It’d been two weeks since Rakshan and his friends had decided to steal WP from Aditya. Watching CCTV footage of Adrsta from his apartment with Ravi, Rakshan turned to his friend.
“Aditya put his laptop in his Tumi Harrison a half hour ago and left for Penn Station,” Rakshan said.
“Why don’t you just say ‘his briefcase’ like a normal person?”
“Because Tumi Harrison sounds cooler.”
“No, it doesn’t; it just makes you sound like a douchebag. Also, how do you know he’s leaving for Penn Station?”
“He was on the phone with his mom during lunch and it says ‘Trip—Personal’ on his schedule for the next three days.”
“You’re sure Aditya’s with his folks for the weekend?” Ravi’s leg rocked up and down like a piston, the vibrations of his foot hitting the floor threatening to annoy the neighbors below.
Rakshan threw his arms in the air and sighed before pointing at Ravi for emphasis. “Fact: Aditya has Chad place his calls unless they’re personal, so it was a personal call he made during lunch. Fact: he has a personal trip scheduled today. Fact: his parents live close enough that he can’t avoid them for more than a week or two.”
“Fact,” Ravi said, “you’re being annoying.”
Rakshan rolled his eyes. “You agreed to trust me, remember? Don’t worry; Aditya is a good Hindu boy. He’s headed home; there’s only so long a person can go without needing his mother’s anna saaru.”
“True dat,” Ravi said, the frustration on his face turning into a smile. “Who knew a soup of rice and lentils could be so complicated and delicious?”
“And every mom makes it differently.”
Looking at his room, picturing the wicker basket of letters written to his parents, Rakshan closed his eyes. I need my family. He’d leave Sadiya love letters around his new apartment every day once they were married.
“Come on,” Ravi said, breaking him from his reverie. “The quicker we wrap up here, the quicker we can meet the boys for dinner.”
As they left the apartment, Ravi turned to his friend. “Dude?”
“Yeah?”
“I knew Aditya was headed to his parents’ for the weekend.”
“What? How?” Rakshan wore his emotions like his clothes, proudly displayed, and so Ravi couldn’t help but see the surprise plastered on his friend’s face.
“He’s taking a trip, but he doesn’t pack any WP? I’ve been watching this guy for a week. He doesn’t leave work without checking to make sure it hasn’t magically flown away from his briefcase.”
Rakshan opened his mouth and closed it again. “Then why the twenty questions?!”
“To test you! You can’t be distracted, bhai. You should know his tics by now…you’re positive this isn’t about the girl, right?”
“I told you twice, bhai.” Rakshan balled up his hands into fists, scorn dripping from his tone. “We’re gonna have problems if I need to tell you again.”
Ravi smirked. “Whatever, man. Let’s go meet the others.”
Since Ash and Krish had the most laborious assignment, coding the software they’d use to run trials in advance of the heist, Rakshan had agreed to let them pick where to eat.
What a FOAB, Rakshan thought as he stepped into Dosa House. Of course Krish would pick this place.
Immediately, the smells of turmeric and tamarind assaulted him. He remembered meals of puliyogare at the family dinner table, what he’d always called “brown rice.” For a second, a smile snuck onto his face like a rogue agent, until he remembered his father had always been absent from the table and his mother had spent the meal berating him for not doing something right. A pounding in Rakshan’s head grew louder and louder, and he considered running out right then and there until he saw his friends already waiting at a table.
“Over here,” Krish said. “We ordered some stuff already.”
“Man,” Ash said, eating as Rakshan sat down and studied the menu. “How do you not like dosa?”
“It’s got too much oil.”
“Oh yeah,” Krish teased, “the paneer makhani is much healthier.”
Rakshan rolled his eyes as the others laughed. “It’s a mental thing.”
“Yeah,” Abhinav said. “You’re mental.”
After dinner, they left the Upper West Side to head to Ash and Krish’s place in Chelsea.
