International Waters, Pacific Ocean

Ava had alerted him that a building weather system to the south was going to visit them tomorrow, but he hadn’t expected human contact until San Diego. He was beginning to learn that waves and wind were more predictable than his new boss. Olin Ou had another surprise for Hank, and now the GalaxSea was hove-to anxiously in the lee of a two hundred and fifty foot superyacht.

The name JOY II was illuminated above the fantail swim deck. Thin, oversized letters slowly rose out of sight, as the clamshell garage door opened revealing a soft blue light inside. What looked like a ski-boat lowered out of the midline and into the water, leaving at least two personal watercrafts on either side. As they moved into the light radiating from the interior, Olin’s quick gait and Willy’s sturdy commitment to each step couldn’t be missed. A couple of other people scurried about, but their movements and silhouettes were not recognizable to Hank.

He caught a glimpse of a ponytail, and as the launch motored closer, he saw the perfect posture of Irina. It contrasted sharply with her brother Marshall, who slouched into the rear seat. Olin’s two oldest children were incredibly different. Hank had never seen Marshall stand up straight but imagined him to be at least a few inches taller than his younger sister.

The launch that ferried the newcomers from the superyacht looked out of place in the middle of the ocean. It was elegant with its long, narrow design, sloped windshield, and highly polished wood decks with chrome trim. It would be more at home shuttling guests to and from extravagant parties off the coast of Italy. The bow line slapped against the GalaxSea as he wrapped the line around the cleat. Hank moved to the stern and extended his hand to Olin, and together they helped everyone and their gear aboard.

“Now that the Ou family invasion force is in place, care to let me in on your little surprise?” Hank asked.

Olin stood just inches away from Hank and even though both men were within an easy reach of the starboard wheel, neither man interfered with the steering or sails as the boat maneuvered flawlessly onto a new tack. The new course set them on a beam reach, ninety degrees to the wind. It was a relaxed point of sail, and even in the low light, Hank could see Olin’s smile as they accelerated away from the superyacht.

Willy bust out of the forward hatch in a slurry of mumbling profanity. The moon and low puffy clouds were playing peekaboo, but he could see Willy as he waved at the air. It looked like the big man was swatting at flies, and Hank suppressed a laugh as Willy emerged into the dim red glow of the main deck and reported the condition of the forward quarters. He turned to see Olin fighting hard to match Willy’s seriousness.

“Those ingrates left my place a mess. Stuff all over… and it smells.”

“After the stun grenade, I had Spock air it out, but we had to dog the hatch when I turned to rendezvous with you,” Hank said.

“Who the hell is Spock?”

Olin spoke up. “Our new first mate. Happens that Ava let Hank program her alter ego.”

“Oh, great. I suppose Scotty’s in the engine room and Uhura’s on comms?”

“Not yet, but it sounds like fun,” Hank said.

Willy shook his head in disbelief and asked, “Olin, I’ve got a small arsenal to unpack. Do you need me for anything?”

“No, Willy. It’s been a long day and I’ve got some catching up to do with Hank.”

“I’ll check back and see if you need anything after I’m squared away,” Willy said.

In the moonlight, it was easy to see Olin’s nod of approval. Hank glanced at his own watch. Two hours to sunrise. The old chronograph's dim, luminous hands showed the time but had faded through hours of darkness. It was how Hank felt—diminished—but whatever Olin needed to say couldn’t wait, so he propped his legs up and laid back into the deck cushions.

“I have a gift for you.” Olin reached down into a bag made of sailcloth and pulled out a small, thin box and handed it to Hank. “Let’s just say, after the skirmish in Vancouver, you deserve something extra. Who knows, it might become a treasured possession.”

Hank clicked the flat box open to find a coin inside. Just as he tried to illuminate it in the moonlight, a cloud obscured the light. He lowered it to pick up the red glow of the deck lighting and turned it slowly while admiring its heft. “I can see the likeness of a man, but I can’t make out the words in this light. What is this?”

“That’s partly because there are no words, just my nerdy attempt at humor. The coin is made from rhodium. The engraving is the crypto-representation of the non-fungible token for this coin's exclusive artwork. You own it in every way. Two ounces of pure rhodium is worth what the market will bear. Beyond that, I commissioned twenty coins to be hand-engraved to commemorate my favorite historical figures. You now own the one and only NFT of Augustus Saint’s depiction of the economist, Thomas Sowell.” His smile disappeared. “I’ve not been entirely honest with you to this point, and I want to get things straight.”

“What things?”

“First. I set you up to be boarded by the Navy.”

