Jon Graeme was ready for his confrontation with George Ludwig. It required no effort to get pumped up. All he had to do was think about Ludwig behind the wheel of the car, bearing down on Harry. He had wondered many times what would have happened if he had not stopped before crossing with Harry. He might not have seen the car and Ludwig might have succeeded in running them both down.
Much to his chagrin, he found out that George Ludwig was out sick for the day. He felt badly let down as he read the Tuesday morning attendance listing. While he did not usually enjoy confrontations, this would be an exception. He was actually looking forward to it. He swore to himself that the creep had only bought himself a little time.
Tuesday was the last quiet work day that Jon Graeme would have for many weeks to come. During the morning he puttered about, trying to get his office and PC set up the way he wanted them. Every time he glanced out the window and saw the beautiful forest of pines in the distance, he was overwhelmed with guilt. What he had set in motion had been a disaster for Lettie. In an instant she had lost what she had struggled five years to achieve. The irony of it was that he wasn’t even doing her job. Her principle duties were being taken over by her two assistants.
Jon had been assigned the unenviable task of acting as documentarian, go-between, and chief whipping boy for Harry Sale. He had already known that the programmers, technical writers, and product managers in the Advanced Programming Division had an abject fear of Harry Sale. His sarcasm, his short temper, and his commanding aptitude for puncturing egos had secured his reputation as a person to avoid at all costs. Seeing an opportunity, the management had decided that Jon would make the perfect buffer between Harry and the rest of the staff.
Later in the day Ted Blume stopped by his office. After a few amiable remarks he got down to the real reason for his visit.
“There’s a rumor that the military will be descending on us tomorrow, Jon. Maybe even a three-star general, according to scuttlebutt, and also some of the ranking IT people at the Pentagon.” He paused a moment to see if Jon had a response.
Jon said nothing.
“We’re going to have to look ready, even if we barely have our feet on the ground. Do you know anything about this new operating system that Harry has cooked up?”
“Practically nothing,” said Jon. “Harry tells me it utilizes the quantum mechanical effects within the Josephson junctions in Big Moe. To be honest, I don’t even know what that means.”
“It sounds like a real bear to document. I don’t envy you your job.”
Blume’s words gave Jon a sinking feeling.
“At the very least, we will need a document describing the installation of the system. Having worked with these tin-button soldier types before, I just know that will be the first thing they ask for.”
Jon’s sinking feeling grew more pronounced. He knew how little patience Harry had for explanations that involved the use of the English language. His old job was suddenly starting to look pretty good to him. Maybe Lettie was really the lucky one after all.
“I know this is a hell of an assignment for you to start off with, but when we meet with the Pentagon personnel we need to project a can-do attitude.”
“I understand,” said Jon with more confidence than he felt. “I’ll do my best.”
“Good man! I want you to stop by Harry’s office and get what you can out of him in the areas I mentioned so that tomorrow we can create the impression we know what the hell we’re doing.”
Jon postponed his visit to Harry’s office as long as possible. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that his new job assignment would undermine his friendship with Harry. Harry always spoke of his associates as adversaries rather than as colleagues. The one exception had been Lettie. She had had the strength to deal with his difficult personality and had won him over with her unfailing efforts on his behalf.
He also knew that Harry was working with feverish desperation on a project that had nothing to do with HTPS Industries. For someone as single-minded and dedicated as Harry, any interruption would be considered an invasion of his personal space.
If only he could discuss some of his concerns with Lettie. She had more experience than anyone when it came to handling Harry Sale. But Lettie had answered none of his emails or phone calls. He had given up even trying to contact her. If she wanted to get back in touch with him, the ball was in her court.
Near quitting time, Jon walked slowly toward Harry’s office and knocked lightly on the door. No answer. He knocked harder and more persistently. Still no answer.
Jon opened the door and looked in. Harry was in his habitual mode, staring intently at a screen dense with code.
“Harry, have you got a minute?”
Harry turned from the screen, an unreadable expression on his face. “You’ve already used up fifteen seconds,” said Harry.
“I’ve got a couple of questions about your new operating system.”
Harry looked at him sharply, cocking his head to one side. “Have you got a couple of questions or does Ted Blume?”
Jon was surprised by Harry’s acuity. “Well, I guess they are really questions from Ted.”
“You guess?” Harry replied sarcastically. He turned his attention back to the screen and inserted a new condition in a nested series of “if” statements.
Jon waited patiently for Harry to finish up. Unfortunately Harry seemed to have forgotten he was there. After he inserted the new condition, he paged-up in the code and read through all the conditions again, muttering all the while.
Jon felt uneasy but plunged ahead. “I’ve been asked to document your new operating system, Harry.”
Harry ignored him and opened the next line to insert a new statement.
“Some people are coming in the next day or so and we need to have something written up for them.”
Harry turned abruptly away from the screen. “What people?”
Spooked by the ominous tone in his voice, Jon could not reply immediately.
Harry raised his hands with the palms in and wiggled his fingers, coaxing Jon to hurry up with it.
“From the Pentagon,” said Jon.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Harry shouted. He flung his hands off his desk so violently that he succeeded in knocking a sheaf of notes to the floor. “Who the hell asked them to come?”
Harry had turned about in his chair and was glaring at him.
“I don’t know who asked them,” said Jon defensively. “And don’t shoot me. I’m just the messenger.”
Harry sat back in his chair and shook his head from side to side. His expression softened.
