Chapter 16
Colin’s target was Legend Inc., a publicly traded maker of electronic games based in North Carolina’s Research Triangle Park.
Industry analysts had long classed it as a one-hit wonder.
Their first major release, a syfy adventure called Barsoom, had been a global hit.
But they had rushed the sequel and relied too heavily on their ongoing success. The second game had bombed.
For the past four years, Legend had been developing a new game.
During this same period, however, the industry had undergone seismic shifts.
The user platforms, from laptops to Nintendo, had all seen major upgrades.
The industry analysts working for the major banks and investment funds downgraded the company.
As Colin worked his calculations, he visualized a flock of vultures in fancy suits and ties circling far overhead.
For a month and eleven days following his investment, nothing happened.
Colin’s biggest relief to that nerve-wracking wait came from meeting Mira.
She texted once or twice each week, suggesting a time when she could swing by.
Usually they frequented a café in the Mayfaire outdoor mall.
Occasionally her lifeguard schedule meant they’d meet at the club’s coffee shop.
Lucas was usually with her at the club. Colin liked her boyfriend but vastly preferred being alone with Mira, listening to her talk.
Once she took him to a favorite bistro for a meal after she finished school, just the two of them.
That was the most special time of all. Mira drove a bright yellow VW convertible, a perfect vehicle for a beautiful young woman.
Colin never said how nervous he was when she drove too fast and was too quick to use the horn.
Not to mention how she spent as much time looking at him as the road.
They never spoke about the investment. She never asked why he was skipping so many swim lessons.
Mira talked about her life, her work with the Young Republicans, her relationship with Lucas, her application to the University of Virginia.
The topic did not matter. For those brief interludes, Colin was able to set aside the pressures and the fears. She talked, he absorbed.
He wondered if her relationship with Lucas filled the void from the loss of her twin.
After that first conversation, Mira never again brought the topic up.
He did not want to risk the pleasure of those hours by touching on a sensitive issue.
But for Colin, every meeting reinforced the sense that theirs was a bond that went far beyond two new friends.
The remainder of that interminable period, Colin barely slept. He skipped meals. He paced. He ran his calculations six, seven, eight times a day. Each new shred of information was a reason to panic.
Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, the Uber driver was waiting out front when he emerged at seven o’clock.
The morning and afternoon commutes to and from UNCW took around twenty minutes, depending on traffic.
He was signed up for three classes: calculus two and three, and advanced problem solving.
Fremdt taught both the calculus classes. APS was handled by a postdoc.
Those first weeks at UNC Wilmington passed in a featureless blur.
The classes were challenging, but despite his serrated schedule he found himself able to follow everything.
When his professors called on him, Colin managed to respond.
He got several things wrong, but if either professor noticed his superficial study habits they did not mention it aloud.
Outside of classes Colin was stared at, but no one bothered him.
Or at least if they did, he couldn’t be bothered to notice.
He stopped attending academy classes altogether.
Six weeks after the funds had been invested, Arnold stopped by the house. “Where have you been?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
“You don’t …” He took a long look at Colin. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing’s the matter. I’m tired, is all.”
“Your teachers are raising a stink.”
“I can’t go to class anymore. I just can’t.”
“And you missed our last appointment.”
“I didn’t. … We had an appointment?”
They were seated in the computer room. Colin hated using the house equipment, with the sticky keyboards and the hostile looks that tracked him.
He was an oddity now, even among the Sojourn House residents.
The place that once had been his refuge had become just another cage.
The confines of his room were growing ever tighter.
He came down occasionally when the other students were in class.
Wandering from room to room, returning now and then to the screens.
Whenever he was working downstairs, he used three computers.
This allowed him to run the calculations from two different directions and follow the market graphs on a third.
He saw Arnold studying the minute-to-minute updates in stock prices, and started to swipe the screen clean. But then he decided it didn’t matter.
“What is this, Colin?”
“A project. For school.” It had not grown any easier to lie. Despite how almost all his life was centered upon the secrets he dared not share. Not yet. But soon.
Arnold insisted they go for a walk. “Maybe we were in error, letting you start university so soon.”
The daylight hurt his eyes. He went because at least he could breathe clean air. “No. It’s great.”
“It doesn’t look great. It looks like the pressure is about to crush you.”
“Everything is new, that’s all.”
“Braxos came to see me. He wants to know if you’re still registered as a student here. He says he’s about to give you a failing grade.” When Colin responded by laughing out loud, Arnold’s tone hardened. “This is serious, Colin. I’ve explained the situation. But you need to show up.”
“I’ll sit his exams. All of them. But no classes.”
“You don’t have the right—”
“I can’t attend them anymore. I just can’t.”
Thankfully, Arnold responded by changing the subject. “Professor Fremdt says he is going to recommend you be matriculated in the fall.”
Colin knew he had to respond. “That’s great.”
“You don’t sound happy.”
“It’s a lot right now.”
“I can see that.” Arnold stopped beneath a vast cypress. “Will you try to get some sleep? And look at your clothes. They’re falling off you.”
