him a week. He thought for a moment and snapped the safe shut. It would be better to order the replenishment stock now itself.
He walked back to his laptop and punched in a few keys. In no time, he was on the TOR network. Using TOR protocols, he logged into the website. A page that looked strikingly similar to the Amazon e-commerce website opened up on his screen. Two words flashed: Cotton Trail.
Cotton Trail was the best thing to have happened to him and others like him in the past six months. Cotton Trail was a marketplace for all kinds of narcotics, prostitution, banned substances, even paedophilia. Anonymous retailers peddled their wares on Cotton Trail. You could buy any item, which was illegal or banned in the real world. You could choose from a range of suppliers for the product and order, just like you would while ordering books from Amazon.com. Cotton Trail even had a sophisticated supplier-rating mechanism to help buyers choose vendors. The goods were supplied all over the world via mail. Compared to couriers, regular post was subject to less scrutiny.
Josh ordered the drugs that he wanted and selected the checkout option. A window popped up with instructions he had to follow. He knew them by heart now. The most important one was: If the package falls in the hands of law enforcers, deny that you ordered this. Our systems are secure. No one can prove that it was you who placed the order.
The logic was simple. In case of discovery, the ownership and the genuineness of the transaction could be tracked back to the buyer only under two circumstances. The electronic transaction trail could lead back to the computer which was used to place the order. Or, the payment could somehow be tracked back to him. Nothing else could prove his involvement.
Cotton Trail was accessible only through TOR, hence the encryption effectively concealed the identity of the buyer’s computer. And Cotton Trail only accepted payments in bitcoins, thus preventing any access to the identity of the consumer.
Josh paid for his order with bitcoins and logged out.
While the TOR network and payment via bitcoins maintained anonymity for clients, there was a weak link in the process. The buyer never knew who the supplier was or where he operated from but the seller often knew who the buyer was, unless the goods were ordered to a mailbox, in which case identification was tougher though not impossible. There was a lurking fear that in the eventuality of any of the suppliers getting caught, the buyers would be exposed. But this risk was nothing compared to the overall experience of encountering a drug dealer in the dark and dangerous alleys of the city. Cotton Trail was far safer and easier albeit a bit more expensive compared to other alternatives.
As Josh
was logging off from his system, a notification caught his attention. It was about a mail he had received. This time, it was from someone who wanted to meet to discuss a job that had to be done. The time and place for the meeting were mentioned.
Josh confirmed that he would be there and logged out.
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20
Mumbai
It was a double whammy for Aditya. Townsville, Indiscape’s new game, had just been released. And Aditya’s long lost son had returned. Life was on the upswing.
When he met Varun in Goa, it was after twenty years of separation. He had last seen Varun as a ten-year old whose voice hadn’t even cracked yet.
Aditya had always been fiercely protective of his personal life. Everyone knew he had gone through a terrible divorce and now lived alone. No one had met his ex-wife and certainly no one knew that a son existed. Sundeep and Swami were both shocked.
It took Varun a few days to settle down and get used to life with Aditya. His time in jail had traumatized him. Aditya made sure that he got everything he needed.
‘It’s a long story,’ Aditya told them when Sundeep and Swami came over to visit. ‘I had given up everything at that time. My family, my wife, my fortune—everything in an instant. I used to be a brash and angry man. I travelled on work for twenty days a month. And when I got back home, I just wanted peace. A time and a place where I could relax and recharge. My family wanted just the opposite. They wanted to be around me and enjoy the ten days that I’d be with them. This clash of priorities led to terrible arguments and created a void between us. My wife and I couldn’t stand the sight of each other any more. Varun was around ten years old then. I realize the value of a family now but back then, I only cared about my career. My wife found someone who gave her the attention I didn’t and took Varun with her. It was an expensive divorce. Her lawyers in America took away everything. I could have got custody of my son—my wife was happy to squeeze me dry and let me have him in return—but I didn’t push for it. I had no clue where I was headed. I was almost broke. I wasn’t sure I could provide for him, give him the life he deserved. In his own interest, I let him stay with his mom. It was a very tough decision. Probably the toughest I have made in my life. At least his daily life would have gone on comfortably. But despite having the right intentions, I was not ready for what the courts had in store for me. My wife was willing to take custody of our son but on the condition that I wouldn’t interfere in their lives. The courts ruled in her favour. This shattered me . . .’
Aditya started to cry. Sundeep and Swami had never seen him in such a state.
‘. . . and I left them, without ever looking back. I have few regrets in life; this is one of them.’
He went silent. His eyes were fixed on the floor. He was unable to look up. ‘She died of cancer three years ago. No one even bothered to inform me. Varun was at Stanford then. Now he is all alone!’ He lamented, ‘I wish I had looked back. Life would have been different. We are all chasing illusory pleasures. Our real wealth is not in our bank accounts.’
‘Since we’ve known you, you’ve been very generous in all your relationships. Perhaps this is an opportunity from God to correct the mistakes of the past,’ said Sundeep.
