“You think Harry can do that?”
“Well, if it’s at all possible, Harry’s the one to do it.”
After a moment or two of silence, Lettie started the car and backed out of the driveway. “Where to?”
“Don’t bother,” Jon said. “I can get a taxi.”
“Don’t be silly.”
Jon gave her directions and twenty minutes later they were parked in front of his apartment complex. “I’ll swing by about seven-thirty tomorrow and give you a lift to work,” said Lettie.
“You don’t have to do that,” said Jon.
“I know,” said Lettie, with a smile. “I’ll see you at seven-thirty.”
Chapter Eight
Jon Graeme had a feeling Friday would be a different sort of day for him at HTPS Industries. It was no surprise at all that Harry Sale was not in the office. After Harry’s marathon work session, he would probably sleep around the clock. Harry needed to be rested since he was on call this weekend with the installation of RSFQT Version 2.0 on Big Moe. What Jon had not counted on was that Harry’s absence would pull him into the vortex of office politics at HTPS.
Jon was just settling in and beginning a final revision of the documentation for the ZDX Smart Memory software—a document he had been working on for the last month. Without so much as a knock on the door, Matt O’Reilly, a Senior Analyst and Director of the C-2 section, walked into his office. Not only had this never happened before, it was totally out of line with the corporate culture of HTPS. Normally, if Matt O’Reilly had wanted to communicate anything to him outside the bi-weekly department meeting, it would have been through an administrative assistant or through the personnel department. Jon was immediately on guard.
“Hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Matt said curtly. It was obvious from his expression that he could care less whether he had.
O’Reilly was a thin man of average height. He had narrow shoulders and moved with a stiff reserve. His face was thin, with a ruddy complexion, and his pale blue eyes didn’t blink often. He sat on the edge of Jon’s desk.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here,” he said, his smile disingenuous.
Jon swallowed and wondered if a response was required. As it turned out, it wasn’t.
“You’ve only been here a short time, Jon. But you’ve had an immediate impact. You not only finish projects on time, but ahead of schedule. You never gloss over the difficult parts and your writing is always clear and precise. You’ve never refused an assignment and you’ve always come through, even on the tough ones. And it is not lost on me that you are often the first one here in the morning and the last one to leave at night.”
Jon was surprised by this high praise. “Thanks, Matt. That means a great deal to me.”
Matt smiled again, this time with a degree of sincerity. “I’m happy to be the one to tell you that your probationary period here at HTPS Industries is officially over. Starting with your next paycheck, you’ll be getting a twelve percent increase in salary.”
“That’s great news! Thank you, Matt.”
“My pleasure,” Matt replied. “I like your work ethic, Jon. And I like your style. You seem to have a talent for getting on with everyone, even the difficult types like Harry Sale.”
Jon’s elation turned to unease. Was he being buttered up for something?
“And I’ll be frank, there are some highly placed people here at HTPS who have their eyes on you. They think you’re a comer.”
Matt O’Reilly paused, as though expecting a reply. But Jon was mute. He did not know how to respond. Deep down he sensed there was a ‘but’ in the man’s voice. Sure enough, it soon followed.
“But I do have a word of warning,” Matt continued. “There are certain people, and I don’t mind naming them, that you would be better off keeping your distance from. I think you know who I mean—Harry Sale and Lettie Olsen. They’re both lightning rods for trouble, take my word for it.”
Matt’s warning about Harry was understandable. Harry had a talent for stepping on toes. But he was mystified to hear Lettie included in the warning.
Putting aside his normal reserve, Jon decided to speak up. “Lettie Olsen is a troublemaker?” he asked. “I’ve heard that she is really good at her job, and she is always professional when I talk to her.”
“Well, I suppose she is,” said Matt. “But she’s just a bit too … too ….” Matt broke off with a wave of his hand, not bothering to finish the sentence. “I can give you an example from just the other day. We were having a working lunch for the interdivisional department heads. Afterward, the table was a real mess—empty coffee cups and pizza cartons, that kind of thing. So I told Lettie to clean it up. She gives me a look like I can’t believe, tells me she has more important things to do and walks out of the conference room. Can you believe that? And right in front of all the department heads. What a bitch!”
Jon’s face darkened. For a brief instant, he debated telling the man exactly what he thought of him. But before he could make a reply, Matt stood up, oblivious to Jon’s altered body language.
“I enjoy working with you, Jon,” Matt said. “Welcome aboard. I’m sure you have a long and prosperous future with us here at HTPS Industries.” Before Jon could think of anything to say, Matt had turned and walked out of the office.
After Matt left, Jon was at sixes and sevens and could not concentrate or get back to work. He did not like finding himself square in the middle of office politics that he had no understanding of. Clearly people were involved who were a lot higher up than Matt O’Reilly. Someone had pulled on Matt’s string and, like the loyal little HTPS lifer he was, he had jumped in the direction the powers-that-be wanted him to jump. But where had the warning about Lettie and Harry come from?
He soon found out.
He had barely gotten back to work when there was a knock on the door.
“Come on in,” Jon said. “It’s open.”
