Armchair Safari (A Cybercrime Technothriller)

by Jonathan Paul Isaacs

  The passage continued straight for some time before turning sharply to the left. Megan followed it until it took another ninety-degree turn. It seemed she was following the perimeter of the outside structure. Then there was another turn. Megan wondered if she was going to be led in a circle back to where she started. She came upon another left and Megan let out a sigh. She was going in a circle. It was back to the drawing board.

  It took a moment before she realized that there was no daylight ahead.

  Panic welled up in Megan’s stomach. Did someone take my Portable Hole? Did someone fold it up and leave? How will I get out?

  She fought to clear her mind and focus. All Megan had control over was what she did right now, and dwelling on the fear of betrayal was not constructive. She decided to make the loop again to make sure she wasn’t missing anything.

  A stretch of corridor and a left. Again, and again, and again. Were the passageways getting shorter? It felt like she was making better time around the loop. She kept moving and at last she realized what was going on. It was a spiral.

  A smile formed on her lips. Perhaps she was not forsaken after all. With her Glow Globe and sword in front of her, Megan accelerated her pace as much as she could.

  “She’s been gone a long time,” Boris said.

  Father Corman let out a deep breath. “Yes, she has.”

  “I’m going to go check on her and make sure she is all right.”

  “No, wait,” Kalam interjected. “Thieving work takes time. The last thing we need is for someone to rush blindly in and set off some trap that will grind him into oatmeal.”

  “How long is enough to wait, then?”

  “More is better than less.”

  Boris was not satisfied. He took a step to the side to walk around Kalam’s arm. Kalam’s face hardened.

  “There she is!” Sameer shouted, pointing up the side.

  All eyes turned skyward. Megan had stepped out of the hole she had magically created and looked extremely pale.

  “Are you all right?” Boris shouted, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Megan! What did you find?”

  Megan didn’t answer.

  Boris catapulted himself up the wide pyramid steps. When he reached the thief, he grabbed her hands and bent over and tried to catch her eye. Had she been hurt? She seemed like she was in shock.

  “Are you okay? Megan—talk to me.”

  Megan slowly looked up at him. Her lips started to quiver.

  “I’ve got you, sweetie. I’ve got you. It’s okay. What’s in there?”

  “The jackpot,” she murmured.

  “Huh? The what?”

  In a flash, Megan was back. She started to breathe like she had just come up from underwater and was gasping to fill empty lungs. “Boris—oh my God. There’s so much money in there. Holy God. I’m scared, Boris.”

  Boris heard the others climbing up behind him. “Tell me more, Megan. Tell me everything. Just take a deep breath and relax.”

  “Okay,” Megan said. She closed her eyes for a moment. “There is a passageway inside the wall of the pyramid that spirals inward. I was confused at first because I thought it just ran around the perimeter. It was a strange layout; I can’t for the life of me understand why someone would build a pyramid that way. At the center of the spiral there was a hole in the floor that opened into the ceiling of a treasure vault. A full treasure vault.”

  “Full?”

  Megan nodded. “The light I was using is not very strong, but there were mounds of gold coins, boxes and chests overflowing with gemstones, jewel-encrusted suits of armor. I’ve never seen anything like it. Oh my God, Boris, we’re talking about millions of dollars here. Millions of dollars of someone else’s money that we’re intending to walk away with. I’m so scared.”

  Boris was silent.

  “It’s fair game, Megan.”

  Megan nodded her head. She was shaking.

  “We’re rich, sweetie!” Boris whispered, savoring the realization.

  After giving Megan enough time to compose herself, Boris led her back down to the bottom of the pyramid. There the rest of the party had gathered around them for the debrief on what she had found. Boris ignored the flurry of questions, instead contemplating their newfound wealth and what he intended to spent it on. It wasn’t until Haas asked one that he paused to listen.

  “How many traps were there?”

  “What? Oh.” Megan paused for a long moment. “There weren’t any. At least, none that I came across.”

  “You didn’t have to disarm any traps?” Haas confirmed.

  “No.”

  “What about guardians? Warding spells?”

  “No, nothing.”

  Boris saw the ranger give a hard stare at Kalam before nodding in acknowledgment. He felt the smile slipping from his own face as well. No one left their stronghold unguarded. No traps, no defenses, especially for a giant treasure horde, was beyond unthinkable

  “What does that mean?” Sameer asked uncomfortably.

  “It means keep your eyes open,” the ranger said.

  “Huh. Yeah.”

  The party wasted no more time. Megan had discovered that a narrow chimney—presumably mandated by Armchair Safari’s building tools for oxygen—extended from the apex of the pyramid down into the center of the vault, and the working theory was that as characters were harvested from the strongholds nearby, their belonging were dumped down the narrow shaft. Megan used the Portable Hole to form a larger passage perpendicular to the chimney and they fashioned a dumbwaiter to haul the treasure out. They split into three teams, one to handle the extraction, another to organize the treasure as it got outside, and a third to provide site security and rest—physically, at least. The mental spending that was going on was sure to cause some mental fatigue.

