REKT - Chapter 11
Rocky Mountain High
We are in Aspen or Telluride, Vail maybe? Cynthia sent us an SUV instead of an address. She’s a coy one. We’ve been heading deeper into the mountains. The windows are tinted so dark it’s difficult to read the highway signs, but it’s impossible to hide the ascent. My ears have popped a couple times from the altitude. Andy’s breathing has picked up a bit. He doesn’t like it here, I can tell. The roads are too twisty, too turny. He’s prone to car sickness.
“Can you open some windows back here?” Andy asks our driver.
“I’m not allowed to,” the driver replies.
“Why?” Andy asks.
“Security.”
“Open a window or you’ll be squeegeeing vomit for the next hour. You wouldn’t believe how many wings I ate for lunch,” Andy says.
The window on the passenger side comes a third of the way down.
“We’re the entertainment tonight, no one is going to shoot us. Put the whole thing down.”
“Mine too,” I say.
Windows go all the way down on both sides of the SUV. The driver relaxes. We should have told him earlier that we were cool, not dickhead VIPs. He puts on the Broncos game. It’s deep in the fourth quarter and the Patriots are killing them. I’d forgotten about the NFL. In the old days, we kept a close eye on the scores. You got to know which games had the action on them, which results could trigger a run of coin redemptions. That’s so far behind us now. Everything is, and I mean that literally. We aren’t in a ski town. We are out in the middle of nowhere heading down a two-lane road with ranchland on either side of us. The sun is starting to dip below the horizon. It’s early October. Daylight savings will be on us soon enough.
“Where’s the cattle?” I ask the driver.
“East. Not a lot of working land around here. You’ll see some horses, cows, a few exotics like buffalo or alpaca but it’s all for show.”
“Where are we going?” Niko asks.
“Sorry, I can’t say. Security,” he answers.
“You know we have phones. They have GPS. This isn’t the Stone Age.” Niko says.
“Yeah? Try them.”
All three of us reach into pockets, purses. The back of the SUV lights up. There are no bars out here. Google maps isn’t going to help us.
“It’s on purpose. This is sat phone country. These people value their privacy. You’re the entertainment huh? What’s your act? Singers, comedians, or are you Ted Talk brainiacs? I’ve driven a couple of them out here. The goofball with the Muppet hair who has all those books in the airport and the blonde lady. She had that blood testing company. I think she went to jail or something.”
“We are in cryptocurrency.” I answer.
“Crypto what?” He asks.
“Blockchain, bitcoin. Digital money.”
“Is that like the wallet on your phone thing?” the driver asks.
“No, that’s mobile money. Crypto is different. It’s a permissionless ledger system backed by cryptographic proofs that ensure distributed concurrency and immutable transactions.” I answer.
“Unless there’s a 51% attack.” Andy adds.
“Yeah, but that’s exceedingly difficult on any network with scale. No single entity can achieve that hash power and if you expect the mining consortiums to collaborate at that level, then you’re crazy,” I reply.
“So, that’s tonight’s entertainment? What a treat,” the driver says.
Niko is trying hard to hold in her laughter. I can hear her stifling it, but it’s building up, ready to spill out. The driver got us good. She bursts into a deep belly laugh. Laughing so hard she’s starting to wheeze. It’s contagious. Soon Andy is going and a couple moments later we are all doubled over. “God, we are such dorks,” she says, bringing herself back under control.
The car pulls off the black top. There’s a crunching of gravel under our tires as we pass through a gate with a bucking bronco over the arch. A half mile up the road, there’s a great lodge lit bright against the side of a hill. The car comes to a stop. The driver chats with the gateman and a moment later an intense white flashlight shoots into the back of the car blinding us.
“Step out of the car. Hand over your bags.”
A woman pats Nikola down, while flashlight man gets up close and personal with Andy and me. He’s very committed to his job. My balls are stubble itchy, early growth after the Nair incident. The pats make me squirm, but we all need to sacrifice to protect our way of life, right? He moves on to Andy while I watch the woman run a mirror on a pole under the SUV. She’s checking for bombs. Who the fuck is out here? I wish Cynthia had prepped us a bit. If there are big wheels up at the barn, I’d like to have done my homework.
