Giving visible evidence of the nervousness he felt, Chuck Norton shifted from leg to leg in a slow motion version of the pee-pee dance. He had been called to the office of the Vice President of Research and Development without warning or explanation. There was no way that was a good thing; the woman had a reputation for not suffering fools lightly. He could not think of any reason for him to be there and that made him worried.
He looked around at the office. The carpet was thicker than the carpet at his home. The solid wood furniture looked expensive. Two very large monitors occupied her desk; one on each side of it. He knew that they were connected to a single very powerful computer that was hidden inside the desk. He knew that only because he had been given the work order to install them. He wished he had a work order to justify this visit.
Melinda looked down at the report she was reading and then back up at Chuck. She frowned trying to make sense of what she had read. Finally, she asked, "Superglue?"
"What?" Chuck asked unaware of what she was talking about.
"You were supposed to replace a computer yesterday," Melinda answered. In light of what Jack had told her about being nice to Mike, she had attempted to upgrade his antiquated computer system. Everyone enjoyed getting a more powerful machine and she was sure that he would appreciate the gesture.
"Oh, that," Chuck said relaxing now that he understood what this meeting was about. He pulled on his ear lobe and then added, "Yeah. We couldn't remove the monitor, the lamp, or the mouse. All three of them were super glued to the desk."
"Why would he do that?" Melinda asked not expecting to get an answer.
"I don't know, ma'am. He glued the desk in place, too."
"His desk?" Melinda asked incredulous that anyone would super glue their desk in place.
"Yes, ma'am," Chuck answered unable to keep from chuckling based on the shocked expression on her face. He had told the story around the break room and everyone else thought it was pretty funny.
"What kind of madman super glues his desk to the floor?" Melinda asked.
Despite knowing that it was a rhetorical question, Chuck answered, "Someone who doesn't want their desk moved."
Melinda asked, "Did you replace his computer?"
"No ma'am," Chuck answered.
"Why not?"
Chuck had not told anyone what he had discovered when he opened the antique case. The inside of the case had been packed with sixty-four of the smallest CPU cards that he had ever seen. There was a lot of computing power packed into one place. He answered, "His computer was better than the one I would have replaced it with."
"That old crate?" Melinda asked wondering if Mike had somehow brainwashed Chuck into that strange mindset of his where he believed that old equipment was better than new equipment.
"All you saw was the outside. I looked inside the case. That old crate contained the most advanced computer hardware I've ever seen. I'm not sure that I even understand how it works," Chuck answered.
"Where did he get it from?" Melinda mused aloud.
"He might have gotten it from Steve Connor," Chuck answered.
"Steve O'Connor?" Melinda asked wanting to make sure that he hadn't dropped an 'O' from the front of the name.
"Steve Connor. He works in the robotics division over in manufacturing," Chuck answered.
"Okay." She jotted the name down on a notepad.
"Now that guy is a real squirrel," Chuck said shaking his head.
"What do you mean?" Melinda asked.
"No one goes in his lab. Rumor has it that he has the entire place booby-trapped. Considering what he can do with a robot, everyone is convinced that entering his lab would be like walking into Terminator Land," Chuck said.
"Why would they think that?" Melinda asked. She knew how rumors like that could spread.
"When you walk up to the door, a robotic voice tells you to leave or face dire consequences up to and including death. The freaky thing is that it addresses you by name," Chuck answered.
"I wonder why they haven't fired him," Melinda said.
Chuck replied, "The guy is real good. Seventy percent of the robots we use in the automated manufacturing facilities run on software that he's written. I've heard that he has over two hundred patents."
"I wonder why I've never heard of him," Melinda said thoughtfully. If he was that good with robots, then he should be working in her autonomous vehicle area. The Bird-4 project was way behind on the guidance software side of things.
"I don't know," Chuck answered.
After having spent three hours reading about Steve Connor, Melinda stopped by Dale Long's office. Sticking her head in the door, she said, "Dale, I just learned that you have a guy in your division that I might need for a year or so."