A rangy-looking security guard entered his office. Without introducing himself, the man delivered his message. “You’re to come with me to the Barrington Conference room in Building A.”
“What’s this about?” Jon asked, startled. Jon had only been inside Building A once. On the day he had been hired, he had been given a whirlwind tour of the facilities. Building A was where Benton Reeves had his office.
“I have no idea. I was just told to escort you there.”
In silence, the security guard drove Jon to Building A in a small battery-driven vehicle. Jon knew it would be pointless to ask the driver further questions.
As they approached Building A, Jon could not help but be impressed, even though he didn’t particularly care for the style. It was a modern take on art deco, all granite and steel, with intricate geometric designs built in around the windows and the balconies. Building B, which housed accounting and support, and Building C, which housed the programming divisions, were much more functional and plain vanilla.
The reception area of Building A was just as opulent as Jon remembered. The walls were made of granite and the chairs and furnishings reminded him of a Thomas Moser catalogue. The security guard escorted Jon to the main elevator bank and took him to the Barrington Conference Room at the top level of the building. Jon’s mouth had suddenly gone dry and the pit of his stomach had an uneasy feeling.
When he entered the room, Jon saw George Ludwig sitting at the head of the conference table next to a man he recognized as John Balis, the Senior Assistant of Benton Reeves. He was known throughout the company as ‘The Hatchet.’ He did the work that was either too dirty or too distasteful for Benton Reeves and had a reputation for amputating unwanted personnel with all the aplomb of a butcher working a dead piece of meat. His appearance contrasted sharply with his reputation. He had silver-white hair and almost leading man good looks. A television series casting a CEO would probably select an actor who looked like John Balis. He seemed authoritative and stern, but also friendly and approachable.
Both men smiled
as he entered. Balis’ smile was broad and toothy, like a salesman’s. Ludwig’s smile was small and forced and revealed two rows of jagged, uneven teeth. Jon thought of the nickname Lettie had for him, “Ferret Mouth.”
“Have a seat, my boy,” Ludwig said in an affable, almost avuncular voice.
Jon quickly seated himself and looked expectantly at the two men.
“I’ve heard excellent reports about your work, Jon,” Ludwig began with no prelude. “I hear you have a solid grasp of code and also that you’re a very good writer. It’s an unusual skill set in this business and one that we value.”
Jon was sitting on the edge of his chair. For the second time this day he was wondering why he was being set up.
“How would you like to be the senior technical writer in the Advanced Programming Division?”
Jon swallowed and paused to evaluate the question. They were offering him Lettie’s job.
“You’ve kind of caught me by surprise,” he said. “I’ve only recently been getting comfortable with my current duties.”
A knowing look flashed across Ludwig’s face and Jon wondered what the man had seen in his response.
“I can’t promise you anything definite at this point, but it is entirely possible that something might open up for you in the Advanced Programming Division.”
It’s the carrot, Jon thought. He’s dangling a carrot in front of me.
“You’ve developed quite a reputation for getting along with ornery, intractable types,” John Balis said. “Unfortunately there’re all too many of them here—part prima donna and part Lone Ranger.”
“Like Harry Sale,” George Ludwig added, his contempt for Harry all too apparent.
Balis and Ludwig glanced at each other. Watch out, Jon told himself, here it comes.
“Has Harry shared with you what he’s been working on so intensely this past week?” Ludwig asked.
The options for responding to this question flashed through Jon’s mind. He could tell them the truth, he could claim he didn’t know anything about the project, or he could use the same cock-and-bull story Harry had already passed off on Benton Reeves.
“Well,” Jon said to buy time for himself, “Harry has been kind of tight-lipped about what he’s been doing.”
The two men stared intently at Jon, waiting for him to continue.
“As I understand it, from the few things Harry’s told me, he’s found a new approach to the PIM programming. He indicated that it’s not exactly the processor in memory kind of construct he’s been working on, but a new approach for managing distributed information. He intends on optimizing load balancing and reducing latency and contention. I’m afraid he hasn’t shared any of the more technical details with me.”
George Ludwig’s face darkened. “A tall order, even for the great Harry Sale.”
“And that’s all you know?” Balis asked, irritation edging his words. He glared at Ludwig as he spoke.
Jon nodded.
The two men gave each other a furtive look before George Ludwig rose from his chair.
“Thank you for stopping by,” he said. “If you should learn anything more, please feel free to contact me at any time.”
Jon understood that he was being dismissed.
“Feel free to contact me, too,” Balis added as Jon stood up. For a second, Jon wondered if he should say anything else, but he quickly realized that nothing was needed. As far as these two men were concerned, he was no longer present in the room.
The rest of the morning was a complete waste. Jon just couldn’t focus on the business at hand. All kinds of stray thoughts ran through his head, most of them centered on Lettie and Harry.
How would Lettie react if he told her about Ludwig offering him her position? Would she be threatened, would she close up like a clam? And what if he didn’t tell her? Would she feel completely betrayed if she was demoted and he was put in her stead? He was damned if he told her and damned if he didn’t.
