The morning sun slanted across the cluttered living room of 2311 Maple Street. Boxes labeled “Fragile—Science,” “Mom’s China,” and “Meemaw’s Contraband” formed a labyrinth. Sheldon Cooper, armed with a color-coded moving schedule, stood before his family.

“It’s a 2-terabyte encrypted solid-state drive with a graphene heat sink. Give it back.”

“Yes. The one I specifically labeled with a radioactive symbol to deter tampering.”