“What? Why would you do that?” Hank wanted to be offended but couldn’t dig deep enough to find outrage. Whether it was the gift Olin had just given him or that he was too tired to care, didn’t matter. Things were getting interesting, and he liked it. He breathed deep and said, “What’s going on?”

“I’ve got a lot of irons in the fire.” Olin’s smile broke out again in the moonlight. “This might all be easier with a bottle of wine, but even I have my drinking hours. What I have to say can’t wait. It’s time you had the whole truth. I’m going to read you into my world. We’re not going to San Diego. At least not this GalaxSea. Of course, you are free to stay or leave. There are some logistical concerns. Otherwise, I’d wait for a more agreeable hour. You must make your decision before sunrise. Until then, I’m an open book.”

Hank noticed Olin’s eyes dart around manically, then steadied, as if a fleeting wave of paranoia passed through him. Unlike Hank’s relaxed posture, Olin was kneeling like a samurai preparing for battle. Curious or not, Hank would not match his boss’s tension. He relaxed even deeper into his comfortable incline to hear the rest.

“As you can imagine, by the time the press was trying to figure out my net worth, my life could never be simple again. Fortune has its own issues but fame—well, I’m not cut out for that. While I have all the resources to bury most of the facts around my wealth, the gossip is unrelenting. Especially in the States. I can take it, even ignore it, but there is a toll. As my children grow, and as we simply try to do life as a family, it gets harder each year. We’ve tried getting away from it all. We even bought a ranch in the middle of nowhere Montana, but that also has its problems.

“I’m not naïve. As long as I’m in league with the richest people in the world, I’ll get more attention than I want… more than anybody should have. So, I’m going to make some drastic changes. I’ll tell you most of it now. The rest will be clear after my ‘press conference’ later today.

“Almost nobody chooses their country. It’s forced upon them by the location of their birth. When my family immigrated, I joined them in becoming a citizen of the United States. I chose to be an American and I’m so very thankful for the opportunities that great country offered all of us. But that was then.

“I could leave it like that, but I think you need to know my rationale before you decide to sail on or leave. There comes a time that each man must decide what he believes. I’m still looking for that in the spiritual realm. A priest I admire once said, ‘We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience.’ I’ve tethered every aspect of my life into that insight and I’m being patient. God will reveal that in his time, but I have absolute certainty regarding the US government and the direction it's going.

“The US isn’t only bloated with power-hungry bureaucrats and politicians, it’s morally bankrupt. The political elite, with token exceptions, are self-serving narcissists. Their unceasing interventionism has spoiled everything that made America great in the first place. They sell regulations to the highest bidder. It’s not the marketplace of free exchange and ideas that determines success. It’s the bureaucrats. They manipulate every sector of the economy, systematically easing any risk from the people in control and distributing it on the backs of the powerless. Their obsession with do-something-politics burdens the people with misguided laws that ruin the lives of those who don’t have the resources, money, or time to defend themselves.

“They’ve made a mockery out of our currency. At one time, a dollar was honest money, backed by gold. Now it’s propped up only by their ability to extort confidence—smoke and mirrors, threats and guns—it's a house of cards. They insist on having their paws into every aspect of our lives and think that it's their business to know everything we do, and with whom. They treat us like cattle, and they see themselves as the rancher who knows best. I suppose we are like cattle. Penned in, caged up, and fed a steady diet of precisely what they want us to experience. They decide when we get slaughtered.”

Hank sat up and said, “Don’t you think your rhetoric is over the top? I know things aren't perfect, but we’re not exactly getting slaughtered.”

Olin rose out of his kneeling position and perched on the edge of the bench. “If you stay with me long enough, Ava can show you the truth. But for now, I’ll put it this way. You’ve seen icebergs floating in calm seas?” Olin asked rhetorically. “Above water is only the tip. Seven-eighths is fully under the surface. We cannot see the entirety of what’s exposed. Even from a distance, you’re only able to take in the view from one side. But imagine you are up close, really close, holding on to the frozen margins like a climber clinging to life. That is our view. The vantage point of what we can see is minuscule and our perspective is limited. Both sides of the political aisle have embraced the legacy of quick-to-war and quicker to international policing. The excuse is good intentions, but the results are the same. History shows us we are among the most notorious thugs and gangsters of the world.

“Most people have been pissed off, and they put their head back down and get back to the grind and subject themselves to the forced slavery of taxation. They persuade themselves, it’s not so bad and besides, it could be worse. Well, I’m not going to take it anymore. I’ve renounced my citizenship and, in the meantime, I’m breaking a boat-load of laws. If you decide to stay, I’ll explain each law I’m breaking and why.