"Who?" Dale asked looking over at the attractive woman.
"Some guy by the name of Steve Connor," Melinda answered.
"You can't have him," Dale answered automatically.
"Why not?" Melinda asked despite knowing that Dale would be a fool to let him go. Steve was a real producer. She had also read the personnel file which wasn't quite so complimentary of him.
Dale answered, "He's a money making machine for my division. There is no way that I'll let him go."
"I really need him for a black project," Melinda replied. She knew that a project like that could often command considerable leverage in getting people permanently reassigned.
Dale sat back in his chair. He knew that he didn't want to get into a pissing contest with Melinda. Odds were good that he would lose; particularly if a black project was at stake. Those kinds of projects often translated into billions of dollars of revenue over decades. No one would let a petty turf war risk that kind of money.
After thinking about it for a moment, he realized that he didn't have to do anything. One conversation with Steve would convince her to leave him alone. He said, "Go talk to him and see if he'll work for you."
"Thanks," Melinda said leaving as soon as the word was out of her mouth.
Dale chuckled once she was gone. Turning back to his work, he said, "She won't be thanking me when she gets back."
Melinda turned the corner of the brightly lit hallway and came to a stop. The hallway was so brightly lit that it almost hurt the eyes. The walls were a sterile bright white with a single door at the end of the hallway on the left side. The floor was white with a red line drawn across it and the message 'Do not enter' was written above the line. She stared at the line realizing that it was being projected on the floor by a laser. She looked around to spot the laser and noticed that there were a dozen cameras aimed at her. She took two steps to the side. The nearest cameras tracked her movement.
She stepped across the line. The message moved to five feet in front of her and changed to read, 'Turn back now.' She muttered, "Nice theatrics."
Although the hallway was only thirty yards in length, it seemed longer to her. The cameras swiveled to track her progress. Despite expecting it, chills ran down her spine while she walked down the hallway. The cameras made an ominous whir when they turned. She didn't realize just how intimidating it was to be watched by a dozen cameras like that. She almost stumbled when the message on the floor changed to read, 'Death awaits you.'
She reached the door at the end of the hallway and stared at the red lettering that had appeared over it. It read, 'No gurlz aloud.' She said, "You could have spelled it correctly."
The sign changed to read, 'Abandon all hope.' A metallic voice came from a speaker by the door, "You have been warned, Doctor Melinda Davis, Vice President of Research and Development. Leave now or face dire consequences."
Despite being half tempted to run, she reached out to open the door. It was at that moment when she realized the door didn't have a doorknob. She pushed the door, but it didn't open. Glaring at the speaker, she said, "Very funny. Let me in."
"Say the magic word."
Melinda stared at the speaker for a moment unable to believe what she had heard. There was no way that it was a program on the other end. She bit her lip to keep from saying something that she might regret. She forced the word from her mouth, "Please."
The door slid open making a sound straight out of a science fiction show. She mumbled, "Someone has watched too much Space Trek."
The speaker announced, "You are now entering a sexual harassment zone. You have been duly warned."
"Very funny." Rolling her eyes, she entered a small room about the size of a closet and heard the door slide to a close behind her. A sick feeling of being trapped rose when the lights in the room started to fade. She started feeling dizzy when they went out entirely. There was the sound of a door sliding open. She looked into the dimly lit room beyond the door. All of the light in the room came from images projected on every square inch of the walls.
"You are a pretty one now, aren't you? Too bad my cousin has already claimed you for a wife or I'd be asking you to shimmy out of those clothes and spread out on that table over there."
"What? Who?" Melinda asked stunned by the statement. She looked around for the source of the voice before spotting a man who looked a lot like Clint Eastwood seated in a chair.
"Cousin Mike told me that he is going to marry you," Steve answered.
"Mike who?" Melinda asked with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Only one other man in the company dared make those kinds of vulgar statements to her.
