In the Night, Chapter 3
Villa Peruggia sounded far more elegant than it truly was. The remnant of an mid-twentieth century missile silo, Rand’s home was little more than a bombed out cylinder with work lights hanging throughout most of it. He occupied a single level of the base, leaving the other ten circular floors mostly untouched. Rand had done a certain amount of restorative work to the site to ensure it lasted, including heavily reinforcing and sealing the concrete slab protecting the silo from the surface. Glass panes ringed almost every floor, with only a few remaining open for Rand to access the emptied tube where a missile would normally rest. A single hallway ran from the silo proper to what had been the barracks and office, now intersected by a dormant rapid transit line to another WELL.
Rand hadn’t arrived home yet. He was several miles away, just entering the transit tunnel, but he could see every angle of every stark white room through the security feed wirelessly connected to his vehicle and suit. Not that his own surveillance was necessary at all. AIVA, Rand’s custom-built Artificial Intelligence Virtual Assistant, monitored every acoustic, pressure, and temperature sensor placed throughout every floor, off-shoot tunnel and entry tunnel. AIVA also maintained all security monitors.
“Rand, has the precision with which I maintain your estate made you upset?”
Rand grinned at AIVA’s sarcasm. He had been nervous hooking a true AI up to his home, but she had grew on him quickly; her voice was soothing in a way he had at first felt unsettled by, but not the soft lilting voice was calming. She did have a point too, there was no way he could maintain his home security and cover his own back in the field without her.
“I’m just a nervous person, AIVA. You know that.”
“Very well. I can increase speed to Peruggia if you wish; it would be best to unroll the Brenvin as soon as possible. The Purveyor has also pinged you asking for a mission status. Should I inform him that the package has been obtained?”
“If you wouldn’t mind stepping on it that would be great. I’m famished.”
“And the Purveyor?”
“Send him the usual.”
“Very well.”
Rand felt the vehicle accelerate. Luxury was something he had never been truly acclimated to. He had gone from a measly pickpocket in the wealthy Apex district to a renowned art thief - seemingly overnight. Rand had proven himself deft of hand and clever picking his marks, making a small fortune handily. The only bad mark he had every picked was the Purveyor, but that relationship had paid exponentially. The Purveyor was Rand’s contact and fence. If Rand needed a job, the Purveyor would provide; if the Purveyor needed the best, Rand would work.
It would be a while until the Purveyor received Rand’s mission, so he leaned back as the vehicle sped towards the Villa. AIVA slowly faded in Rand’s preferred post-operation music and the soft synthetic leather embraced Rand. He turned off the monitors and external displays with a simple voice command and let the rising strings and tempered synth lull him into a light nap.
Rand awoke twenty minutes later, arriving at Villa Peruggia. AIVA had parked the vehicle within the lower level rotary garage and gently pulsed Rand’s suit with increasing vibrations to wake him. The door opened as he roused and he stepped out, painting in hand. He walked directly to his workshop and swept aside small gadgets and tools to unroll the Brenvin piece - like AIVA said, the less time it spent rolled up the better.
Then began the tedious process of removing each small piece of technology from his suit. Each part was cataloged and processed by AIVA, but Rand still had to take them off. The laser hexagons, carbon rope, harness and motor, then the modular pieces of his suit: gloves, then boots and so on. Rand placed them all a bed of glass where the sensors would recognize the piece and ceiling mounted robotic hands would move each piece, folding if necessary. They were then cataloged in a rack mounted on two of the three walls. It was a bit of hubris Rand enjoyed in an otherwise minimalistic and stark home. Each of the three suits of thin fabric laced with technology were his modern day knight’s armor. It was romantic, but it suited him just fine. Barefoot, he left the workshop in AIVA’s care and moved to the kitchen grabbing a quick meal of bread and soup that AIVA had prepared.
Rand dipped his spoon into the soup, but was interrupted by the lilting voice of AIVA. “You have a call, sir, from the Purveyor.”
“Put him on screen; I wasn’t eating anyway.”
A semi-transparent image of a white-haired man, gaunt from decades of cigars and scotch, appeared on the glass wall looking into the rotunda where a missile had once rested. The Purveyor was well-dressed and clearly not amused.
“Truly, Mr. Clarke. How long must we play these silly games? A simple ‘received’ or ‘I have the package’ would suffice. There’s no need for such extravagance,” the Purveyor stepped aside to let the camera focus on the fruit and flower basket behind him in the shape of a giant heart. Several large heart shaped mylar balloons bounced on the Purveyor’s ceiling.