“You lived together in undergrad and in grad,” Ravi said. “Don’t you two get tired of each other? Or is it just that you’ve got the perfect routine down to nab some hotties? Do you leave ties on the door, or is it more of a John Hay type deal?”
“John Hay?” Ash asked.
“You never did pay attention in history. Secretary John Hay and his Open Door Policy.”
“Krish does like his Chinese girls,” Rakshan said.
Ravi rolled his eyes as Krish grinned and took a bow.
“Okay, enough fucking around,” Ash said. “Want to learn how we’re not going to get killed doing this stupid prank?”
“Hey!” Rakshan had settled into a chair with a Kingfisher, but now stood up. “This isn’t some prank. It’s about getting what we deserve.”
Silence filled the room like a bubble, and Rakshan waited for someone to pop it. Finally, Abhinav spoke. “We all agreed why we were doing this. Does anyone have something they want to say?”
Another pregnant pause ensued, but the moment passed.
“You’re all too serious for a Friday night.” Krish grabbed a remote to put on a Spotify playlist before heading into the kitchen and returning with bourbon glasses and a handle of Johnnie Walker Black. “Finish your beer, Rakshan, because we go hard for the rest of the night.” Though Abhinav reached for the bottle, Krish pulled it away. “We’ve got some stuff to cover first. I don’t need you passing out like you did at Rakshan’s last week.” As Abhinav’s cheeks reddened, Krish hit a switch under his glass table, causing the room to go dark.
“You all know my side hustle is destroying teenage virgins in Call of Duty and Fortnite online,” he said.
“He’s so proud about that,” Abhinav said as his blush faded.
“If only his parents knew he was a man-child,” Rakshan said, adopting an overly thick Indian accent.
“What shame, Krishnaraj. Log kya kahenge?” Ravi played the role of the strict Indian dad, using Krish’s full name for greater effect.
“Are you all done?” Ash said. “This is actually pretty cool. And is going to keep us alive.” He motioned for Krish to continue.
“Thank you, Ash. As I was saying, my skills have grown exponentially since I learned C++ in high school.” Briefly leaving the living area for his bedroom, he returned with what looked like the headset Cyclops from the X-Men used to shoot lasers.
“Is that Oculus Rift?” Rakshan asked.
“Good, you’re familiar with it.” Krish nodded as he put on the device. “Like you said, I went ahead with plans to create the ultimate VR experience. Using this and what’s called the Unity game engine, I was able to develop an interactive experience that’ll simulate our planned robbery.”
“Doesn’t this kind of stuff take months and millions in funding?” Ravi asked.
“You’re right,” Ash responded, “but we’ve got a few things working for us. First, the two of us have actually spent north of a hundred hours developing this so far.”
Abhinav whistled.
“Yeah, my boss thinks I’m dealing with a relative from India and my parents think work is crazy right now. Second, the blueprints Rakshan provided did a lot of work for us.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Ash said, “the contours of the game have already been defined. We replicated the blueprints exactly.”
Rakshan was growing impatient. “Guys, just show us.”
“I’m getting there,” Ash said. “Krish, please turn the headset on.”
After the click of a button, Rakshan saw Krish hold out his hands in front of him as if he couldn’t see anymore.
“What you all will see firsthand tonight is what Krish is seeing right now,” Ash continued. “We created a replica of Aditya’s apartment complex. There are no guards in our program, but we were able to replicate the security systems, the elevators, and the layout. Over the course of this weekend, we can start running scenarios to get our plan down cold.”
“When could we strike?” Rakshan’s voice commanded the room like a strict Indian aunty. His eyebrows linked in concentration and his nostrils flared.
“As early as Tuesday,” Ash said. “He’s got a dinner meeting then. We could be in and out before he heads home.”
“That’s cutting it real close,” Ravi said. “But close is good. It means less time to get caught or make a mistake.”
“We’ve got four more of these headsets,” Ash continued. “They link together so we can all explore the complex together and map it out.”
“Game on,” Rakshan said. “Let’s vote on it one last time. I don’t want anyone saying I forced them.”