  By the midpoint of the second day, they still had seen no sign of the pyramid’s owner. The great piles of loot arranged strategically around camp were all that was visible.

  “How much do you think we’ve pulled out?” Megan asked Sameer. The wizard was in charge of keeping the tally. Megan found it odd that Kalam the accountant had not self-selected to be in charge of that function, opting instead for guard duty.

  “We’re doing well. Nearly fifteen million crowns’ worth so far.”

  “Wow.” Megan walked among the piles, wondering if they might actually get away with this haul.

  “Of course, we’re going to have to stop soon.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  “I only have enough mana to summon twenty-six Kazeer’s Floating Disks. If we use one Disk per pile, we’re already pushing the limit. Unfortunately, we left all the donkeys back at Bangor when we had to high tail it out on the ship.”

  Megan frowned. “There’s still a lot left in there, you know.”

  “I know.”

  Megan started pacing in a little circle. “I wonder if I could use the Portable Hole to carry some.”

  “How would that work?”

  Megan had to think for a moment. She had never had to explain how a Portable Hole functioned to anyone before. “Well, the Hole basically makes this big, extra-dimensional cylinder about, I don’t know, maybe fifteen feet long. If the ends of the cylinder connect to air, you basically make a tunnel. If one of the ends doesn’t connect to anything—for example, if I stick it on the ground—it’s just a hole, a pit. The key is that the extra-dimensional space is attached to the Hole, not to what it’s placed against. Anything I put inside of it goes where the Hole goes. If I were to put it on the ground and we filled it up with loot, I could fold it up, put it in my purse, and travel a thousand miles. When I open the Hole back up at home, the loot will be right there.”

  “And how much does such a loaded Portable Hole weigh?” Sameer asked.

  Megan shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  Sameer smiled in appreciation. “I think I like traveling with you.”

  Megan went over this idea with the others and after they mapped out all of the
logistics, it was determined the best way to maximize the treasure haul was to put the small, highly-concentrated valuables—gems, jewelry, platinum coins, rare artifacts—into the Portable Hole, and leave the rest on Sameer’s magically levitating conjurations. Even though the Portable Hole also had a space limitation, putting the higher value items in Megan’s possession would diversify their risk from the giant floating piles of coin that Sameer would be managing.

  Soon there were multiple eight-foot tall piles of coins spaced evenly around the clearing. A smaller mound of valuables sat ready for the Portable Hole. Megan brought the Hole down to the clearing, opened it on the ground, and joyfully kicked the designated pile into it until it was almost entirely full. Then she folded it up and effortlessly stashed it in her thief’s purse.

  “Don’t lose that,” Kalam said gravely.

  “Or take off with it,” Boris jibed, both friendly and concerned.

  Megan shook her head. “Wouldn’t think of it. Y’all are the reason I’m here. This is our shared good fortune.”

  Boris smiled back at her and winked.

  No one wanted to remain at the scene of the crime any longer than necessary. The party broke camp and prepared to move out. Sameer chanted incantations and each of the mounds of coins rose into the air with a shimmering blue circle underneath it. Twenty million crowns, that was the total. Megan couldn’t believe it. Even split six ways it was a life-changing amount of money.

  She hoped they would be able to get back with it.

  21

  Austin, Texas.

  Derek’s vision of a stable work fantasy was proving not to be so fantastic. It was right before school was to start—first grade, the big one—and Jules had suggested that instead of Derek flying up to Boston for the next visit, why didn’t she and Robby come down to Austin and spend time down south? Derek had been ecstatic—until Jules told him the night before that she wasn’t coming. Only Robby.

  The phone call had been tough.

  “What the hell do you mean you’re sending him down here alone?” Derek said.

  “I have things to do up here,” Jules replied evasively. “But that doesn’t mean Robby can’t spend time with his father.”

  “But the point of all this was for us to start being a family again. We can’t do that if you aren’t here.”

  There was a long pause on the phone. “Derek... look. This isn’t working.”

  “Jules.”

  “No. This separation—it isn’t going to change.” She was hesitant, like she was avoiding telling a child that he hadn’t been invited to a friend’s birthday party. “I don’t want it to change.”

  It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on his head.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I—I think you know what I’m saying,” she said, her voice hardening.

  Uncomfortable silence.

  “Okay, just wait. We’re not doing this over the phone. Okay? Just stop.” Derek felt like he was dodging out of oncoming traffic. “Let’s just set this aside right now, we’ll see what happens, and we’ll take it slow, okay? I’ll collect Robby and we’ll try this out down here, just me and him. We’ll talk about all this later—in person.”

  There was no reply.

  Derek frantically tried to wind down the conversation. “Later. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said coolly.

  “Goodbye.”

  “Bye.”

  He hated these conversations. They definitely had some issues to work through. But Robby was coming, and he had to partition all of this off in his brain as an unnecessary distraction that would need to wait for later.

  Derek had been there right at the gate to greet his son as he walked off the plane, an unaccompanied minor complete with flight attendant escort and a set of id documents in a lanyard draped around his neck. Robby looked so little, but Derek was impressed at how aware the six-year-old was of what was going on around him. He made eye contact with the flight attendants, spoke with good manners, and wheeled his Elmo suitcase right behind him like a miniature business traveler. Then as soon as he saw his dad, he ran mad-dash into his arms and gave him the biggest hug possible out of such a little body. It was the greatest feeling in the world to hold his little boy.

