HE SAILED THE SEVEN SANDS in a chromium-plated, Buick Sand Yacht, looking for the old Silky Road.
Adjusting the black patch over his right eye, Gurvalik Urdmet switched off his tablet, tucked it in a pocket of his Buccaneering coat and cast his gaze over the line of hills along the horizon, searching. He recognized the particular little dip to one side of the hills locating the place where he’d left his cache.
Restarting the motor of his Buick Sand Yacht, he sailed over to a little valley between the hills intersected by the Selenge River, noticing what looked like a milestone half buried in a drift of sand.
“That’s funny, I’m sure that wasn’t here before,” he murmured . . .