“I’ll take better care. I promise.” He watched Arnold walk away, the man bowed beneath new worries.
Colin wanted to race after him, confess.
Instead, he forced himself to turn away.
Walk back to the house. Climb the front stairs.
Draw up his calculations once more. Reenter the electronic hurricane of his own making.
Fifty-three days after Lucretia Vaughan followed his instructions and took a long position on their stock, the gaming industry’s two major journals both broke the story.
Their specialists had been invited to take part in beta testing the new project.
Legend’s new game was, in their mutual opinion, nothing short of sensational.
In the eighteen days that followed their online announcements, the stock went from a dollar and eleven cents per share to six and change.
When his ongoing calculations raised the first red flag, Colin was almost glad to call Lucretia and order her to sell. Sell everything.
Twelve minutes later, Roland called him back. “Are you sure this is the right move?”
“I am. Yes.”
“I’m only asking because the Journal’s online news feed is singing Legend’s praises. I have it up on my screen as we speak.”
Colin was hunched over the straight-back chair in his bedroom.
He could hear the other students moving back and forth along the downstairs corridor, carrying their evening meal to the dining table.
Colin had not realized another day had almost ended until he noticed the smells.
They made him nauseous. He knew he needed to eat, but he wasn’t certain he could keep anything down. “That’s why we’re selling.”
“Expand on that for us.”
“Who is with you?”
“Aaron’s here in my office. Lucas is on his way over. Ethan and Mira are on the other line.”
“The news is out,” Colin replied. “My calculations show the crest is either now, or happening soon.”
“Hang on, let me tell Ethan.” He waited as Roland relayed the message. Then, “Aaron says we should stop jiggling your elbow and trust you.”
There was no reason why the words should make him want to weep. “I have to go.”
“Wait. What do we do now?”
“Nothing. For the moment, we watch.”
He cut the connection, descended the stairs, and joined the others in the dining room.
The chamber held one larger table for eight, two for four, and two others for three.
It was an odd situation, but it worked. The atmosphere was more casual and intimate than if everyone was forced to sit together.
There were always a few empty chairs, which also helped.
Colin filled his plate from the chafing dishes lining the sideboard.
He chose the one empty table and ate alone.
He had no idea whether he had been assigned kitchen duty.
He had not glanced at the board holding the weekly list of chores since all this began.
He helped bus the tables, then accepted the two dish towels from Camila, one damp and one dry, and cleaned all the dining room surfaces.
He felt like a robot with its battery almost flat.
Unfeeling, uncaring. Just going through the motions.
When he reentered the kitchen, Camila accepted the two towels and pointed him to the drying rack. Wiping down the dishes and putting them away meant he was the last student to finish.
As he closed the side cupboard, Camila said, “You been skipping meals. You sleeping okay?”
It was their first real conversation in six years. “Some. Not a lot.”
“You’re losing weight. If you’re sick, you need to tell the lady.”
“I’m not sick.”
“You sure about that, are you?” Dark eyes surveyed his form. “I guess you look all right, except for those plum bruises you got under your eyes.”
“I want to stop being so fat.”
She turned back to scrubbing the stove with a wire brush. “Well, you’re going about it all wrong. What you want is to get yourself in shape. Eat right. Sleep. Exercise. That’s how you lose weight and keep it off.”
“I like to swim.”
“When was the last time you got in the pool?”
“I don’t …” He had trouble figuring out it was Friday.
Which was when he realized he had missed several lessons.
“I went last Sunday. No, wait. That was … four Sundays ago.” He felt vaguely ashamed.
That so much time, so many weekends could pass unnoticed.
But it was all he could do just to hold himself together.
“You should be doing something every day.” She used a soiled towel to go over the stove top. “You head off for your classes so early, you eating any breakfast?”
“I get a glass of juice sometimes.”
“That ain’t enough.” She pointed at the three refrigerators lining the side wall.
“Look in that middle one. Down there at the bottom. Those yogurts are meant for Grant, but I’ll tell him.
He won’t mind you sharing. You take one, you mix it with fruit from the bowl.
Apple, banana, something. Then you put some of them bran flakes on top. ”
“That sounds awful.”
“Don’t matter how it sounds. You got to eat a balanced diet, you want to lose weight and get in shape.
That starts with breakfast. Else you’ll just put the weight back on faster than you lost it.
” She went back to scrubbing. “I imagine you just ate yourself some meat and a pile of potatoes. With gravy, I bet. How many vegetables did you put on your plate?”
“I don’t like them.”
“Now you’re sounding like a child. You want me to treat you like a little boy, or a man?”
Colin had no idea how to respond, and remained silent.
“Balanced diet,” she repeated. “Cut down on the fat and the carbs. You’re a smart boy, check out what I’m telling you online.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t need to. I’ll do what you say.”
“Three meals each day. Stop skipping. Don’t matter how busy you are. And eat smarter.” She pointed at the exit. “Now you go get yourself some rest. And remember what I told you.”