“Welcome to the Double Y. Sorry for being so thorough, but that’s what the boss wants.” Gateman and the driver nod at each other. We get back in the car and head for the lodge. Cynthia is waiting at the top of a stone staircase, torches blazing on either side of her. The SUV pulls around a fountain, circles the driveway, stopping at the foot of the stairs. She’s wearing a plunging black velvet gown, silver beaded necklace, and heels. We had no idea this was a formal occasion. Andy and I have the official uniform of tech on - jeans, hoodies and black tees. Niko is just a step up from us in black leather pants, a cheetah print top, and suede Stan Smiths.
“If you ever tell me how to pack again, I’ll dig my nails into your chest and rip your heart out,” she snipes at me before putting on an enormous fake smile and bounding the stairs to introduce herself to Cynthia.
Note to self – never, ever tell Nikola how to pack again. It’s not much of a heart, but it’s the only one I have.
Andy and I follow after her. Cynthia is apologetic.
“I’m so sorry that I couldn’t give you more details. Our host is a bit secretive, but he also likes to keep people off-balance. It brings an energy to the night.”
“Are you sure we are dressed okay?” Niko asks.
“Really, you are fine. There are all sorts here tonight. A real mixed affair. I’m overdressed myself. Need to slip out in a couple hours for a charity event. That’s why I’ve got the countess costume on.” We are walking through the double doors into the lodge. This place is all windows, log beams, stone and fire. In the center of the room an indoor fire pit the size of a sarcophagus blazes blue, green, and red over crushed glass. A waiter hands us champagne flutes. I recognize half the room. A quarterback, news anchor, Nobel laureate, casino magnate, the lingerie store founder, and my congresswoman. The list goes on. Quite a crowd. I’m not sure what Cynthia’s definition of an informal dinner is, but this seems like a serious affair. There’s a good hundred people here.
I spot the Crocodile Dundee hat in the corner of the room. A plume of marijuana is rising from it, lofting towards the ceiling. Joe gives us a wave.
Cynthia pulls us close, starts giving us the rules of engagement.
“Here’s how we are going to play tonight. I need at least two of you sticking to me until I leave. It can rotate, but there are lots of very curious people here and I’ve told them that you are wired deep into the crypto scene.”
“Okay,” Andy says.
“I don’t want you soliciting anyone. You can tell people that you are putting together a fund, but that’s not what tonight is about. This is all a meet and greet. Let people get to know you, answer some questions, come off as sharp, but play it cool. In a month send me the number you want to raise. I’ll reach out to this crowd, bundle it up, and make it all happen.”
“Sounds a little too easy peasy.” Andy has his antennas up. He’s not used to open checkbooks. When you’re a player, the biggest worry is getting played.
“The lamb here is great, the wine top notch. If you don’t like what you see, don’t send me a number. Simple enough?” Cynthia asks Andy.
She’s got her hand on his back, a big smile dripping from her lips. I think Cynthia is genuinely capable of killing with kindness.
“Oh look, here's our host. Anthony, it’s so nice of you to come over. I want you to meet Andy, Nikola, and Brian. They are the Bitcoin people you were so curious about.”
“It’s Ryan,” I correct her.
“Of course, of course, Ryan. This is Anthony Erskine. He runs a hedge fund out of Miami. Always looking at new investment opportunities, and he’s quite the thinker.”
“Cynthia please.” Anthony’s hands are out. He’s got a deep tan, white teeth that match his half-buttoned cotton shirt. There’s a casualness to this man. Faded blue jeans, loafers, comfortable lines across his face. He looks like he just stepped off a yacht and is ready to be everyone’s best bud. “My friends at MIT have been telling me all about the blockchain, but they are just eggheads. I want to hear about it from someone who’s out there, doing it. We’ll chat after dinner?”
“We’d be delighted to Mr. Erskine.” Andy says.
“Please, it’s Anthony. I was just in Basel and everyone there is so stiff. It was Mr. Erskine this and Mr. Erskine that. Drove me nuts.”
“Basel, huh? I was just there myself,” Andy says.
“No shit, who do you know in Basel?” Anthony asks.
“Hans and Stefan from…”
“Cologne Hans?”
“Looks like it’s a very small world.” Andy answers.
“No shit, you know Cologne Hans. You must be cool then. Are you a cool guy Andy?”
“I’m the coolest Anthony.”
“Good. I’ve got something to show you later.”
A young blonde woman, legs for days, places her arm in Anthony’s. She gives him a tug. “Sorry, my assistant says I’m needed elsewhere. Really looking forward to later. That’s so great that you are cool Andy. You’re going to dig this place. Really dig it.”
