Blake Schwendiman's Blog and Blook

Chapter 11

Wednesday, 09 March 2022 – 10:30 p.m. SAST

Daniel had hoped to arrive at the DF Malan Airport early enough to catch a connection to Durban, but there were no flights leaving until morning. With virtually unlimited funds at his disposal, he considered chartering a personal flight, but decided that he had plenty of time. He loathed charter jets. Instead he hired a limousine and sought out the night life in Cape Town.

He enjoyed his current life and lifestyle. He had grown up poor in Pietermaritzburg, a medium-sized city north of Durban. His mother died of multiple sclerosis just after the end of apartheid in the early 1990s. He stayed with his father until he was sixteen years old. His father had grown weary of being alone and married their Zulu housemaid. Though apartheid as a form of government was dead, apartheid as a cultural influence was not and Daniel was unable to cope with his father’s marriage to a kaffir.

He lived in various places in the Durban after leaving home. He quickly found that he had a natural talent as a software developer and found a legitimate job by his seventeenth birthday. He also found that he could make a great deal of money outside of his job developing working on less ethical projects.

In 2002, Daniel found himself facing a potential prison term for creating a software virus that provided back-door access to several Asian financial institutions. He was able to avoid prison time due to the lack of legal precedent for his activities and because of his age. However, the news of his skill spread quickly and Daniel found himself inundated with job offers from around the world. He eventually decided to go to work at a startup firm in the United States called Q-Morrow technologies.

Daniel glanced around the plush limousine and took a sip from his beer. It was still incredible to him that in less than two decades he had morphed from the homeless boy in Durban into one of the wealthiest people in the world. He maintained a detached lifestyle free from anything or anyone that may encumber his solitude. His relationships were short lived. He owned almost nothing. He rented an apartment in Bangalore, one in New Delhi and one in New York City. He lived free from responsibility and attachment.

The limousine stopped. Daniel paid the driver, said nothing, and walked into the nightclub. Heads turned. His black-light sensitive tattoos, his facial tattoo art and his piercings spoke volumes on his behalf. Only the elite could afford the body art he flaunted. Within moments he was surrounded by a group of women. He sat in centrally-located booth and ordered drinks. For the next four hours, Daniel lavished himself in pleasures.