Ensenada
Baja California, Mexico
Gar grabbed a cerveza from the fridge, slid open the door, and stepped out onto his balcony. He was leaning against the railing and staring down into the sparkling turquoise waters of the Sea of Cortez when his off-brand phone buzzed in his pocket.
He took a pull on the icy beer and then thumbed the display open. He had a notification from NomadCoders, the job board that was keeping his alter ego of Rodrigo Pablo Roberto in beer and fish tacos. He frowned when he saw that it was a private message and not one of the jobs he’d bid on.
His frown bloomed into a smile when he read the sender’s handle: Captain Quackers.
There was only one person that could be. He pulled up the message:
Assume by now you’ve seen the news. Rock hacked Leith Delone’s dystopian hell app. Thinking about moving on from here. Up for a visit?
He messaged back:
I’ll pick you up in SY. Let me know time and date.
The response came back as a Vigenère cipher. It took him two more beers to decode it, and when he did, he still wasn’t sure what it meant. The details about time and date made sense, but at the end, Petra had tacked on one more sentence: You’re my favorite flavor of weird.
He shrugged and returned the phone to his pocket. He’d find out in person the day after tomorrow. But right now, he had a sunset to watch.
48
Sasha raced into the house and pulled the door shut in a hurry. “Brr!”
Finn and Fiona ran over to greet her.
“Mommy’s home!”
“Did you bring the pizza?”
She gestured toward the large white box with red lettering that she’d just placed on the coffee table and gave them a sidelong look. “Nope. Totally forgot to pick up the pizza.”
Giggling, they raced off to let their dad know she was home. She kicked off her boots and was hanging up her coat when Connelly walked into the room holding a glass of chianti in each hand.
“Happy Friday.” He handed her one of the goblets and gave her a warm kiss.
“Happy Friday yourself.” Before he could grab her boots and line them up like little soldiers, she kicked them into the closet and pulled the door shut.
“So, you know how we agreed not to withhold information anymore?”
“If that’s not an ominous opening, I don’t know what is. Ithinkwe agreed not to withhold information unless it was classified as top-secret national security secrets, lawyer-client privileged, or anything we pinky-swore with the kids not to share.”
“I stand corrected, counselor.”
“But yes, I remember.” She studied his face. “I’ve forgiven you for the Landon thing, but I don’t think I want to know if you’ve had another ‘please save the world’ package delivered. It’s the end of a long week, Maisy stole my floor space, and I’m tired, Connelly.”
“Maisy stole your floor space?”
“More accurately, Jakegaveit to her because his crush is out of control. I’ll tell you later. What’s your news?”
“Well, it’snotthat we need to stop artificial intelligence from taking over the world.”
“I’ll drink to that. What is it?”
“I can’t keep this from you any longer. I donated the Monopoly board to the game library.”
“You did what?”