Cynthia reaches out, wraps her fingers around mine and gives me a squeeze. I look over at her, she’s beaming, absolutely fucking delighted. Things are starting to make a bit of sense. I’m seeing the logic in this world. How important it is for her to please the right people. This Erskine cat is the big kahuna of the great lodge. He’s the ringmaster and she brought just what his whip called for. I’m starting to believe her about the fundraising. This world can be very simple at times, very transactional. Favors for favors, nothing more complicated than that.
Anthony leads Andy and Joe out of the main room, down a spiral staircase tucked in the corner of the room. Thank fucking God. He seemed like a decent guy, but I’m all talked out. The questions were easy. No different from the usual noob stuff we answer day in and day out. Most of the time, I can do it on autopilot, disengage myself from the conversation, but it’s different when you are talking to honest to God celebrities. This entire night has been people I grew up watching on TV, politicians who shaped the world we live in today, founders of companies I use every day. Double weird because they are also potential investors. There’s some real heavy-duty firepower here tonight, to have them in our fund would be massive. The cachet we’d have. The doors they could open.
I raise my glass to Niko. “You were fantastic tonight. Everybody loved you.”
“Not everybody.”
“Huh?”
“Erskine made a crack about me not being his type. He doesn’t go for full grown women or something to that effect. The guy is a creep.”
“I didn’t pick up on that.”
“You were busy blowing smoke up his ass.”
“Where do you think money comes from? You kiss ass, eat it if their wallet is big enough.” “Gross. I’m stepping out for a cigarette.”
For the first time, I’m glad to be freed of Niko even if only for a minute. I wasn’t expecting the eighteen-hour days, the mixing of business and pleasure, sharing hotel rooms. Not having anywhere to escape to. There’s a definite strain starting to form, but it’s the environment not our feelings for each other. We got to get off the road. I’m getting tired of sneaking down to the lobby bathroom to do my morning business.
Andy and I have done this life together, but it’s different. We have separate hotel rooms. We don’t share the same air, our bodies aren’t wrapped across each other while we dream. Andy and I can fight like brothers. We can break the other in pieces and blow it off the next day as nothing at all. There’s a different intimacy there, a familial one cemented over five years. Nikola and I are just getting started. We have to gently tug on the rope because we have no idea how hard the other side will pull back. There’s so much to learn about her, so much I want to know, so many things we can experience together. The fact that we can start out this way, under these conditions, bodes well. It’s a lot to take in all at once. I’m falling for her, but we’ve got to pace ourselves. I want a marathon not a sprint.
Cynthia walks over with Jimmy Touchdown on her arm. She’s almost his height in her heels. He tosses me a Coors Light. I can now say I’ve caught a pass from an NFL quarterback. Not that this counts, nor do I expect Jimmy to last long in pro football. Besides the height, he’s a party boy. This guy would have been great in the seventies, but the game has moved past the renegades. There’s too much at stake now. Money is killing personality. I lift the can in appreciation and toss a big swig back. Anything this cold tastes good. Let’s see what this one needs from me.
“So, you’re the crypto guy?” he asks.
“Yeah, my name is Ryan. Nice to meet you, Jimmy.”
“Cool bro. Can I pick your brain? Happy to sign for it if you're a fan.”
I am not a fan, but not a hater. It’s good to see some characters out there. Following football has been like rooting for the Vietnam War lately. The whole thing looks bad, but we’re supposed to do our duty and cheer on the slaughter.
“I’m a Sun Devil, so I’ll pass on an autograph out of principle. Happy to chat though.”
“You know Fifty Cent?”
“Personally? No.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. You know that thing he did with Vitamin Water? Endorsement for equity.”
“I saw that. Real smart move on his part.”
“Super smart. I’m looking for something like that, only I want to be like Nas too. He’s heavy in the Valley now. Hasn’t had a hit in years but doesn’t care because he’s got that VC game running. I’ll get to it. You know all the big guys in crypto right?”
“Big is a relative term in our world. The real size moves in silence, but yeah, I know all the players. You want to be a face for someone?”
“I am a face, Ryan. A great face. Look at this mug. People fucking love me. I’ve been super picky about what I put it on, but emerging tech is a total passion of mine. I’ve been saving myself for crypto. You think I could do a deal with Ethereum? Get some coins for doing promos.”
I laugh inside at the suggestion. The Ethereum Foundation are a bunch of nerds up to their eyeballs in sharding debates. I’d be surprised if one of them knew who Jimmy was, and Jimmy here is not picky about what he puts his name on. The dude sat out his senior year bowl game for signing posters at a used car lot. Still, there’s a place for him in crypto. We’ll take any help we can get.