And there was the whole issue of Harry. Clearly there were animosities and bad feelings about Harry going back years and years, long before he had ever arrived on the scene. He had been working at HTPS for a little over six months; whereas Harry had been there for years and years—plenty of time to cultivate deep-rooted rivalries.
In their own narrow way, Ludwig and Balis were completely right about Harry. He was a prima donna, a lone ranger. As brilliant as he was, he was still too cocksure. But those two men were coldhearted bastards who completely ignored the underside of Harry Sale. Harry was kind-hearted to a fault, a guy who would give you the shirt off his back if he thought for one moment you needed it more than he did. If there was ever a Good Samaritan alive and well in the modern world, it was Harry. If only people could get over his faults, they would see this.
And then there was Lettie. Jon knew he was falling for her. She had everything he desired in a woman. Character, brains, and beauty—Lettie had it all in abundance. And yet, it was obvious she was completely smitten with Harry Sale.
Jon tried his best to push all these tumbling thoughts aside and get on with his work. But he had little success and was greatly relieved when it was time to break for lunch. A change in scene was exactly what he needed.
As Jon entered the company cafeteria, he saw Lettie carrying her lunch tray and heading toward a table in the back. Jon rushed through the serving line before following her to the table.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked.
“I guess not,” she said in a flat, neutral voice. She didn’t so much as look up at him.
When he sat down, Jon could tell something was wrong with her. There was an angry, hurt look on her face and, just below her left eye, a minute streak of mascara.
“What’s wrong?” Jon asked, tactless in his surprise.
“Not a damn thing!” she said.
Jon thought about making a sort of joke about the discrepancy between what she was saying and her demeanor, but he had the good sense to realize that such an approach would be a big mistake.
“You know, Lettie, I’ve come to think of you as a friend. Sometimes it can help to talk things over with a friend and get another point of view.”
Lettie looked at him uncertainly. Jon could almost see that she was weighing exactly how much she trusted him.
“It’s George Ludwig,” she finally said. “He’s threatening to have me fired, or at the very least demoted.”
“But why?”
“Because I won’t go to bed with him,” Lettie blurted out, her white-knuckled hand gripping her fork. “He’s been hitting on me ever since day one. But this time he’s stepped over the line. He out and out propositioned me, practically ordered me to spend the weekend with him. He said that if I didn’t, he’d make sure I was fired. ”
“That son-of-a-bitch!” Jon said. “You should slap a sexual harassment suit on that bastard. There are laws against that kind of crap.”
Lettie shook her head. “That’s just a fairy tale that women tell themselves in order to feel better. In reality there’s little I can do. It’s happened here before and the women who made the complaints just silently disappeared from their jobs. It would be career suicide to file a suit. I would never get another job at a top-flight place.”
“But it’s so wrong. Surely there’s something you can do. Aren’t there any witnesses?”
Lettie shook her head. “Jon, you’re a newbie. You don’t understand this place. It’s a complete Old Boys’ Club and they’ve got a fifty million dollar slush fund to deal with any legal problem. They’d find two witnesses in no time saying that I was harassing George Ludwig.”
Jon leaned back from the table and stared intently at her troubled face. “What are you going to do?”
“Well, I’m damn well not going to spend the weekend with that creep!”
“I know,” said Jon. “I know, but there must be options. There are always options.”
“Yeah, and none of them are any good. Here I’m worried sick that Harry’s going t
o get fired and suddenly my head’s in the guillotine.”
“Maybe he’s bluffing,” said Jon, although after his meeting, he knew George was serious. A shiver of guilt ran through him. Should he tell Lettie about his meeting, or would that just make her angrier? Unsure what to do, Jon said nothing.
“I don’t think so. Word has it that he now has the ear of the Old Man himself, through John Balis. Ludwig gives Balis inside information about what goes down in programming inside the Advanced Division. In return, John Balis passes on Ludwig’s issues and concerns to the Old Man. You’ve heard of John Balis, haven’t you?”
Jon nodded. “The Hatchet,” he said.
“Exactly. That’s what they call him, and for a good reason.” Lettie paused and then continued, her shoulders slumping. “He has a lot of pull. Just one word from him and any Department head will start to sweat. He’s got an inside track with Benton Reeves going way back.”
Their conversation lapsed into silence, neither one of them knowing quite what to say.
“It’s just so damned unfair!” Lettie finally said.
“We can’t give up,” said Jon. “We’ve got to fight!”
Lettie gave him a questioning look. “We?”
“I want to help. I’ll do anything I can. You and Harry both are very important people to me.”
Lettie stared closely at him. “Jon, you’re a pretty special guy.”
“We’ll find a way through this,” Jon said confidently. “Just you wait and see.”
Gradually their conversation shifted to less serious matters. Mentioning his interview with Ludwig and Balis seemed too much like throwing gasoline on a fire at this point, although he still felt guilty for not mentioning it.
Just as they finished up, Lettie looked at him intently. “You know, Jon, you’re different from most men. You don’t try to hit on every woman you meet. I like that. Harry’s the same way.”
The Infinity Program Page 6