  “How was your trip?” Derek asked as they walked out to the parking garage at Austin Bergstrom airport.

  “It was long. I got the window seat though. Can we charge my iPhone when we get to your house? It ran out of battery.”

  “Sure we can,” answered Derek, both impressed and troubled that a six-year-old had an iPhone.

  He only had Robby for a long weekend, from Thursday to Sunday. Derek quickly found how boring of a life he led when Robby was complaining by Friday. He worked out some tickets to the Round Rock Express baseball game that fell over flat—face it, they weren’t the Red Sox—and it was so hot outside in August that Robby declined to rent a kayak with Dad or learn how to swing a golf club at the driving range. So they rented a bunch of DVDs and watched movies, ate junk, and worked in an emergency trip to Target for some toy shopping. All the conversations and family outings that Derek had hoped to somehow pull off with Juliana had been nullified from the start.

  By the last day, Derek could tell that while Robby loved being with him, he was also ready to go home. He was excited about school. He kept talking about how he had a new backpack, a new lunchbox, new clothes. It made Derek profoundly sad. He was experiencing with tremendous clarity the differences between his hopes and reality.

  Then it was back to the airport. Park in the garage. Delayed flight, sitting in the terminal. Robby’s iPhone battery dead again. Shit. Hadn’t they just charged that thing? Finally getting ready to board—a direct flight on JetBlue, a beautiful thing. Hugs and a stoic goodbye. Robby disappearing down the jet bridge, turning once to wave one final time as the gate agent took him the rest of the way. Back to the garage. Sliding into the Audi and paying the parking girl. Back to the apartment.

  Derek was exhausted by the time he dragged himself through the front door. He went about his weekend chores in his apartment, alone. He got the dirty laundry started. He made himself eat. Soon it was all he could do to force himself to sit on his couch and turn the television on. He settled on a History Channel special about the Germans during World War II.

  He was tired. But what was worse was the depression he felt. Spending the past four days with Robby made his heart ache by seeing how fast his little boy was growing up, and how Derek seemed to be missing it. Maybe this career excursion down to work Austin was a bad idea. Juliana sure thought so. She was sending him a message by not flying with Robby. Ironic, given that Derek’s entire plan in hiring on at Netertainment had been to find a role that kept him off the road, enabling him to be a better parent.

  Derek smiled cynically with a sudden realization. A better parent. Not husband.

  Was there a truth there that he was avoiding?

  He did not feel uncomfortable at this insight, he found. Maybe Juliana was right and they were through. Had he already written her off too? Their differences felt like they were a mile wide. She wanted him to be something that went against the way God had wired him. Derek worked incredibly hard. He was devoted to seeing things through. Could he limit himself in where he applied those traits? All of those things went, with his heart and soul, into work right now. He didn’t know how to do things halfway. Could he partition his career and prioritize family at the risk of trading off accomplishment? And if he did, would he be true to himself, or would he plant a seed of resentment that would germinate years from now and wreck what was becoming a façade of a marriage?

  Would Juliana take him back?

  Did he even want her to?

  If he turned his back on his marriage, did it also mean abandoning his son?

  The thought of not being involved in Robby’s life was horrific.

  Derek looked around his apartment at the austere furnishings. He had a flat screen tel
evision mounted on the far wall. With the exception of a Sox pennant just above it, the rest of the walls were completely bare. There were no photos or picture frames anywhere. A lone halogen lamp lit the room. No magazines left out, no decorations, no plants—fake or otherwise. The entire room was very bare. He might as well have been still in the Marine Corps.

  Derek propped his forehead on his hand and stared at the carpet, wondering if there ever was really such a thing as family.

  Monday arrived early, with Derek waking at four o’clock and unable to go back to sleep. He treated himself to an hour-long jog in the dark while contemplating throwing in the towel with Netertainment. By the time he got in his car he had pushed it back out of his mind. Derek drove his Audi down MoPac Expressway until the Loop 360 exit, where he veered right and opened up the engine toward the Texas Hill Country. He loved this part of his commute. The view was incredible, and since he tended to drive on the early side of the morning, traffic was typically light and he was able to play with his speed as he drove.

  As he approached the traffic light to turn right onto the road that led to Netertainment, Derek saw a lone motorcyclist sitting there, patiently waiting out on an otherwise deserted road. He pulled up right behind him and saw that the rider was wearing a turban.

  Derek gave a short burst on his horn.

  Manmeet turned around and recognized Derek waving at him through the windshield. He was riding a massive Harley Davidson that rumbled off the limestone even when sitting there idling.

  “Nice ride!” Derek shouted.

  Manmeet shook his head, unable to hear over his own thundering drumbeat of an engine.

  Derek pointed to the bike, then gave a thumbs-up sign. The Sikh understood at last and nodded with a large grin. “I love Americana!” he shouted. Then the light turned green and they drove up to their office.