The Infinity Program

by Richard H Hardy

  At first Jon was surprised by her uncharacteristic show of emotion. Lettie was normally so self-possessed and self-assured. Why is she so distraught? he thought. And then it hit him. She really cared about him, and not just as a friend.

  “I’m really sorry, Lettie.”

  The hurt, accusing looked faded and she became more composed. “They’re going to fire me, Jon. I’m going to get the pink slip next week.”

  “But why?”

  “That son of a bitch George Ludwig cornered me in my office. He propositioned me again. He said it was my last chance. If I don’t sleep with him, he is going to get me fired. Then he grabbed my ass!”

  “What did you do?” Jon asked.

  “I dumped my coffee over his head.”

  Jon could not help himself. He laughed.

  “It’s not funny! I thought he was going to slap me! He even drew his hand back. Then he said, ‘You’re out of here. Don’t even bother to come in on Monday.’”

  “He can’t fire you. Only Human Resources can do that, after a review.”

  Jon’s statement of fact had a calming effect. “But he can get me fired. He’s in tight with Balis. One word from Balis to Human Resources and I’m gone.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Jon. “I was late tonight because I had an afterhours meeting with Balis and Benton Reeves—”

  “You what?” Lettie said in disbelief.

  Jon smiled. “It’s a long story. Have you had dinner yet?”

  Lettie shook her head.

  “Well, let’s get something to eat at Miller’s and I’ll tell you the whole story. And you’re not going to get fired, I guarantee it.” But I am, he thought. Despair crept over him again, but vanished when they got out of the car and walked toward the front entrance of Miller’s. Impulsively Lettie took his hand and moved closer to him. For the first time that day, Jon believed things were going to turn out all right.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Jon Graeme woke the next morning, the first thing he recalled was his final moments with Lettie the night before. After having dinner and lingering for a long time over dessert and coffee, he walked her back to her car. As they stood there, keys in hand, she turned toward him and gave him a hug. The hug must have lasted more than a minute and as she stepped away, she hesitated. Grabbing him by the shirt, Lettie kissed him so passionately that his whole body vibrated in response. Afterward, her face flushed in either embarrassment or excitement or both, she smiled at him and said a quick good night, slid into the driver’s seat of her car and drove off without a backward glance.

  Jon smiled as he lay in bed for several minutes, mentally replaying that moment. But the feeling of warmth vanished when he remembered his meeting with Balis and Benton Reeves, and panic swept over him. Going to work felt like a waste of time. He had burned his bridges and all he could expect was a pink slip on his desk.

  The feeling of dread stayed with him as he got ready for work. Several times he tried to focus on Lettie again, but all that came to mind was Balis’ curt dismissal.

  As he drove toward HTPS Industries a new set of worries crashed over him. Suppose Harry didn’t return from Tartan’s Crag anytime soon and Balis and Reeves had gone ahead and scheduled an immediate test for Big Moe? What would he do then? Worse yet, suppose Harry returned and the second test was a failure?

  ***

  When Jon arrived at work, he saw that his office was just as he had left it. He circled his desk warily, afraid of what he might find. But there was nothing he hadn’t left behind himself.

  He booted up his PC and waited tensely until he could access his email. Nothing new in his “In” folder. This was odd in itself, but at least there wasn’t a termination notice.

  Jon tried to shrug off the pall of impending doom and opened the folder of release changes. Updating the changes leading up to the next release was a never-ending task. Every time he was close to catching up he would be assigned another special project that would put him hopelessly behind again.

  An hour later, lulled into a false sense of security by the absence of repercussions, he was startled by the abrupt appearance of Matt O’Reilly, who stormed into his office without warning.

  O’Reilly started speaking as soon as he stepped into the room. “Well, I guess you better get all your personal things packed, Jon. You can forward your most recent draft of the ZDX Smart Memory documentation to Sue Angelino. Also, Sue will be stopping by later and you can fill her in on your open projects and pass on any of your notes to her. She’ll help you wrap up loose ends.”