"Mike O'Connor," Steve answered.
"He's delusional. We aren't getting married," Melinda said clenching her hands into fists.
Steve grinned and then said, "In that case, why don't you get out of those clothes?"
"In your dreams," Melinda said angrily. All she needed was another jerk on that project.
"You're just like Mike described you," Steve said.
"How was that?" Melinda asked. She was pretty sure that she didn't really want to know the answer.
"He said that you are a fiery red head who has enough freckles under your dress to play a day long game of connect the dots," Steve answered.
Getting described like some kind of sex object was not Melinda's idea of a compliment. She said, "He's an asshole."
Steve laughed at the comment and then said, "That's how his mother used to describe his father. In fact, I think that is her pet name for him. If you keep talking like that you'll be a member of our family before too long."
"I didn't come here to talk about your family," Melinda said. The thought of getting married to Mike O'Connor made her nauseous.
"I know that. You came here to talk about the Bird-4 project. I bet Edwards is struggling with the software for it. He's good, but nowhere near my league," Steve said without a trace of hubris in his voice.
Melinda stared at him wondering if there were any secrets left in this company. Not only did he know about the Bird-4 project, but he knew who was heading the software development side of it. She said, "Yes."
"It has been a while since I've done any programming for autonomous vehicles. It must have been three weeks at the least," Steve said. He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.
"I didn't read anything about that in your file. What have you done?" Melinda asked.
"My lawnmower," Steve answered. He paused for a moment and then said, "Well, actually it is my fleet of lawnmowers. I've got thirty of them taking care of my yard. In case you're wondering, I have a large lawn."
"Lawnmowers?"
Steve smiled at the look of disbelief on her face. He said, "Let's see. I have a fleet of cooperating terrain following devices that are fully autonomous and use GPS for navigation purposes. In a fashion analogous to distinguishing between friend and foe, my little lawnmowers can distinguish between flowers and grass. Oh yeah, they can also refuel themselves while in operation. If I remember the system requirements document correctly, that sounds a lot like your Bird-4 project to me."
"It does," Melinda said. She was going to fire the head of security right after leaving here. Mike and Steve both knew too much about the Bird-4 project.
"I'll join your little project on one condition," Steve said.
"What condition?" Melinda asked not liking the smile he gave her. She was afraid that he was going to ask her to strip for him.
"You go out on a date with Mike," Steve said.
"Never," Melinda said.
Steve turned in his chair while saying, "You have my e-mail address in case you change your mind. You know the way out."
Melinda stared at the back of his head thinking that if looks could kill that Steve would be a dead man at the moment. She turned and headed towards the door. It slid open while she approached. She stepped through and listened to the door slide closed behind her. Once the door was closed, the lights slowly raised. When the lights had reached full intensity the door to the hallway slid open. She stormed out of the little room and into the hallway beyond.
Dale stuck his head through the door of Melinda's office and asked, "How did it go with Steve?"
"That man is impossible," Melinda answered with a low growl. The more time that passed since her meeting with the man the angrier she had gotten. Of course, she wasn't sure who she was angrier with — Steve for his crude remarks or Mike for telling people he was going to marry her.
"What did he do?" Dale asked although he was pretty sure that his imagination could provide the details. There was a young woman in personnel who had ventured into Steve's lab a year ago to question him concerning his sexual harassment training records. After his masterful demonstration that he knew how to harass young women, she had returned to her office in tears. It made him wonder how Melinda had fared. After having dealt with the man he knew that her position in the company would not provide any protection.
"Let's just say that he needs some sexual harassment training," Melinda answered.
"Actually, I wouldn't put it that way," Dale said.
"You're right. He's already an expert in sexual harassment."
"Do you still want him to work for you?" Dale asked with a smile. The only reason he kept Steve on was because he was such a good producer. The fact that the guy was a jerk justified approving the unusual efforts taken to prevent visitors to the lab. He could just imagine all of the harassment lawsuits that would result from letting him interact with more people.