“Don’t get the idea I’m going all Bonnie and Clyde here. I have a future. Ava is keeping track of the probability for success and it’s very high.” Olin lifted his head to the left. “Ava, where are we at?”

Ava’s delightful voice with her Scottish accent was different. The tone was aggravated, and perfectly reflected the rebellious mood Olin was conjuring. “I’m glad you asked, Mr. Ou. There have been some changes since last week. Would you like to know the probability of success with Hank Gunn on board or if he leaves the GalaxSea?”

Olin did not answer, and Hank sat up and put his feet on the deck. He never considered that what he did could matter. Now he was forced to remember why he was chosen to be on board in the first place. Olin, and even Ava, seemed to think Hank was lucky. Even though they had made their point with holographic evidence, statistical analysis, and even video documentation, Hank thought the idea preposterous. Luck is not even a thing, and when Olin offered the idea of a guardian angel, it all seemed even more ridiculous. But now he waited for Olin to answer Ava, and he wanted to know the probabilities—both ways.

Finally, Olin spoke. “Ava, let's get Hank’s decision first. He has until sunrise and his decision needs to be his alone. Now he knows why we are going, but he needs to know where.” Olin stared hard into Hank's eyes.

“We’re sailing to Indonesia. Of course, I want you to come along. Maria and the twins will be there when we arrive, but we have to sail through uncertain seas and I’d rather you be the skipper. Once we arrive, I’ll be proud to show you the lush island of Trita. There is a population of two thousand five hundred and seven people.” Olin’s eyes blinked with emotion and his face beamed with excitement. “Six women will have their babies by the time we get there. Positive change is already occurring.” He wiped a tear from the corner of one eye.

“Technically, I own Trita, but practically, I’m the steward. In exchange for status as a Special Economic Zone, I have contracted to care for the people. I provide healthcare, education, and infrastructure. This is not new. I've been quietly making this a reality for years and now we’re ready to move there permanently. I’m telling you all this because I want you to make an informed decision. I’ll tell you everything you need to know, so if you have any questions, now's a great time to ask.”

“Okay,” Hank said. “Really, what do I have to do with any of this? It can’t be that you still think I’m your good luck charm. I’ve been shot in the butt, sank my own sailboat, busted up my hip, and lost my little toe.”

Olin shook his head slightly and said, “We can let my thoughts on that go for now. But I do feel that I owe you. Other than getting shot in the butt, I’ve had… let's say, a heavy influence in those other situations. In a way, you got caught in my wake and I felt responsible for causing you harm—or at least taking advantage of you without full disclosure. That's why I’ve given you opportunities along the way. But it seems like every time you take me up on something, I’m the one that feels more guilty. Another reason for my timing here is that I’m feeling like we are square. You can walk away, and I won’t lose any sleep.”

“Olin, what makes you think I would have done anything different? You’ve given me more than I could have imagined. You got me out of a tight spot with my shrink at the VA and out of the country that was forming a noose around my neck. You took me into your admittedly eccentric family and treated me like a favorite nephew. And hell, you gave me this great delivery job.”

“I like the favorite nephew analogy. It fits. I want you by my side. Besides, heretics need as many accomplices as possible.”

Willy stepped into the cockpit and walked toward them. “And here I just thought you were the sailing instructor. But Hank the heretic has a nice ring to it,” Willy said with a smile.

Olin chuckled, and Hank watched his intensity ease as he relaxed back into the cushions behind him. He stretched his right hand outward, signaling Hank to look behind him. “And now to complete the drama.”

Hank turned around and saw a dark sail cutting across the ruddy horizon. The other sailboat and the GalaxSea were on converging courses, and he guessed they would meet up in a little less than half an hour. “I give up. It looks like one of the sister ships. Don’t tell me… part of your shell game?”

“You could say that, and the third GalaxSea should come from that direction.” Olin motioned his arm upward with a thumb pointing behind him.

Hank followed the gesture but saw only dark water and low clouds. He stretched his neck and looked at the radar screen. Olin was right. There was a vessel in the direction he was pointing, but the curve of the earth or cloud cover blocked it from sight.

“Soon all three GalaxSeas will be together for the last time and we will scatter on different courses. If you decide to leave, you can take either and I’ll make sure you're picked up quietly out to sea and taken anywhere in the world. Quietly is the operative word here. As much scrubbing as Ava can do, I’m afraid my stain will cause you trouble for some time to come.”

“What about the tracking device the Navy and the UN put in when they boarded me? That thing is sealed in place. They can follow you to the ends of the earth,” Hank said.