  Jon’s lips parted, as though to respond, but nothing came out. “Does this mean I’ve been fired?” he finally managed to say.

  O’Reilly shrugged. “I don’t know what it means. You don’t either?”

  Jon could not respond and sat frozen in his chair.

  “All I know is that John Balis wants you packed and out of this office by the end of the day. He actually didn’t say whether or not you’re fired. If you were, he’d say so, right? But you’re definitely not working in this Division anymore.” Matt gave him a sympathetic smile. “Jon, it’s been nice working with you. You’ve done a great job here. I’m sorry to see you go.”

  Matt O’Reilly extended his hand and Jon stood and shook hands with his former boss. On his way toward the door, Matt stopped and turned back. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you about Harry Sale. That guy is a lightning rod for trouble.”

  Later in the morning, after he spent two and a half hours filling in Sue Angelino on the status of various projects, Jon’s bewilderment changed to anger. The management was showing a total lack of respect by hanging him out to dry like this. It was almost maddening enough to make him walk out of the office and be done with it. But a thread of hope prevented him from doing so. Fairly recently, Lettie had told him how dysfunctional HTPS Industries was in regard to communications. Relaying personnel changes seemed to be their lowest priority. Just the other day in the break room he had heard a project manager recount how he had not known about a promotion until he saw a sudden increase in his paycheck.

  By noon he was bored stiff. He had deleted all his personal email and organized all his work folders per Sue Angelino’s instructions. Throughout the morning he had monitored his Inbox, hoping that someone would have the decency to fill him in on what was happening. Not a single email arrived.

  Jon wished for the hundredth time that he could give Lettie a call. She had told him last night that she would be out of the office and tied up the entire day in meetings and conference calls. She wouldn’t even have a regular lunch break because of a teleconference scheduled during the noon hour.

  He looked at his watch and saw that it was well past noon. A rumble in his stomach made him aware that, regardless of his future at HTPS Industries, he was ready for lunch.

  After lunch he returned to his office to find that he had still not received a single email or phone message. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon. He turned over the possibilities in his mind and realized he had two options. He could call Harry to see if he had returned from Tartan’s Crag and he could email Lettie.

  He punched in Harry’s cellphone and listened patiently. It rang over a dozen times, with no pickup. Next he called Harry’s home phone, but that too rang endlessly. Apparently Harry had disconnected his answering machine. Jon sighed and hung up the phone. Even though he hadn’t expected Harry to answer, he was still disappointed.

  He sent an email to Lettie. He kept it simple, keying in a short text message: “Lettie, please give me a call when you get the chance. It’s important.” He didn’t want to go into any detail since he had heard rumors that HTPS sometimes screened emails. While the company allowed their email servers to be used for personal business, they also did their best to discourage the practice.

  The rest of the afternoon passed with maddening slowness. For lack of anything else, he logged onto the Internet. He jumped from site to site but was unable to c
oncentrate on anything. Too many other concerns vied for his attention.

  Finally he was reduced to hall walking. Though it was a common practice at HTPS, he had never cared for it personally. The halls were painted white and the florescent lights above were much brighter than were needed for the narrow hallway. In no time at all he began to feel like a rat in a maze.

  Winding his way through Building C, he kept passing Walt Zoeller. Every time he approached Walt, the tall, gangly programmer moved to the far side of the corridor. Jon felt as if he was carrying a communicable disease. He guessed that the rumors about him were already starting to spread.

  These repeated Walt sightings made him recall a comment Matt O’Reilly had once made about him. “That guy is on his feet more than a cow!” No wonder Walt had a reputation for bugs and glitches and memory leaks.

  At four in the afternoon he tried to call Harry again. Still no luck. What on earth was Harry up to? What could possibly be occupying him at Tartan’s Crag?