"I don't know," Melinda answered. She was hoping that Edwards would be able to pull a rabbit out of the hat and start making some real progress. Deep down inside, she knew that was unlikely. Steve's assessment of Edwards was right on target; the man was good but not in the league necessary to pull off this programming effort. She frowned and then added, "I might not have a choice."
Dale was about to reply when the telephone rang. Knowing that her secretary wouldn't have put the call through unless it was important enough to interrupt the conversation, Melinda answered it. Her face turned pale while she listened to the man on the other end of the line. After a minute she put down the phone and looked over at Dale.
"What's the matter?"
She answered, "One of my employees was just killed in a massive ambush last night."
"What?" Dale asked.
"A dozen or so gunmen shot up Edwards' car when he was driving home," Melinda said trying to wrap her mind around the news. Although the caller hadn't known all of the details, the evidence had suggested that Edwards had been specifically targeted. The ambush had occurred in the middle of a suburban street one block from his home.
"Why would they do that?" Dale asked. He had no idea who Edwards was, but he didn't like the thought that someone who worked for the company was murdered.
Melinda answered, "I have no idea."
Thinking that it sounded like some sort of gang retribution, Dale asked, "Could he have been involved in drugs?"
"I doubt it. Edwards had a top secret clearance," Melinda answered. It wasn't impossible for him to be involved in any kind of criminal activity; just highly unlikely.
"I hate to ask this, but who is Edwards?" Dale asked.
"He was the programming lead on my black project," Melinda answered. It dawned on her that she was going to have to ask Steve Connor to join the project. His condition on joining the project reverberated in her mind. There was no way that she was going to go on a date with Mike O'Connor.
Dale asked, "Is there any chance the attack was related to your black project?"
"No one kills engineers like that because they are working on a black project," Melinda answered with a frown. She hadn't even entertained that idea. Her computer beeped letting her know that an e-mail arrived. In light of the news she had just received, it seemed like a good idea to check it immediately. She said, "Let me see what this is."
"Sure," Dale answered.
Melinda opened the e-mail and read it carefully. A low growl emerged from deep in her throat while she read it. After reading the last line, she said, "I'm going to kill that asshole."
"What?" Dale asked. He wondered how such an attractive woman could get such an ugly expression on her face.
Reading aloud, Melinda answered, "Dear sweetness."
"Uh oh," Dale said.
"It gets worse." Leaning towards one of the monitors on her desk, she read, "You will find a design that fits your specifications attached to this e-mail. You owe me big time for this. I bet I had to work an extra three or four hours to save your nice well rounded ass on this project."
Terrified that Steve was the author of the e-mail, Dale said, "Please don't fire Steve. I'll talk to him."
Melinda ignored the interruption and read, "As a sign of your undying gratitude and inability to resist my magnificent good looks, I expect you will want take me to a very fancy restaurant for a steak dinner. I accept your kind invitation. May I also express my hope that you'll be dessert?"
"I can't believe it," Dale said. It was going to be nearly impossible to keep Steve from getting fired. "What kind of a madman writes something like that in an e-mail?"
"Your husband to be, Mike O'Connor," Melinda read.
"Confident fellow," Dale said relieved that it wasn't Steve.
"P.S. Clothing optional."
Even under extreme torture, Dale would never admit how difficult it had been to keep from laughing. It took some effort to keep control, but he finally asked, "This Mike O'Connor wouldn't happen to be related to Steve Connor, would he?"
"They are cousins," Melinda answered. Her voice dripped with disgust.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Dale said. It was getting even harder to keep from laughing.
Melinda said, "In light of Edwards' untimely demise, I'm going to have to get Steve on this project."
"You don't sound pleased," Dale said. He couldn't imagine being a woman and having two men like that working for him.
Melinda said, "I can't deal with one of them; I've got no idea how I'm going to deal with both of them."
"I feel sorry for you," Dale said.