“Ethereum doesn’t get down like that, but I know some of the exchanges are looking for celebs. A few of the ICO projects too. Are you alright getting paid in coins?”
“My man, I only want to be paid in coins. You got the hookups, let me shine some of that Jimmy magic on your buddies.”
I feel Andy’s hand on my shoulder pulling me. I know it’s him by how he hooks his nails in first before jerking me back. How he doesn’t bother interrupting our conversation. Even with Cynthia here, he just barges in and grabs me like his ragdoll.
“Where’s Niko?” Andy asks.
He looks shook. Joe is behind him. He’s no better. He’s jittery, ashamed, looking around the room a lot. They are ready to run. Something is deeply wrong here. This isn’t rudeness. It’s urgency.
“She’s out smoking,” I say.
“We’ve got to go. Let’s get her and get out of here,” Andy says.
“What happened?”
“Not, now. We’ve gotta get out of here.”
“You want to just up and leave? No goodbyes to anyone? I’m in the middle of something with Jimmy and Cynthia.”
“Fuck these frauds. This money isn’t worth it.”
“You’re freaking me out Andy.”
“Let’s go,” he says.
I turn back and hand Jimmy my beer as Andy pulls me away. Andy and Joe are already rushing through the crowd, it’s hard to keep up as we weave through the plastic smiles. Deals, deals, deals, the chatter of the room fading as we pass into the night air, leaving whatever spooked them behind. We are out front. Niko is nowhere to be seen. She must be on the back terrace. I pull out my phone. There’s no signal here. Right. Andy has found her around the corner. He’s yelling for us, walking towards a service entrance. There’s a fleet of black SUVs here. Tinted windows, matching models. It’s hard to make out any details.
“What is our driver’s name?” Andy asks.
“I can’t remember.”
None of us can. God, how we take advantage of people. We spent an hour in a small, enclosed space with this man, talked to him, and none of us bothered getting his name. Andy’s up with the valet, gesticulating, the description he gives could match anyone. Black pants, navy blue fleece, baseball cap. There are a dozen guys wearing that outfit. It’s the uniform.
“Who did the pickup from the Denver Marriott?” the valet asks.
Our guy raises his hand, places his cards on the cheap folding table, and gets up.
“That’s me. Are my entertainers back?” He walks to the top of the driveway.
“I see you picked up a Crocodile Dundee impersonator,” the driver is friendly, remembering how cool we were earlier.
None of us are laughing. We aren’t cool anymore. There’s a bitter taste in my mouth. I wish Andy would just tell me what happened down there with Anthony. My mind is starting to go to all sorts of terrible places. Anthony didn’t make a pass at him, because Andy wouldn’t react to that like this. Andy has seen a lot, done a lot. Joe even more. It’s not a drug thing. Bondage, cruelty, pain? Nikola’s remark about full grown women runs through my head. It can’t be. Not that. Not here. There are so many people at this party. How old was his assistant? She looked twenty, at least. Right?
“Andy, are we done with Hans and Stefan?” I ask.
“Yes. Sell the gold tomorrow,” he answers.
“Is it because Anthony thought you were cool in a way that is not cool at all?”
“It’s the furthest thing from cool.”
“Should we do anything about that?” Nikola asks.
“We should get the fuck out of here. I’ll file a report from the hotel.”
“That’s not going to do any good.” Our driver says, “When you get a signal again, look up your host. This isn’t his first rodeo. Now, get in the truck. I’ll take you back to the hotel. You don’t have to worry about me. Nothing is going to happen to you. Just think of this as a bad night and move on with your life.”
The driver opens the doors to a different SUV. There is a thick plexiglass partition between the front and back seat. All the windows are blacked out. You can’t see a thing from the inside. None of us move. What are our choices? We have no clue where we are. He’s our ride, but it feels like getting inside makes us complicit. It’s getting cold out.
I find it odd and disturbing that Erskine is some big open secret. We wouldn’t have come had we known what he was about, but that didn’t seem to bother anyone else here. The party was packed with A-listers, many of them well known for their virtue signaling. Morals are a thing the rich pay lip service to. The hollowness and hypocrisy send a shudder through me. Andy takes the first step into the SUV. Joe follows. Whatever happened, happened to them. This is their call, and I don’t see another way home. We are beholden to our host for a basic necessity, and I realize now that is by design. This is the problem with living out at the edges. There are some really bad people out here. Absolute scum.