"Dim the lights, Mycroft."
"Yes, sir."
The lights dimmed to a quarter of their normal brightness. Mike said, "Keyboard, Mycroft."
"Yes, sir."
An image of a keyboard appeared on the surface of the desk. Mike reached down and started typing. There was a soft click each time a finger stabbed down to the surface of the desk. Melinda watched and asked, "What is that?"
"Ah, that's a little invention by Cousin Steve and Dana. You know Steve. Dana is my little sister. She's an electrical engineer," Mike answered as if that was sufficient to satisfy her curiosity. It wasn't. He said, "Read the words on the wall."
"Why?"
"We have to calibrate Myra to your voice," Mike answered.
"What does that mean?" Melinda asked getting frustrated by the lack of detail in his answers to her questions. She would have stormed out of there by now except Mike was using computing capabilities that boggled her mind and she had to learn more.
"Myra won't understand you unless we get enough data about your voice for her to recognize you," Mike answered. Anticipating her question, "Myra is just a little system that Steve threw together when working on his doctorate."
"Okay," Melinda said thinking that she was going to have to track down Steve to get some answers to her questions. She looked up at the wall. Her eyes scanned the text for half a second. Turning to look at him, she said, "I can't read that."
"Are the words too big?"
"No, you asshole."
"Well, read it," Mike said smiling at her.
"He looked at her with steel grey eyes that sent shivers down her spine. She thrust her bosom forward in anticipation of the caress that his strong hands..." Melinda read aloud. Unable to continue further, she said, "I can't read that romance novel garbage."
"Okay. How about this?"
Melinda looked at the wall and read, "Kneeling at his feet, she reached up and grasped his hot throbbing ... I'm not going to read that pornography either."
"How about this?"
Melinda looked at the display. Shaking her head, she said, "That's a sex manual."
"Yes, it is."
"You are sick. You are a very sick man," Melinda said.
"That's odd. I don't feel like I have a fever," Mike said.
"You're sick in the head. You need a psychiatrist," Melinda said.
"Ah, that would explain the absence of a fever," Mike said. He typed for a moment and then said, "We're not making much progress. If you ever want access to your computer, you have to finish calibrating the system for your voice. Try this one."
Melinda looked at the display and read, "Is there a man alive who can resist a killer blowjob? Even if you believe that you're already an expert fellatist, you may find something new in this article..."
"Hello, kids."
Mike turned around and said, "Hello, Mom."
Afraid to look, Melinda asked, "How long have you been here?"
"I arrived about the time you started reading that rather interesting text on the wall," Liz answered.
Melinda looked over at Mike and said, "Asshole."
"I see that you use my favorite term of endearment for my husband on Mike. You already sound like an O'Connor woman. It must be love," Liz said with a smile.
"I keep hearing that," Melinda said slowly turning to look at the woman who she had respected for most of her life.
Liz said, "You have to keep a tight rein on O'Connor men. They have a tendency to get out of control."
"I'm well aware of that," Melinda said. She just hadn't figured out how to put that knowledge to work.
"We're not that bad," Mike said.
"Yes, you are," his mother replied. "By the way, I parked the jet at the end of the runway. I hope you aren't expecting any company."
"Where's Dad?" Mike asked.
"He's at home working on a proposal for the Army," Liz answered. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "He's never figured out how to delegate work."
"How big is it?"
"If the asshole hasn't lied to me, he's putting in a bid for two hundred million. I've got a team putting together a bid for a hundred and ninety nine million," his mother answered.
"He's going to be pissed if you win the contract," Mike answered.
"He undercut me on that last job," Liz said.
"That's true," Mike said.
Melinda asked, "You bid against each other?"
"We each own a business with people who need jobs," Liz said.
Mike said, "It makes for very interesting discussions over the dinner table. Those two keep maneuvering to find out what the other one is doing."
"You could work together," Melinda said.
"We tried that and it didn't work," Liz said. She shook her head and said, "If that man wasn't the best fuck in the world, I would divorce him and drive him out of business."
"What?" Melinda asked. She was shocked by the coarse language.
"Dad says the same about you," Mike said.
