Sergio De La Pava - A Naked Singularity

“You got any lying around Casi?”

“No.”

“Want any?”

“No.”

“My point exactly. This stuff here is golden gold, unalloyed and pure.”

“What do you got?”

“Everything we determined was necessary. Three gifts I bring. First, here’s the key, literal and figurative, fashioned solely out of gold and beautiful in its import.”

“It does look like gold.”

“It better, it’s nothing but. Twenty-eight carats of Au with nothing to dilute.”

“You made a key out of gold?”

“Of course, pray tell of what substance I should’ve made a key that will gain us access to 402 and by extension to the riches of 410?”

“I don’t know but the question seemingly becomes why, if you have the ability to make keys out of pure gold, you are—”

“Gift number two. State of the Art the salesman said without a hint of irony and I couldn’t believe people like that still exist. Two cameras and this here gold-plated remote control/monitor.”

“They’re tiny.”

“They don’t come any smaller. I figure each of us will be responsible for placing one of the cameras on one of the western corners of the adjacent roof then we’ll meet back in the middle, on a direct line to the roof entrance, where we can observe the monitor and decide the best time to make a break for it, probably one at a time.”

“What do you mean by remote control?”

“That’s the beauty of it. Not only can we see what the cameras see but we can maneuver said cameras through the use of these rather dainty joysticks. What say you to that?”

“I say two things: good purchase and practice with the device while I’m in Alabama so you become proficient.”

“Yes. Lastly, I give you the Gold Series Positron 3000. Again a different salesman said something similarly lame that I cannot now recall.”

“These are stun guns?”

“Stun batons, mini-batons really. Eight inches with the whole baton proper, excluding the handle, electrified so you don’t have to worry as much about making precise contact.”

“And this will take down a huge guy?”

“500,000 volts. It’ll definitely take him down but it’s going to take a few seconds it’s not like instantaneous. I figure one of us will immobilize Whale with one of the swords and the other will shock him and take him down.”

“Take him down for how long?”

“If we zap him good then tape his mouth, it’ll be a good ten, fifteen minutes before he can get up and walk down. How do you like the gold plated handles?”

“You sure it’s going to be hundreds right? The money?”

“That’s what he said, why?”

“Because I’m concerned about the weight of the dough. You say you tested hundred dollar bills and fifteen million is about 210 pounds. That’s bad enough in the context of us trying to get out of there with high tails while sneaking by two guys, but what if it’s twenties and weighs a 1000 pounds or fifties and weighs 420?”

“It won’t be. It’s going to be hundreds and weigh between two and three hundred pounds. We’ll bring bags, split it up into manageable amounts and divide the toil. I can see what you’re thinking: here’s another thing that can go wrong. Not really though. Look it’s our money and it pisses me off to no end that these hyenas are currently holding it but if worse comes to worst and it’s a thousand pounds of twenties, which I highly doubt, then we’ll take what we can manage and that’s that.”

“True.”

“And so it is done no? The bulk of the planning and preparation.”

“I suppose.”

“There’s no suppose about it. It’s as done as done gets done. Next Wednesday morning your car will be parked in that spot on 122nd street.”

“Assuming it’s open.”

“No, no assuming. It has to be that spot.”

“I know that spot is ideal but there are others nearly as good.”

“No there’s no ideal and near-ideal. There’s only two choices, perfect or deeply flawed. That spot is perfect for the two reasons we’ve discussed. One, it’s immediately before a driveway so you can pull out quickly and two, it’s almost directly behind 402 so we can leave through the backyard with minimal exposure.”

“Fine but what if it’s taken?”

“You’re just going to have to get there with sufficient advance time to ensure you get it, even if it takes a couple of hours.”

“A couple hours means 1:00 a.m. If a spot is taken at midnight, for example, chances are strong it will still be taken at 3:00 a.m., sleep being generally predictable.”

“So you’ll go the night before and have no problem. Parking around there is actually great. I’ve gone by there five times the last couple of days and that spot’s been vacant about ninety percent of the time. You’ll go, park, go home, then come back later.”

“Fine.”

“To continue, at 2:15 we meet at the 24 hour bodega. We have a Yoohoo.”

“What?”

“Or similar beverage. At 2:30 we go to 402. We use this gold key to get in. On the top floor we change. We get our swords. By the way did you decide which sword you want?”

The night before Dane had, at my request, left the two swords for me to inspect. One was an excellent curved Japanese Katana the other a brilliant medieval Gladius that while maybe slightly wider than I would have liked was considerably easier to use one-handed. Both were beautiful, well-proportioned and sleek, almost swinging themselves the instant you broke your wrists. Light. And savagely sharp. So I stood in front of my mirror in varied feral poses of aggression trying to determine with which I looked cooler and coming to the conclusion that I wouldn’t mind terribly walking around with a sword in my hands at all times.

“I’ll take the Gladius,” I said.

“Is that a beauty or what? Good choice. The batons’ll be there, the cameras, the bags, the rope. We’ll go out the roof of 402. We cross two roofs to 406. That takes us to the 8 foot gap.”

“You mean the 8 foot gap that’s more like 12 feet?”

“And which I nevertheless think we can merely jump? The very same.”

“ Jump , you’re nuts Beamon.”

“Anyway I take the rope I’ve already procured, lasso-throw it across the gap and onto that hydrant-like structure on the roof of 408, attach the gold pulley-wheel slash hook that I’m going to fashion, tie it off on our 406 structure and slide across one by one.”

“Where’s the rope?”

“Home.”

“And it’s thick?”

“It’s a wharf rope, like three inches thick. At the critical moment don’t be surprised to hear it laugh at our weight.”

“Even with the bags appended on the way back?”

“Even with, although I still think we should just throw the bags over.”

“No because they’ll make noise on landing and might awaken nosy guilty bystanders. I think the bags should be like backpacky so we can wear them during our slide back.”

“Okay after we slide over to 408—”

“And you’re sure you’re going to be able to lasso 408 like you say?”

“Positive.”

“Good grief.”

“On 408 we each place a camera where it can observe one of the guys on the 410 roof. Then we watch the monitor for the perfect moment and sneak by them.”

“Sounds so easy.”

“We go down to the second floor. One of us puts a sword to Ballena and the other zaps him. He drops. We tape his mouth. We take his radio. If anyone radios him you answer in barely intelligible Spanish buying us time. We open the bag and divide its contents into ours. We go back up. We check the monitor and sneak by again. We take the cameras. Back to the gap. We use the pulleyed rope again, this time weighted down with the green. I detach the rope from 406, remove the pulley wheel, and throw it over to 408. Then back to 402. We clear everything out of there, go out the door and out the back, through that alley and to the car. Put all the bags in the trunk of the car and we’re off. Escalera and his others discover what has happened but have no clue who did it and can’t call the police. The only evidence that anyone was ever there is the rope on 408. The only person who sees us is The Whale and he never sees our eyes.”