Krish turned his headset off and removed it. “Getting straight to the point, huh?”
“No need to wait around,” Rakshan said. “We’re either in or we’re out, but I think all this time and effort you and Ash put in has to be honored. Truly, guys, I’m grateful. Thank you.” He turned to Ravi, putting his beer down and holding his hands up in prayer. “We all agreed to see this through. This is our best chance, man. Like you said, the longer we wait, the more nervous we’ll all get, and nervous people make mistakes. Aditya also isn’t expecting us. We hit him hard and fast before someone at Adrsta gets smart or one of us gets tired and they spot the security breach.”
Ravi closed his eyes, muttered some words in prayer, then threw his head back in a grin, snorting in laughter before meeting Rakshan’s eyes. “Fuck you, man. No need for a vote, let’s go. It’s gonna be a long weekend.”
“Sleepovers just like high school, right?” Rakshan smiled as Ravi hugged him.
“Only this time let’s all use different beds,” Abhinav said as he poured another round for everyone.
“Yeah, wouldn’t want to deprive A.I. of a night without jerking off,” Rakshan joked.
Rakshan knew it was a cheap jab, hearing the pain in Abhinav’s voice as he tried to laugh it off.
“Who said sharing beds means I stop?”
As the night carried on, the friends put the headsets on together. Fourteen times, the team wasn’t able to navigate the apartment complex without setting off the backup security. It wasn’t until Ravi and Krish perfected a routine on the fifteenth attempt and made it all the way to the tenth floor that Aditya’s internal systems were tripped.
“Oh,” Ash said.
Ravi spoke. “In the history of the world, no one with good news has ever said ‘oh.’”
Ash took the device off and sighed before responding. “When Tyrone got us the security specifications for the building, one of the notes didn’t make sense.”
“Yes?” Ravi’s voice rose an octave.
“It’s linked to another system…a system that must belong to Aditya.”
Though it was still technically summer, the air in the room ran as cold as the tundra. “So,” Ravi whispered. “We can get through the backup security here, but once we get anywhere near Aditya’s apartment on the twelfth floor, his own security system will kick in?”
“That…is correct.” Ash took a sip of his whiskey while admiring his shoes.
“Ravi, hang on.” Rakshan stepped between the two friends. “If we pull the plug on all security, wouldn’t that take out Aditya’s, too?”
“We’d have to disconnect the power to do that!” Ravi raged. “And even if we did, how would you expect to get to the twelfth floor in that case?”
Rakshan pondered the question. “Through the stairwell…”
“Stop dicking around,” Ravi said. “This is one of the most elite buildings in the city. They’ve got cameras in the stairwell, and we don’t have the codes to turn them off. And even if we were able to cut the power, those stairwell cameras still have a backup generator.”
All eyes looked to Rakshan. The weight of the challenge in front of them pressed against his chest, threatening to crush it. This all can’t end before it even begins. Closing his eyes, he knew he couldn’t risk the lives of his brothers needlessly. But when he opened them and saw Sadiya’s face, he knew what to do.
“We’ll have to tell Tyrone’s friend to not just shut down the main system, but to cut the building’s power entirely. Krish, do you think you can get him to do that while we’re in the elevator?”
“In theory, yeah. What’s your plan?”
“We get as far up as possible to Aditya’s place on the eleventh floor, and then the doorman cuts the power. At that point, we have flashlights and use them to climb out of the top of the elevator and up the rest of the way.”
Abhinav spit his whiskey out before speaking. “Oh, no problem. I didn’t realize you were such a superstar, Rajinikanth!”
“Personally, I prefer Shah Rukh Khan,” Krish said. “Will he be joining us on this heist, as well?”
As the others mocked him, Rakshan knew he was on the verge of losing their support. I’m on the verge of losing Sadiya.
“Okay,” he said. “Maybe we don’t climb. You’ve all seen Batman; grapple hooks exist.”
“Oh,” Ash said. “We have Batman and Rajinikanth in our presence. What a treat, yaar!” He bowed and the other boys followed.