"I know. He's right. I'm damned good in bed," Liz said. She looked over at Melinda and said, "If you want to keep Mike around, you should probably finish reading that article. It sounded interesting."
"Sure," Melinda said unable to come up with something more original to say.
"It is so good to see the two of you together. I've been waiting years for this day," Liz said.
"Huh?" Melinda asked.
Liz walked over to the sofa and took a seat. Looking up at the ceiling, she said, "I remember it just like it was yesterday. I was at your high school talking about careers for women in engineering. You were seated there in a nice little school uniform hanging on every word that I said. You asked some very pointed questions that belied your age."
"You remember me?"
"It isn't everyday that you run into a fifteen year old senior in high school. I knew after taking one look at you that you were the girl for my dear little Mickey."
"Don't call me Mickey."
Ignoring her son's protest, Liz said, "I've followed your career quite closely. You got a nice little research project while an undergraduate from O'Connor Engineering. I really had to twist the asshole's arm to get him to put up that money for you, but you did a killer job on it."
"What?"
"When you graduated first in your class, I knew that it was destiny for the two of you to meet. When I heard that you were going after your doctorate, it just confirmed that I was right. It was really a sad day for me when I couldn't hire you after you applied for a job at Lee Engineering."
"Why didn't you hire me?" Melinda asked.
"You would never have had a chance at a relationship with Mike if you were working for me. If I had introduced you to him in a social context, little Mickey would have run away. I had to get you a job where he was working, so I made a deal with Jack Armstrong to hire you so that the two of you could meet without a mother's interference."
"You got Jack Armstrong to hire me?" Melinda asked. Her entire career was suddenly completely different than she could have ever imagined. She knew that she had a hidden benefactor, but had never guessed that it was Elizabeth Lee.
"That old bastard wouldn't put the two of you on the same project no matter how much I twisted his arm. He knew that if you two met that you'd leave and set up your own business," Liz said.
"What?"
"I despaired of ever having the two of you meet."
"There was no need to despair. I saw her on her first day there," Mike said.
"No you didn't," Melinda said.
"Yes I did. I was in the lunchroom when you came in looking lost and nervous. Your idiot mentor, Charles Goodwin, led you over to a table and left you there while he played cards with his friends. He kind of dumped you there and forgot about you. You had to chase him down when he marched off after lunch without you," Mike said.
"I can't believe it," Melinda said remembering every detail of that horrible first day on the job. She hadn't heard of Mike O'Connor until after she had reached a director level.
"Dr. Goodwin. His name should have been Dr. Badloss," Liz said in total disgust.
"You know him?" Melinda asked.
"He was the project lead on one of our contracts with your company. He is a poster child for mediocrity. What a jerk," Liz said.
Mike said, "I told everyone that you were going to be mine."
"You didn't?" Melinda asked. It had been kind of strange how every single man in the company had avoided her during her first few years there.
"Well, I let Rich Ables do the telling," Mike said.
"Rich Ables? An Ables was the head of security at the time?" Melinda asked trying to remember him. She remembered that one of the security people often stopped by her desk to make sure that no one was bothering her. It wasn't until he was gone that she learned he was the head of security.
"Yes, he was," Mike answered. "He left the company to start WhiteIce Global with Tripp's father."
"Tripp's father runs WhiteIce Global?" Melinda asked. That was the same firm handling security on the Bird-4 project.
"Yes he does."
"Jim works for WhiteIce Global."
"I know. Tripp's father figured that hiring potential suitors would be the best way to find a young man good enough for his daughter. A year ago, Jimbo was one of twenty candidates. Since he's the only one alive and still fighting; he won her hand in marriage," Mike said.
Well aware of how Jim felt about getting married to Tripp, Melinda asked, "Does Jim know that?"
"Of course not. The Ables are smarter than that," Liz said.
Mike asked, "So how did their date go last night?"
"When I stopped by your house, half of the furniture in the front room had been smashed. It was nice of you to offer your house to Tripp," Liz said.
A minor episode that featured destruction of property was a normal phase of the Ables mating ritual. He said, "It must have started off well. How did it end?"
"They were arguing over honeymoon destinations. She was for going to Afghanistan. He was arguing for Hawaii," Liz said.
