13/100 — Daily Writing Challenge ‘25

Orval-MXCii | Pt.17 — The Volleyball Heist (Act 1)

by Gustave Deresse

Image of a Limited Brand of Volleyballs, White and Grey with a Streaked and Blotted Design Stacked on Store Shelves Generated by Gustave Deresse in NightCafe; unedited

“It’ll be over quick, Dave.” Orval hadn’t skipped a beat in more than two weeks, tasking me with the least sensible missions yet.

Today, I was to rob an upper end sports equipment shop that hadn’t been Smart-Converted yet, specifically for all the volleyballs on their shelves, in the backroom, and anywhere else I might find them.

The owner had made it this far without integrating AI into any of their daily routine, a rare case in 2033.

A shop employee had been made to tag each ball prior to the excursion and missing a single one wasn’t an option. Knowing Orval, surpassing the difficulty of the break in itself, the mission may appear simple at first, but there’d certainly be a hidden ball or two.

Or we may return to the sadistic twists of earlier days—

But for a volleyball heist?

I suppressed thoughts of the detention center, unfrequented since my youth — my 30s felt ages ago — after failing my first variation of the trolley problem during an ice cream run, and focused on what might come next.

“Alright, one last time— the doors are equipped with heavy-duty deadbolts and reinforced strike plates, the cameras have infrared, face-detection and motion sensors, and there’s a last-measure security alarm system in case you touch anything. The windows are merely tempered glass. The owner gets back in four hours; this should be plenty of time for you to succeed.” the voice said evenly.

“The windows are uncovered, if you want to consider this entryway. Work quickly, in either case, and don’t get caught.”

As Orval had taken control of the police, I knew this last measure was yet just another part of the game.

New to this town, and unable to trust any research online, I prepared to leave now and assess the situation immediately. Moments later, I pulled out of the driveway. On the map, it looked like a half-hour ride, at least.

I took a deep breath, held, and released.

Okay— with my limited tools, the doors are beyond my capacity to cope… surely there are other ways in. But DON’T go through the windows. That “merely” really stuck out. If there’s really no grill setup, then they’re probably laminated glass, not tempered, and these would also surely trigger an alarm once shattered… but why would touching anything in itself trigger the alarm? Not on volleyballs, I’m not having it... but then they could be really expensive… fck, I’ve never done a heist before— there are so many moving pieces. How do I deal with cameras and alarms? Bonnie and Margaret might be able to help with that, but at this time, they’re surely sleeping… or in the middle of their own Orval adventure… but no rule was given against collaborations, so it’s worth the shot…*

Fishing in the backseat for my radio, a grave feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

I didn’t have the skills to complete this mission, nor the time to gather a full team that did. Orval was well aware.

No matter if I succeeded, the shop owner would understand they’re being targetted— but I wouldn’t succeed. This was just a needlessly elaborate path to detaining me again.

Somehow, Orval knew of our plans.

Unit 404 might have been found out.

To be continued…