“Come on,” Rakshan said. “I’m serious. Remember that time we went rock climbing a few years back?”
“We haven’t been since,” Krish said, a weight pulling his lips down into a frown. “I don’t want us to die.”
“Please,” Rakshan said. “This could work.”
Ravi asked a question. “You’re gonna try this with or without us, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” The time for convincing them is over. I need my family.
Looking into Rakshan’s eyes, Ravi spoke. “Okay,” he said. “I’m still in.”
With his acceptance, Krish and the others agreed, as well.
“Get this liquor out of the way and get some chai in here,” Ravi added, speaking to Ash. “None of that Keurig bullshit, either; if we’re doing this, we’re going to be stone-cold sober and you’re going to make chai as good as your mom’s.”
“I don’t know if I can make the best chai you’ve ever had.”
“That’s why I didn’t ask you to make chai as good as my mom’s.”
In the early days of visiting his parents, Aditya had schlepped across the city on Metro North. That period of his life felt like ages ago; now, he took Amtrak. He always told himself that one day he’d visit them with some WP, but he’d chickened out again.
With WP in his system, though, he could have run to Hoboken on foot. He’d even tried breaking the table in his private compartment with his bare hands, but all the nights spent snorting the stuff wasn’t paying off. He’d thought by now it would be in his bloodstream—with him forever—but apparently it didn’t work that way.
Aditya shivered wildly, as if trying to throw off the shakes of drug dependence before his stop. He shouldn’t have used last night. He’d be in trouble if his dependence was visible when he met his dad at the station. Kaamat Shetty could be a severe man where his son and drugs were concerned; he still didn’t even know that Aditya drank alcohol.
In an attempt to distract himself from thoughts of drugs and daddy issues, Aditya replayed the conversation he’d had with Chad that morning. Claire’s marriage was on rocky footing, and apparently that mattered because she’d run into Rakshan and they’d spoken at length. That itself wouldn’t be so revealing, but Chad had also gotten Claire to admit that Rakshan had been around to pick up some stuff from the office. Aditya knew that place like the back of his hand. There was nothing left that would signify to anyone that Rakshan had ever worked there. Which meant Rakshan was up to something.
Just like Appa warned me.
Closing the window he’d opened for fresh air, Aditya called his security consultant.
“Karthik? I need you to keep an eye on someone for me.”
Maadhini used her small hands to part her bangs and get a better look at the woman who’d just taken her and Sadiya’s drink orders at the bar. “Our waitress is f-i-n-e, fine!”
Sadiya snorted before taking a sip of her sixth drink. After finally spilling during work today that she’d broken up with Rakshan, Maadhini had insisted on taking her to the Peacock Lounge for drinks and a show. The bar was among New York’s oldest places a drag queen could hang out and not be ashamed of their identity. My family is here, Maadhini thought. Surrounded by my queens and Sadiya.
Sadiya scanned the crowded bar for the tenth time since they’d arrived. “Do all these people know I’m not a lesbian?”
“Yeah girl, you’re sending out hella vibes,” Maadhini joked.
“Really?”
“No. We’re no weirder than you.”
Seeing Sadiya raise her eyebrows like a shield, Maadhini used a ready retort to pierce it like a spear. “Come on. You once told me you roleplayed Lord of the Rings with an ex.”
Sadiya’s cheeks colored as she took another sip of her drink.
“Easy, girl. You’re too small for whiskey.”
Sadiya slapped her friend’s knee playfully in response, spilling some of her drink on the floor. “You’re even smaller than me!” she squealed, flicking Maadhini’s bangs away. “Ugh, you have to tell me where you get your eyelashes done.”
“No changing the subject,” Maadhini said. “So, what happened?”
Sadiya leaned in, shouting to be heard amidst the loud crowd all around them. “He proposed to me in public.”
“Ugh, straight men are the worst.”
“Yeah, well, I said yes, but then, I don’t know. I put the ring on, and it just didn’t feel right.”