"I think they'll go to Pakistan. WhiteIce has just gotten a contract for Pakistan and it looks like it will be a very dangerous assignment. Tripp will love it," Mike said.
Liz said, "I don't know about that. They might end up going to Venezuela."
"What's going on there?" Mike asked. Venezuela had been making noise, but that didn't really matter much. It was when they started keeping their insane promises that companies like WhiteIce got called in to make things right.
Although visiting a warzone was not her idea of a honeymoon, Melinda could see that it would appeal to Tripp. She said, "If you ever read the papers, then you would know the president of that country wants to create a single South American nation that will unite the Spanish speaking countries to attack the US."
"That's still nothing," Mike said.
Liz interjected, "The Castro brothers were mysteriously taken ill last night and guess who is suggesting that he step in to help run Cuba?"
"Not the dickhead from Venezuela," Mike said with a groan.
"That's right."
"What can they do about that?" Melinda asked.
Mike answered, "WhiteIce will send in a couple of their iceberg units to take care of the problem. Two or three thousand dead people later, there won't be a problem."
"That's horrible," Melinda said.
Shrugging his shoulders, Mike said, "It could be worse. Our government could wait a couple of years until things really got bad. Then it would require two or three hundred thousand people to die. Our government could wait a little longer and then it would require two or three million people to die."
"How do you know that?"
Liz said, "You attend enough Ables family picnics and you pick up an odd fact here and there."
"Oh, that reminds me. We better get her a gun before she goes to an Ables family picnic," Mike said.
"I didn't think about that."
"Why?" Melinda asked.
Mike answered, "You don't want to get drawn into a little family game they play."
"What is it?"
"Walk the talk," Liz answered.
"What kind of game is that?"
Liz answered, "That's a tough question to answer without going into a bit of history."
"It all started when some crazy gun control group decided to picket one of their family picnics. They managed to ignore the protesters until one of them grabbed Millie because they thought it was wrong for a ten year old to be carrying a gun. The next thing you know, the protesters are lined up at the end of the target range," Mike said.
"The wrong end of the target range," Liz injected.
"Oh no," Melinda said having an idea where this story was headed.
Mike said, "The idea was to see who could shoot closest to the person without actually hitting them. The oldest Ables started first and they worked their way down in age."
"I'm sure that the person getting shot at didn't appreciate it," Melinda said in what she believed had to be an understatement of the actual situation.
"They didn't have to stay there to get shot at. They could leave anytime they wanted," Mike said.
"There was just one little constraint."
"What?"
Mike answered, "They had to put together a convincing argument that the Ables didn't really want to be shooting at them."
"Or they just had to admit that they really wanted a gun and were ready to use it," Liz said.
Knowing Tripp, Melinda was sure that there was nothing that could be said to convince an Ables not to shoot. She said, "I bet it didn't take them long to admit that they wanted a gun."
"You might be surprised. It was when the Ables had worked their way down to the ten year olds that last of the holdouts broke. If they had actually gotten their hands on a gun, I'm pretty sure there would have been wounded Ables walking around," Mike said with a laugh.
"I'm sure," Melinda said thinking that the entire family needed some intensive family counseling. "So I have to bring a gun with me to an Ables family picnic."
"You have to bring it and shoot it," Liz said.
"I guess I could ask Jimbo to teach me how to pull the trigger," Melinda said.
"There's more to it than pulling a trigger. You should probably ask Tripp to teach you how to really shoot a gun," Mike said.
Liz said, "It will give you and her a chance to talk. She'll want to find out all about your date and his proposal."
Mike said, "I haven't proposed yet."
"You haven't?" Liz asked surprised to hear that.
"He hasn't because he knows that I'll never accept," Melinda said. The words didn't ring true coming out of her mouth.
Curious about what was taking him so long, Liz asked, "Why haven't you proposed, yet?"
"I'm still in the process of making her my love slave," Mike answered.
"Like that is going to happen," Melinda said folding her arms across her chest. Noticing the look of approval he gave her she uncrossed her arms.
Liz asked, "How do you plan on doing that?"
Mike answered, "I'm giving Myra to her so that she can work on Manta One with me."
"That will definitely work," Liz said looking over at Melinda.