“That’s what I’m counting on. Finally, each boat has one.” Olin patted the deck stretching away from the top of the molded bench seat and said, “Thanks to the US Navy, the UN will know exactly where we want them to think we are. Ava is in charge of the destination of the yachts… real or imagined, they will never know where we truly are. Remember, before I was an evil entrepreneur, I was an electrical engineer. Satellite telemetry. They liked the cannon-ball system I invented so much, I let them think they stole the software.” He smiled. “Amateurs.” This time Olin’s laugh really did sound evil.

Olin fell silent a little too fast for Hank’s comfort. He glanced at Willy to see if he noticed anything strange about Olin's reaction, but his face was impassive.

Even though the clouds to the east kept dawn at bay, sunrise was only minutes away. Hank had made his decision a long time ago, and an awkward silence wasn’t likely to change his mind. But he was glad when Olin came out of his trance and continued.

“Ava oversees that part of the deception. I’m sure an AI as advanced as she is has a few tricks planned to keep everybody guessing. Certainly, there is some theater, but it’s mostly practical. As you found out, leaving a country with the resources of the US is like escaping a prison island, like Alcatraz. And sailing into the sunset isn’t as romantic as it seems, especially when the sharks have military capabilities.”

“If that’s the case, what makes you think Indonesia is any better?” Hank asked.

Olin sat up like he was eager to share a secret, an elbow propped into the backrest and a curious tilt to his head. “Have you ever read Atlas Shrugged?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Hank said.

“If you stay aboard, you’ll want to. For now, all I can say is I have places where it won’t be easy for authorities to take me alive.” Olin’s expression was dead serious, then eased into a smile as he said, “How do you like that for drama?”

“Not bad. You’ve told me to ask any questions, so don’t get me wrong, this is a really nice boat and all, but what is a billionaire, two of his children, and his bodyguard doing on a yacht this small? I would think you would travel by private jet or at least something twice as big with a full crew.”

Willy raised an eyebrow, looking anxious to hear Olin’s answer.

Olin chuckled. This was the first time he appeared uncomfortable about one of Hank's questions.

“All air travel is carefully tracked, and certain people's jets have been known to crash for no reason. As for sailing this beautiful yacht… sure, it’s only eighty feet long, but remember, I sponsored an around-the-world sailing race of boats not to exceed seven meters. You see, I love to sail and the smaller the boat, the better the sailing experience. Besides, Maria and the twins needed the mega-yacht to get to where we’re going. They’ve already arrived in Panama, boarded it and… let’s just say, they’ll beat us there.”

“Nice spin. But not exactly the answer I was looking for, so let me rephrase it. You say you're breaking the law. What type of father would bring his kids along for that kind of ride?”

“Ava, are the children asleep?” Olin asked.

“Yes, they probably will be for at least another hour,” Ava answered.

“Hank, that’s a fair question. Frankly, a year ago I would have never considered bringing them.” Olin leaned closer to Hank, quieting his voice. “I’ve not been the best dad. I’m the first to admit it. I’ve not been there as much as I wanted or as much as my family needed. So, I did what most fathers in that position do—I indulged them. I realized I was preparing them for life in a world of affluence. Where personal relationships are secondary to material things. In that world, a healthy reverence for the reality of life is severed.”

Olin hesitated and deflected his eyes into the darkness of the companionway. Turning back, his penetrating gaze landed on Hank and with more force than before, said, “They aren't prepared for what’s coming. Marshall is addicted to gaming. Irina relies on her looks. Both think everything will always be taken care of. Now, I’m doing what I can to correct some of that.” His countenance lightened, and he smiled, eyes squinting. “I told the kids they had no choice. Marshall pushed back until I told him he could either join us on this voyage or become a priest. Irina? Well, she wanted to come.”

The sky continued to grow lighter, but the sun hadn’t quite broken over the clouds.

Hank stiffened and said, “Of course, I’m on board with you. The destination has never been important to me. I need a job and I love to sail. Willy just reminded me I’m your sailing instructor and you’re going to need me.” Hank stood up and rocked into Olin’s space with his hand out. Olin's eyes almost disappeared as he smiled and stood up, accepting the handshake.

This time it was Hank's turn to lower his voice. “I know you're serious about this voyage. About your kids. I’ve still got a lot of questions, but I think you need to know that it’s a desperate move you're taking to help your kids grow up.” Hank fell silent, as if stuck in mid-sentence. He glanced at Willy.

“What do you mean by desperate?” Olin asked.

“A man has to either hate his kids or love them to do what you're doing. Either way, it's some type of desperation to aim a boat into a hurricane.”