“Sorry, Jon. You just don’t know how it is. You don’t know what they’re like. I’ve had to deal with these Pentagon creeps before. Take my word for it; they are an incredible bunch of assholes! I just hope a guy named Meyers is not among them. Do you know if Meyers is going to be coming?”
“I have no idea,” Jon said.
“I sure as hell hope he isn’t. If you look up ‘asshole’ in the dictionary, this guy’s picture is next to it.” Harry looked genuinely distressed. His hands were raised and he was pulling at the tangled hair at the sides of his head. “Jon,” he implored, “You’ve got to keep these Pentagon sleazebags away from me.”
This was just the opening Jon had been waiting for. “Well, Harry, if we could give them some sort of document on how your new Operating System works, we might be able to keep them off your back.”
“You really think that would work?” Harry asked.
“It would be a start, anyway.”
“Well, I guess I’m off the hook then. I’ve already put together a document that gives a fairly complete picture of how it works.”
“Great!” said Jon, impressed by Harry’s forethought. “And we’ll also need an installation document.”
“What do you mean installation document?” Harry snapped.
Jon tried to push aside his irritation. He was getting really tired of Harry’s unrelenting attack mode.
“Just a list of instructions on how to install it. You know, a standard ‘How-To’ installation document.”
Harry looked at Jon as if he was some kind of slope-headed creature that had just climbed down from a tree.
“What the hell are you talking about? There is no fucking standard. The whole thing is customized for Big Moe.”
“But you installed it on those PCs,” Jon said.
“That was a scaled-back version and as it turned out, it wouldn’t work right anyway. The full-blown operating system is completely customized for Big Moe. I was able to do it quickly because I know Big Moe’s architecture inside out. If I came in cold on some other system, it would probably take me six months. There’s no standard install. It’s all defined by exceedingly narrow tolerances.”
Harry continued on with his explanation, basically saying the same thing over and over, each time in simpler terms.
Jon tried to keep his face expressionless as Harry talked down to him. Harry was explaining things in the way one might talk to a twelve-year-old, a rather slow one at that. Jon had hoped to ask Harry a few more questions about the quantum computer, but this was obviously the wrong time to try.
“I guess I got what I needed,” Jon said, although he remained unconvinced that he’d gotten any real information at all.
“Good!” said Harry sarcastically and then turned back to the computer.
As he walked back to his office, Jon felt like he had been mugged in a back alley. He felt no more than an inch high. For the first time he had some insight into what others said about Harry. As he looked ahead at what he would be up against in the coming months, he felt nothing but dread.
On the way home from work Jon stopped at Miller’s and had a beer. He sipped it slowly and furtively while he kept an eye out for Lettie. No sign of her. In an odd sort of way he was almost happy she wasn’t there. He was hard-pressed to think of anything he could say that would make the situation any better.
Jon nursed his beer for about half an hour, trying to look casual as he glanced about the place. When he finally finished the glass, the bartender asked him if he wanted another. Jon declined the offer and left Miller’s. He walked slowly, like an old man.
Maybe I should just get another job, he thought as he drove home. The hell with Lettie and Harry and HTPS Industries! But he knew he would never do it. He just couldn’t get Lettie out of his mind. Somehow he had to find a way to get things back to the way they were.
The evening was dull and moved slowly. He tried to listen to the news on PBS, but could not stay focused. He could not help but wonder what the next few days would bring. Would the Pentagon people be as bad as Harry indicated? All in all, it looked like he would be treading on quicksand for some time to come.
At eight o’clock the phone rang, startling Jon to the point that he literally leapt out of his chair.
“Hello,” he said. “This is Jon Graeme.”
“Hi, Jon. It’s Lettie.”
Jon stopped breathing. His mind raced, trying to come up with something to say. But he could think of nothing.
“I called to apologize, Jon. What I said to you was way out of line. I know you weren’t after my job. I was just … upset.”
“I know, Lettie—”
“No,” she said. “Don’t interrupt. Let me finish.” There was a brief pause and Jon could hear her taking a deep breath. “After I thought it through I realized it was all on HTPS Industries. I’ve been jerked around by them before. I understand now that you weren’t after my job or anything like that. I’m really sorry for what I said and I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“Of course,” said Jon. “But Lettie—”
“Jon, let me finish. As I said, I’ve been jerked around by those guys before. But what happened this time has made me rethink my whole life. I used to imagine I knew where I was headed. I wanted a career. I wanted success. I wanted kudos. But I’m starting to think none of that matters.”
Her voice was trembling. Jon could imagine tears running down her face.
“Lettie, when can I see you?”
She choked back a sob. “You don’t understand, Jon. You see, you’re still part of the problem. I don’t know where I’m at with men anymore. I used to think I loved Harry. And then he changed and then I changed and things just weren’t the same. And then I thought … well, never mind that.”
“Lettie, can we go out to dinner sometime soon? Not Miller’s, but a nice place.”
“You just don’t get it!” Lettie almost shouted. “I need space, Jon. I need to work out where I’m at. I really don’t think we should see each other for a while.”
There was a long pause. Jon was devastated by her request, fearful that it meant the end of things for them. But he had to stay positive.
“I think I understand, Lettie. But I want you to know this: when you’re ready, I’ll still be there for you.”
“You’re the best, Jon. You really are.”
There was another pause.
“Take care,” Lettie said and hung up the phone.
Jon stood in the kitchen for a full minute with the phone in his hand. His mind was racing and he tried to recall word for word what Lettie had just told him. For a moment he didn’t know what to make of it. But after several minutes of sifting through her words, he realized that she had not shut the door on him altogether. There was still a shred of hope.