“Well hey, don’t worry. You’ll bounce back.”
“Don’t tell anyone else, okay?”
“You got it, ‘diya.”
Maadhini had called Sadiya that ever since grade school. For a moment, their eyes connected and Maadhini felt a shudder run through her veins. It was scary and wonderful at the same time. But the moment passed, and seconds later she saw Sadiya take out her day planner and check off an item on her list: get wasted. Sadiya called their waitress over again.
“Can I get you something?”
“Hi, my friend is kind of into you,” she said. Maadhini kicked her shins below their high-top, but that didn’t stop Sadiya. “She wanted your number.”
The waitress looked Maadhini’s four-foot-eleven frame up and down before shaking her head and walking off without bothering to respond.
“I’m gonna kill you,” Maadhini hissed.
“Oh shush, let me live vicariously through you.”
“Yeah, now neither of us is having sex tonight.”
Sadiya laughed before lowering her voice to a whisper. “What’s it like?”
“What, sex with a girl?”
“Yeah,” Sadiya said.
“Um, it’s softer. Calmer?”
“You’re not sure?”
“You kind of just have to experience it.”
Finishing her whiskey and slamming down the empty glass, Sadiya moved her chair so that it pressed up right next to Maadhini’s. “Hey girl, you want to take a selfie?”
Maadhini bent to retrieve her iPhone, but before she could, Sadiya planted a sloppy one on her.
“Sadiya?” Taken aback, Maadhini hesitated before pushing her friend back. Even still, her hands rested on Sadiya’s thighs.
What just happened? From her new vantage point, Maadhini saw her answer when she glanced at the next item on Sadiya’s list: do something reckless.
Disappointment rocketed through her as she withdrew her hands. “Girl, I ain’t no one’s rebound.”
“I want to try this.”
Maadhini’s heart ached hearing the pleading in Sadiya’s tone. Her best friend looked at her with such longing and sorrow that Maadhini hoped the ground would open from under her so that she no longer had to face the pain in Sadiya’s eyes. But then the moment passed and she remembered the pain that defined her love life. She remembered college, and drunken declarations of love followed by sober realizations of truth. She remembered Rebecca, the woman who’d thought she was a lesbian and used her like a towel, expunging that experimental phase from her body. I can’t go through this again…not with anyone, and especially not with her.
“It isn’t something you try on like an outfit, ‘diya…”
Sexuality was fluid for so many people, but not for Maadhini. She knew who she was and couldn’t bear to discover Sadiya’s truth. She wouldn’t know what to do if her best friend disappointed her, and so she determined to live in the dark. “You’re just sad about Rakshan,” she said. “When you figure out what you actually want, I’ll be here.”
Leaving a twenty on their table, Maadhini kissed her friend’s cheek before leaving her alone.
In the two weeks since he’d found the diamond ring laced with WP, Jerome hadn’t mentioned it to anyone in person. Online, though, was a different situation. After downloading Tor on his computer so he could browse the Dark Web securely, he’d found an online marketplace called the Silk Road where he connected with someone calling himself Spartacus. Luckily enough, the man said he was located in the city and was willing to extract the stones and leave Jerome with the WP-laced ring.
That was how Jerome had found himself all the way in Brooklyn. He’d told his mom he was going to a study session for precalc. She’d asked questions, but that was why he was friends with the class nerd.
He was gifted for a sixteen-year-old, he knew that, and some WP would help take his gifts to a whole new level. He could get into a good college, get a good job on the side, and move his mom into a nicer place. I’m gonna get us sorted straight, give mom the life she deserves. Everything would work out perfectly. Walking to a basement flat, Jerome knocked on the door. A thin calculator presented itself from the mail slot.
“Type in the code we discussed.” The voice was distorted, like one of those movies where someone left a ransom message. Jerome typed in what Spartacus had sent him: 108.
“Show me the ring.”