  When the phone rang, Jon nearly jumped out of his chair. He took a deep breath and let it ring a second time so that he could compose himself.

  “Hi, Jon.” Lettie’s familiar voice soothed his nerves. “It’s Lettie. What’s up?”

  Jon quickly started to fill her in, but before he could complete his second sentence, she interrupted him. “I’m sorry, Jon,” she said, “I’ve got two minutes before I’m due at the next meeting. It should only run until five o’clock. Can I swing by your office then? ”

  “Sure,” said Jon and then sighed when Lettie hung up. He was disappointed that she didn’t have time to talk, but seeing her at the end of the day would provide some consolation.

  At ten to five his long wait finally ended. Without bothering to knock, John Balis entered his office, an amused expression on his face.

  “I trust I’m not interrupting anything,” he said.

  Jon simply rose from his desk, too indignant to reply.

  Balis crossed the room and seated himself in the chair in front of Jon’s desk. He crossed his legs casually and gave Jon a long and penetrating stare. Jon gritted his teeth, sat down again, and waited for the man to speak.

  “It seems you made quite an impression on Benton last night. He’s always had a soft spot for young men with chutzpa. He’s decided to give you a chance. We’ve arranged a second test for your friend Harry Sale.”

  The cloud of defeat that had hung over his day evaporated. “That’s great news!” he said.

  “We’ve scheduled a new test on Big Moe for six p.m. on Saturday. That’s the only window of opportunity we’ll have for the next six weeks.”

  Jon did his best to remain poker-faced. Tomorrow at six o’clock was way too soon. He had no way of knowing when Harry would return from Tartan’s Crag. Things were happening far too fast, but he knew he had no choice but to forge ahead. If he temporized now, all was lost.

  “That’s great!” Jon responded. “We’ll be there.”

  John Balis lowered his head and stared over the top of his glasses. The faraway expression was gone, replaced by his characteristic icy reserve. He uncrossed his legs and put his hands on the arms of the chair.

  “As for your situation, Mr. Graeme, it depends on what happens tomorrow. If the test fails, you needn’t bother to report to work again. We’ll send you your last check in the mail. However, if the results of the test are satisfactory, you will report to Building A for a new work assignment.”

  A hundred questions ran through Jon’s mind but before he could ask a single one, Balis stood abruptly from his chair, again preoccupied.

  “Until tomorrow,” he said, then turned sharply on his heels and left.

  Jon leaned forward on his desk and put his hands on his head. A tension headache was building with a vengeance. For the hundredth time that day he regretted that he had pushed his harebrained plan forward with Balis and Reeves. He promised himself that in the future he would steer clear of the two of them—if in fact he had a future at HTPS.

  A tap on the door interrupted his bleak thoughts. The door swung open and Lettie walked into his office. She smiled at him and spoke breathlessly before he could say anything.

  “Can you believe it? I still have another meeting two minutes from now.”

  She paused in the doorway. Jon caught a fleeting expression on her face that might be nervousness.

  “Jon,” she said, “Would you like to have dinner at my place tonight?”

  Jon couldn’t believe his ears. “That would be great. I’d love to.”

  “You know where I live, right?”

  “Yes,” Jon said with a nod.

  “Would seven-thirty be okay?”

  “Perfect,” he answered quickly.

  “See you tonight!” she said with a smile. She blew him a kiss and rushed out the door, heading to her next appointment.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The stakeout in front of Harry’s condominium began late Saturday morning. Jon had tried to reach him by phone at least a dozen times. He had kept trying, even though he knew from experience that Harry often turned his cellphone off. He finally gave up and decided that the best way to contact Harry would be to park near his condo and hope and pray that Harry returned in time for the scheduled test at HTPS Industries.

  Jon sat in his car sipping an oversized cup of coffee. His seat was tipped back for a better view of Harry’s condo. He could see any approach that Harry could possibly make. The old Studebaker that Harry drove would be easy to spot.

