Chapter 1. The golden cage
The air in the mansion was always exactly 22°C. It never rained inside the mansion. The sun never burned your skin because the glass was tinted with real gold to keep the glare away. For eighteen-year-old Jack, this wasn’t just a home; it was a kingdom where he was the only citizen who mattered.
Jack sat in his "Gaming Command Center," a room that cost more than most people’s entire houses. He was surrounded by three curved monitors, a chair made of Italian leather, and a refrigerator stocked with every soda imaginable. On the screen, a digital character was running through a jungle, fighting off tigers with a sword. Jack pressed a button, and the tiger died instantly.
"Too easy," Jack muttered, leaning back.He didn't realize that in just one week, he would be facing a real jungle where there were no "restart" buttons.A soft chime echoed through the room. It was the intercom. "Master Jack," the voice of Alfred the butler said smoothly. "Your father requested your presence in the Great Library. He says it is time to discuss your future."Jack groaned. "Tell him I’m in the middle of a raid, Alfred.""He was quite insistent, sir. He mentioned something about a gift."The word gift got Jack’s attention. He stood up, his legs feeling a bit stiff. He rarely walked more than a hundred steps a day. Why walk when the mansionhad an elevator? He made his way through the halls, passing paintings that were hundreds of years old and statues made of pure marble. He didn't look at any of them. To him, luxury was boring. It was all he had ever known.
He pushed open the heavy double doors of the library. His father, a man whose face was always set in a serious line, stood by a globe of the world.
"Jack," his father said without looking up. "Look at this globe. What do you see?"
"A lot of blue," Jack said, shrugging.
"That blue is the Pacific Ocean. It is vast, dangerous, and beautiful. And you, my son, have never touched it. You have spent eighteen years inside these walls. You know how to command a digital army, but you don't know how to start a lawnmower. You are soft, Jack. And the world is hard."
Jack felt a spark of anger. "I’m not soft. I’m comfortable. There’s a difference."
"Is there?" His father turned around. "I have bought you a gift. The Sovereign of the Seas. It is a 150-foot personal yacht, custom-built for you. It has a cinema, a gym, and a staff of twenty to look after your every whim. But there is a catch."
Jack narrowed his eyes. "What catch?"
"You are going to sail it from San Francisco to New Zealand. Alone. Well, not truly alone—the staff will be there—but without me. Without your mother. You need to see what the horizon looks like when there isn't a wall in the way. You leave on Monday."
"Monday? That’s three days from now!" Jack shouted. "What about my friends online? What about my life here?"
"Your life here is a cage, Jack. Even if it is a golden one. You need to breathe salt air. You need to feel the ship move under your feet."For the next three days, the mansion was a whirlwind of activity. Servants packed trunks full of silk shirts, designer shoes, and three different laptops. They packed crates of Japanese Wagyu beef and sparkling water from the French Alps. Jack didn't pack a single tool. He didn't pack a compass. He didn't even pack a jacket that could handle a storm. Why would he? He was a billionaire's son. Problems were things you paid other people to solve.
On Monday morning, a black limousine pulled up to the pier. The Sovereign of the Seas was waiting. It was a masterpiece of engineering, glowing white under the California sun. A row of staff members stood on the deck, their uniforms pressed and white.
"Welcome aboard, Mr. Jack," said the captain, a man with a gray beard and eyes that looked like they had seen a thousand storms. "I am Captain Miller. We have a clear forecast for the next forty-eight hours. We should have a smooth start."
Jack stepped onto the deck. The wood was polished teak, so shiny he could see his own bored expression in it. He didn't look at the ocean. He didn't look at the seagulls circling above. He looked at his phone.
"Where is the Wi-Fi password?" Jack asked.
Captain Miller sighed. "It’s on the desk in your stateroom, sir. But I suggest you watch the departure. It’s quite a sight."
"I've seen it on YouTube," Jack said, already walking toward the stairs.
As the engines roared to life, a deep vibration shook the ship. The yacht began to pull away from the dock, moving slowly out of the harbor and toward the open sea. Jack sat in his cabin, which was larger than most apartments. He had his headphones on, blocking out the sound of the waves.
He felt the ship tilt slightly as it hit the first swells of the deep ocean. It was a strange sensation—the ground moving beneath him. For the first time in his life, Jack felt a tiny shiver of nervousness. In the mansion, the floor was always solid. Here, the only thing between him and the bottom of the ocean was a fewinches of steel and wood.
He looked out the porthole. The land was disappearing. The giant skyscrapers of the city were becoming tiny toys, and then they were gone. There was nothing but blue.
"Seven days," Jack whispered to himself. "Seven days of this, and then I can go back to my room."
He had no idea that he wouldn't see his room again for two years. He had no idea that the "soft" boy who boarded the ship was about to die, and a survivor was about to be born.
Outside, the wind began to pick up. The sky, which had been a perfect, friendly blue, was starting to turn a bruised shade of purple. The adventure had begun.