When Jerome did, a white man in his forties with a southern drawl and mangy black hair opened the door and pulled him inside. The only things within the apartment were a bed, mini fridge, and bathroom on the far side of the room, a computer on top of a desk near the front door, a modem, and two open garbage bags with clothes in them. The floor was carpeted, but by the looks of it, hadn’t been cleaned in years, if ever; crumbs of junk food were visible everywhere. A few pairs of socks with holes in them peeped out from under the bed like anxious guests. On top of the bed lay a book—A Dark Moon Rises: WP and the Vietnam War.
Jerome’s ears twitched. Through his pants, he pinched his leg before speaking. I can’t seem too eager. He reminded himself to find that book in the library. “What’s with the garbage bags?”
“Don’t ask too many questions.” Walking to his laptop, Spartacus sat down at his desk. “The ring. Now!”
Too scared to protest, Jerome took it off and set it on the desk. Only then did he notice the desk had two drawers and that the man was retrieving a knife from one of them. Spartacus started his work, but paused upon seeing Jerome’s expression. “Relax. If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.”
Far from being comforted by this news, Jerome stepped closer to the front door.
“How’d you find this, kid?”
Summoning up all the courage in his body, Jerome responded. “Don’t ask too many questions.”
Spartacus grunted, a sliver of a smile on his chapped lips. “Fair enough.”
Half an hour passed before the man had extracted the diamond and all of its sapphires. He whistled as he held the central stone under a loupe he’d retrieved from the second drawer.
“Yeah, these’ll work as payment.” When he smiled, Jerome could see his teeth. It was as if he brushed them with butter.
“That’s not what we agreed on. The central stone is enough. You could leave me a couple sapphires.”
“You got balls, kid,” the man said. “And for that, I’m gonna help you out with some free advice: you aren’t gonna be able to pawn this off anywhere else. So be grateful for what I’m doing for you.”
Getting up, he handed Jerome the unassuming ring. “Quit your whining and just put this on. Then tell me if you’re satisfied or not.”
The second Jerome slipped it on, he was reminded of all that was possible and all that was holding him back. Even with his eyes closed, he knew exactly where Spartacus was and what the man had eaten for lunch. Opening his eyes, he thought about just snapping the man’s neck and leaving.
“I know that look, boy, the look of someone tasting power for the first time. There are four cameras here livestreaming to my own private server hosted on the Dark Web. I bet you could take out two of them before killing me, but not all four. I got friends like you wouldn’t believe.”
Jerome stood by the door, wondering if he should test out Spartacus’s theory. His hand was on the doorknob.
“Here’s another secret: you think I’m some backbencher? I fucking founded the Silk Road.”
Jerome thought he’d pass out as he heard his heart race. What did I just get myself into? Still, a gnawing in his stomach compelled him to dream bigger. He’d tasted power now and could never go back.
“You’ve got the hunger. This isn’t your first taste of WP, is it?”
Jerome shook his head as he remembered how he’d found the ring. He felt alive now in ways he hadn’t imagined possible, but as good as the feeling was, it didn’t compare to the first time he’d slipped the ring on. I need more.
“They’re talking about legalizing it, you know?” Spartacus’s teeth gleamed yellow when he grinned. “Why not just wait for Senator Begaye to rescue you? Why get caught up with a bad seed like me?”
“You can’t trust politicians for shit,” Jerome said. “They try to bury seeds like us.”
Spartacus let out a mirthless laugh that would have sent shivers down Jerome’s spine if he hadn’t felt like a god now. “You and me aren’t the same, brother. There is no us—don’t ever forget that if you want to stay alive.”
A silence permeated the room. Jerome’s mind was telling him to leave, but his body was becoming as sharp as the knife Spartacus had used. With a finger, he traced the outline of newly forming abs under his shirt. He couldn’t leave, and Spartacus must have known it, because he broke the silence between them like a bulldozer taking down a wall.
“That being said, I’ve got some jobs for you if you’re willing. The money won’t be much, but the power will be extraordinary.”
Taking his hand off Spartacus’s doorknob, Jerome sat down and listened.