  As tense and worried as he was, his thoughts about Harry and the test were continually interrupted by memories of the previous evening. Lettie was so relaxed and calm, and she had looked at him with a warm openness that thrilled him. During dinner she had chatted about this and that. It was almost as though she had forgotten about Harry. Jon tried several times to bring up the subject of the test of Harry’s new operating system and its implications, but Lettie always diverted the conversation.

  All through dinner she surprised him by how much she opened up. She spoke about her family background, her early years growing up in Michigan, her college years at USC. Most surprisingly she told him about some of the men in her life. Her experiences, for the most part, had not been of the happy kind. At this point in the conversation she finally mentioned Harry’s name.

  “You know,” she said, “I think I’ve figured out why I’ve always gotten involved with men like Harry. The answer is so obvious that I can’t believe it didn’t jump out at me long ago. My father was a professor of mathematics at the University of Michigan. He was always so remote and distant and so impossibly hard to please. I majored in computer science because I thought it would make him happy. But he never said a word, one way or the other. If the subject wasn’t about transfinite numbers or Set Theory, he wasn’t interested. In so many ways he was just like Harry. He was even the same physical type, thin and wiry and a bundle of nervous energy. The only thing that doesn’t make sense to me now is why I didn’t I realize all this before.”

  Lettie looked intently at Jon, measuring his reaction to what she had just said.

  “I can’t help but wonder about Harry though,” she continued. “Do you think there’s ever been a woman in his life?”

  “I’ve never been able to find out. He’s always been evasive and changes the subject whenever I ask. So I stopped asking. I think he really has some issues. I know his father died when he was very young and his mother was a chronic alcoholic. He was lucky to get through it all as well as he did.”

  Lettie was quiet for a second before changing the subject again. “One of the things I like so much about you, Jon, is that you are a great listener. You know, Jon ….”

  She stopped talking and the color rose in her cheeks. She looked flustered and unsure of herself.

  “Would you like another glass of wine?” she asked.

  As Jon sat in the car sipping coffee, he wondered what Lettie had been about to say. Of course, there had been unspoken clues, subtle hints a
ll evening aside from the passionate good night kiss that indicated how her feelings had changed. Jon kept replaying the moment of that kiss in his mind. He could still recall the scent of her perfume. A faint whiff of it clung to his shirt and he tried to recapture it now, holding the sleeve up to his nose.

  A tenant in the condo next to Harry’s opened his front door and walked toward the parking lot. Jon followed the movement automatically, re-focusing his attention. He sighed when he saw that it was just another false alarm. Without thinking, he pulled out his cellphone and dialed Harry’s number again. It rang and rang.

  At about two in the afternoon, Jon drove around the block to a filling station to use the men’s room. At least it was a momentary break. When he returned to the street in front of Harry’s condo, someone had taken his parking place. He found one a little farther down, but was forced to adjust his side mirrors.

  I am absolutely nuts to be doing this, he thought. Harry won’t be back in time. I should be spending my time online, looking for another job.

  He wondered how another job would change things with Lettie. Would it matter? Would she feel differently about him? Supposing he couldn’t find another job around here? What then? With only a few thousand dollars in his bank account, he didn’t have the luxury of time. He clenched his fists. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he said aloud.

  By four o’clock in the afternoon he was so utterly bored that he could hardly keep his eyes open. They were just starting to close when the sound of a punctured muffler rattled him awake. To his amazement, there was Harry in his Studebaker, turning into the parking lot. Jon felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. He wanted to leap out of the car and run madly toward his friend. But even as he grabbed the door handle, a sense of caution made him consider his next move.

  He waited until Harry got out of his car and started toward his condo. Casually, as though he had all the time in the world, Jon got out of his car and walked across the street toward his friend. If he was expecting to catch Harry’s eye, he was disappointed. Harry seemed even more preoccupied than usual. He walked right past Jon without even noticing him.