I Told You, Eli Oxley

Chapter Twenty-Three

It's been a while since I talked about my dad and the scheme to hack him and such, so I should probably return to that.

In between all the let's-get-to-know each other video chats with Kara and the post-nursing home make-out session with Al, we at the 14:21 house struggled with the first leg of the formidable mountain we had set out to scale.

Hacking a bank or an ATM was easy. Just finding, not even to the hacking part, a second-tier of an account was the difficult part. Was it just my dad's account that had another level to it? Or did the entire bank have a second-level infrastructure in place for anyone needing to hide their money (or whatever else it could be used for)?

Before we began hacking my dad's real-life bank, we explored different avenues to approach the problem via the same computer program they used on me for my initiation exam. David tweaked the program, creating several scenarios that we might encounter, which meant JT might hit a certain obstacle while Brett hit another, even if they employed the same strategy and tactics. He also programed the bank to have varying levels of security, ranging from breaking into its system by entering in 'admin' as the username and 'password' as the password, to the bank protecting itself with a proxy and Elliptic-curve cypher (sorry for the technical terminology), and so on.

So we each sat at our respective workstations with more pizza and Mountain Dew and got to hacking. One thing was, and had been for a while, on my mind, though.

"Where's Gabe?" I said. "How come he's never around? He's supposed to be the president, right? How come he's not more involved? Or is he just holed up in his oval office upstairs addressing more important issues?"

"He's helping us – I tailored the program for him, as well. He's just not so affable. Kind of an ultra-introvert," David said, "you know?"

"Sure," I said. But I didn't know. Something was a little . . . off about the whole situation. But it wasn't as pressing as hacking my dad was, so I put the thought lower on my mind's priority list.

***

Hours passed, but none of us had found a way into the second tier, not even David, who had programed the damn thing.

"I purposely created a sort of AI that governed itself," David said, "so that I wouldn't be able hack it so easily. I didn't expect it to be like this, though."

"Great job, ya turd," JT said. "So what now?"

"We just keep trying – I know we'll get it," David said.

"No, we won't," JT said. "You created a freakin' HAL 9000 that would murder us before allowing us to hack into the bank."

"Dave, this conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Goodbye," Brett said, quoting 2001: A Space Odyssey in the voice of HAL.

"Don't give me that Kubrick crap," David said. "We'll crack it."

"For real, David," Brett said, "is there anything else we can do? Can you shut it off?"

"I don––"

"What about the guy my dad has been giving the money to?" I said, the thought just occurring to me. "Can we hack him somehow? Maybe he's been depositing the money in his own account, which would be much easier to hack."

"That's not––" David began again.

"––a bad idea," Brett said.

"Except that he might not be depositing the money," JT said. "What then?"

"So we follow him and mug him," JT said. "Me and Brett could take on anyone."

"We can't do that, can we?" I said. "That would just be wrong, not to mention highly illegal. Assault and Battery or something."

"And he's not doing something illegal? And not only something illegal, but something illegal to you," JT said.

"What are you talking about?" I said.

"He's basically stealing your money. Your college tuition," JT said.

"I guess," I said. "Indirectly, but sure."

"Plus, he and your dad have some sort of conspiracy going on," Brett said. "What are they up to? It can't just be your dad helping this guy get his freak on at Rusty's."

"Yeah," David jumped back in, forgetting about beating his program. "Surely your dad wouldn't go through all this trouble just for that. And I'm betting Rusty's plays a major part in all this, too."

"So what, then? We follow this guy into the strip club and see what goes down?" I said.

"I volunteer!" David said after I took his bait.

"David, this isn't like the pixellated women you jerk off to every night," JT said. "This is the real deal. You wouldn't know what to do. You'd probably go into an information overload and bust all over yourself as soon as you stepped through the doors."

"Plus he couldn't pass for 21, even with a fake ID," Brett said.

"Oh, yeah. That, too," JT said. "But wait, isn't it 18 at Rusty's?"

"Either way, I don't think David's a good choice," Brett said.

"So who, then?" David said, anger and disappointment all over his face.

"What about Eli?" Brett said. "This is his money, after all. He should take point."

"Yeah," JT said.

I immediately felt the pressure. The expectation to do something I didn't want to do. I wasn't sure how Kara would take it, but Al would die if she found out. But I didn't just want to not upset her; I would be betraying myself and her. Our relationship. It just wasn't who I was.

But they were looking to me. Would they understand? Would they think I was scared? Scared of what was woven into every mans' DNA – a healthy dose of lust? Why would any man turn down going into a strip joint? Would this be the first of many inevitable mistakes I would make that would eventually cause them to question their decision to let me join their group?

Maybe I could just deflect it, come up with an excuse.

"I'm not 21, either," I said. Easy enough.

"But you look it. Your height helps a lot," JT said. "You could easily pass with a fake."

"Why should we have to go through the trouble?" I said. "You and Brett are at least thirty, right? How old are y'all, by the way?"

"Over 21," JT answered for the both of them. "But we've been to Rusty's plenty of times. You haven't been ever, have you?"

"No," I said. "But, I'm not sure I want to. My old lady would kill me." I hoped my sexist excuse sounded manly enough.

"Yeah, listen to the man," David said. "Wait, old lady? As in singular? Not ladies? Did you make up your mind? Or did you just tottie the hottie and then bag the hag?"

"Say what?" JT said.

"Tottie the hot––"

"It doesn't matter," Brett said. "Eli, you obviously, for whatever reason, don't want to go. Which is fine, I suppose. And David will probably wank tonight just thinking about going, so he should be the one. Let the kid have some fun. We'll just get him a fake ID set up tonight and start scoping out the place tomorrow and be ready when money-man shows up."

"No need on the fake," David said, "I just looked it up and it's only 18."

"Even better," Brett said.

I felt relieved and excited at once. No need to worry about betraying Al or Kara or myself, and I could come closer to finding out what was up with my dad. The plan was simple: hack this guy if he deposits the money, have David stake him out if he doesn't.