"It won't work," Melinda said somewhat unnerved by Liz's acceptance of her fate.
Mike said, "She just has to read that passage up there and we'll have Myra calibrated to her voice."
Liz gestured to the wall and said, "Get reading, Melinda. Myra is going to change your life."
"While she's reading, could I get you some coffee, Mom?"
"Sure, that would be nice," Liz said.
"One coffee coming up," Mike said rising from his seat.
Melinda looked at the display and growled. She read, "Is there a man alive who..."
There are software systems and then there are Software Systems. After a lifetime of using software systems, Melinda had just discovered that she knew nothing about Software Systems. Myra was the most amazing piece of hardware and software that she had ever encountered. There was nothing like it on the market. Not only was it voice controlled, but it employed input devices that were straight out of science fiction movies. She had thought that the projection keyboard was something until she started working with the projection graphics tablet. Then she had discovered the projection browser.
Inputs were one thing, but the outputs were something else. Myra talked to her in a nice feminine voice with a slight trace of a British accent to it. There were none of the odd pronunciations of words. Not only was it capable of providing flat displays projected on the wall, but it also provided 3-D projections that appeared just above the surface of the table. Some of the images looked so real that she thought she could reach out and touch them.
The functionality that Myra provided was mind blowing. Never would she think of a computer as office equipment again. Why spend twenty minutes writing a letter when she could request the computer to compose it for her and just modify it? Search engines? They were so blasé compared to the concept maps Myra provided. The CAD/CAM programs she had used in the past were toys compared to what was loaded on Myra. With tools like that, she could do engineering as fast as her mind was able to conceive ideas.
Why should she be chained to a desk or lug around a laptop when her computer was accessible by telephone? Mike had dropped modified cell phone in front of her that allowed Myra to go with her. Built into the cell phone were projectors for the keyboard, graphics table, and heads up display. Who cared if it had to be used in a dark room? She didn't.
Upon finishing another tutorial on how to use Myra she looked up and found Liz seated across the table from her. Liz asked, "Having fun?"
"Yes," Melinda said.
"There is a lot of engineering talent in the O'Connor clan. There is a lot of scientific talent in the Connor clan. It is kind of amazing what happens when the two clans collaborate on a project, isn't it?" Liz said.
"I guess although the word that comes to mind is scary," Melinda answered. She looked around and didn't see Mike. She asked, "Where's Mike?"
"He's upstairs in the machine shop. I told him that he really needed to fix the steps into his flying saucer," Liz said.
Remembering how difficult it had been to enter the flying saucer the previous evening, Melinda said, "That would be nice."
"It was just an excuse to let me have a few minutes alone with you," Liz said.
"Okay," Melinda said thinking it was time for the mother-in-law claws to come out.
"What do you think of Mike?"
"He is the most frustrating man I've ever encountered," Melinda answered.
Liz said, "That's just because he doesn't do what he's told. All O'Connors are like that, but the men have it the worst."
"Why is that?" Melinda asked.
Liz didn't answer right away. She asked, "Do you respect the majority of engineers who work under you?"
"Not really," Melinda answered. She knew that she was a better engineer than most of them. The majority of people working under her viewed it as a job, a few viewed it as a profession, and none viewed it as a passion.
"Why?"
"I'm a better engineer than they are," Melinda answered. It might sound like a boast, but she was convinced that it was fact.
"Mike is a better engineer than you. He is truly gifted. His designs have as much art in them as science," Liz said.
"I know," Melinda said admitting it aloud for the first time. If the jet engine that he had designed wasn't enough to convince her of that, the flying saucer was a further example of just how good he was.
"You don't like being second best," Liz said.
"No, I don't," Melinda said.
Liz said, "Mike's father and I have never established which one of us was the better engineer. We compete on everything and it does tend to harm our relationship."
"Interesting," Melinda said.
"You won't have that problem with Mike. He'll challenge you every day of your life, particularly if you work on the Manta One project with him," Liz said.
"True," Melinda said.
"I wish I was good enough to work on the Manta One, but I'm not," Liz said. She looked at the younger woman and said, "Mike and I think very highly of your skills as an engineer."
"Oh my," Melinda said.