*
Once Varun was emotionally up and running, Aditya wanted to introduce him to his world. He organized a small party at the Taj Lands End for all his friends and acquaintances, most of them bankers who owed him their careers.
Aditya was taking Varun around to meet everyone. It was a proud moment for him. His invitees were discreet enough not to ask embarrassing questions.
That’s when he saw Malvika entering the banquet hall with a companion. He tapped Varun on the shoulder and pulled him towards the door. Malvika had used her contacts and helped pull Varun out of prison, Aditya wanted to express his gratitude.
The moment Varun turned to meet Malvika, he smiled. He thanked her profusely. She smiled, hugged him and gave him a peck on the cheek. After exchanging pleasantries, she walked around to meet the others. As soon as Malvika and Aditya turned, Varun hustled over to Malvika’s companion and pulled her aside.
‘What are you doing here? Why are you hell-bent on chasing me?’
‘Do you think it’s appropriate for you to speak in such a manner to someone who is your father’s guest and . . .’
‘And what?’
‘ . . . and whose mother helped you get out of jail?’
Varun said, ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘I’m always serious. Even when I’m chasing you.’ Tanya was grinning from ear to ear. ‘It’s a small world, dude. Now that I know you didn’t run away from me, but were in jail . . . give me a call.’ She gave him her number before walking off briskly towards her mother.
The party got over well past midnight. All the guests had left. But Aditya was worried.
Sundeep hadn’t showed up.
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21
Mumbai
Aditya walked into his eighteenth-floor office early that morning, first in, like most other days. Indiscape and eTIOS operated from different floors of the same building. Indiscape’s was a newer, sportier, more open office that made liberal use of glass. Aditya had two lavish cabins, one on each floor.
He had tried calling Sundeep a few times but his phone was switched off. Natasha, Sundeep’s wife, was away in Delhi, visiting her parents.
After depositing his bag in his cabin, by force of habit, he walked towards the washroom. The light in Sundeep’s room was on. Assuming that he had forgotten to switch it off, Aditya ignored it and walked straight into the loo.
And froze in his tracks.
‘Sundeep?’ he exclaimed, going from shock to worry in a second. Sundeep was sitting on the floor, his hair in a mess, his eyes puffy and red. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
Sundeep didn’t respond. He just sat there, staring into space.
Aditya was getting really worried. He shook Sundeep by the shoulders. ‘Is everything all right?’ Sundeep had had a drinking problem in the past but Aditya couldn’t smell booze on his breath.
‘Everything is a mess, Aditya. I don’t know what is going on.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s been a week since we launched Townsville. The game has just not taken off. I was here analysing the MAUs all night. As of yesterday, we only have 23,000. Mafia Dons had over two hundred thousand MAUs in the first week itself. At its peak, it had over twenty-five million! Townsville is a disaster.’
The numbers were indeed ominous. Twenty-three thousand MAUs meant a washout. Sustaining the game online with such a paltry user base was impossible. Keeping it alive would cost more than what the game would rake in through advertising revenue. Advertisers would start pulling their ads and revenues would plummet. They would have tough questions to answer.
Whatever the reason though, Aditya couldn’t let Sundeep continue in such a state.
‘Go home, Sundeep. Get some rest and come back. We will figure out what to do. I’m sure we will find a way out.’
‘I don’t know Aditya. It’s never been like this. First the RAK Bank deal goes out of our hands and now this Townsville disaster. I don’t know what’s going wrong.’
‘It’s life, Sundeep. Shit happens. We just have to figure out a way of cleaning it up and moving on.’
Sundeep nodded. He turned and walked to his room. Each step he took was a tired one. He picked up his bag and said, ‘I’ll be back by noon. I’ve called all the game designers. We will figure a way out of this mess, Aditya.’
Aditya smiled. ‘We will, Sundeep.’
And when Sundeep was out of earshot, Aditya muttered, ‘We have to.’
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22
USA
America was forgetting Gillian Tan. From front page news, he had been relegated to page 7. TV channels had stopped covering the tragedy. A man who may have been murdered in his quest to serve his nation was quickly losing the nation’s attention.
A close aide of the President had been blown up in broad daylight and the Feds’ investigation was going nowhere. The FBI chief was cutting a sorry figure in front of the President.
No terrorist organization claimed responsibility for the attack. The assassins had disappeared into thin air. The FBI unsuccessfully followed up the lead of the courier package which Gillian was carrying with him in his car. After three weeks, they were exactly where they had started.
During an emergency meeting of the officers handling the case, Adrian was called in for a debriefing. Neither Adrian nor Tony had much to add.
‘It’s been only four weeks since I got the case, Robert. Give me some more time. We’re getting closer.’ Adrian argued.
Robert was very categorical. ‘Two weeks are all you have, gentlemen. If I don’t get results, you can kiss this case goodbye. Mike Hendricks is breathing down my neck on this one, and I don’t want the President to think that we cannot find the people who assassinated one of his closest aides.’
If Adrian couldn’t figure it out quickly, he’d have to make way for someone else.
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God is a Gamer Page 6
