The vessel held another willing victim for her father’s childish and vindictive game, another desperate soul. There had been six so far, some cautious, some arrogant, all of them trying to solve the puzzle of the Minotaur. All of them had failed, and all of them had been publicly humiliated and financially ruined by both their folly and her father’s power. Would the seventh be any different? The yacht had moored, and Ariana leaned closer to see who would disembark. First Aries, one of her father’s many henchmen. And then... He looked different. He didn’t, she acknowledged, look like a computer geek. Her father had enticed some of the brightest, youngest minds in the IT world to attempt to disarm the Minotaur virus. Most of them had looked anemic and underfed, sporting goofy, graphic tee-shirts and glasses. This man didn’t look like that at all. She couldn’t see him all that well from this distance, but she still got a sense of innate power and authority.
