by Melissa Good
“Gerry—”
“Bye, Dar. See you in a few.”
Dar stared at the phone after it went dead. “I don’t want to meet the president,” she said. “I’m going to end up insulting his ass and they’ll throw me in jail.”
“Ma’am?” The check in agent behind the desk leaned toward her. “Did you need something?”
Dar sighed “No, sorry. Just talking to myself.” She shifted over as the agent started announcing the boarding of the flight. She debated calling Kerry, then shrugged and dialed her number.
It rang twice, then was answered. “Hey, babe.” Kerry’s voice sounded wryly amused. “I made it up the sidewalk into the building. Mayte guarded me.”
“Maybe she should come guard me,” Dar said. “Gerry just called. Apparently the president wants to meet me.”
Brief silence. “Oh.” Kerry’s mental track changing came across audibly. “Ew.”
“Mm.” Dar watched the agent step over to the ticket turnstile. “Anyway, I gotta go on the plane. Just thought I’d let you know what’s waiting for me on the other side.”
“Want me to have my mother show up to guard you?” Kerry asked.
“Ker.”
Kerry chuckled softly. “I thought you called to check up on me. We’re full out nut cases, honey.”
“We are.” Dar smiled. “Okay, let me let you go.” She shifted off the counter and got into line, handing over her boarding pass as the woman scanned it. “Thanks.”
“Know something?” Kerry asked, as Dar walked down the jet way. “I really do wish I was going with you.”
“I wish you were going with me,” Dar said. “So let’s get off the call before I run out of this airport for the second time and get gang tackled. They’re not going to take my excuses twice.”
“Bye, hon,” Kerry said. “Call me later.”
Dar put her gizmo in her pocket, entered the plane and slid into her seat in the front row after putting her backpack up into the overhead. She settled back and gazed out the window, watching the activity of the hard working people outside. She had a change of clothing in the pack, but it occurred to her that she’d be meeting the president in a pair of jeans.
Would that matter? Dar decided it probably wouldn’t, and even if it did, she would convince herself she didn’t care.
With that in mind, she pulled out her gizmo again and typed off a quick message to her parents in case it turned out to matter and she ended up somehow either on the news or in a tabloid paper.
You never knew. She sent the note then turned off the gizmo as the plane finished loading and the crew went to close the door. Dar glanced behind her, seeing a lot of empty seats, including the one next to her. She buckled her seatbelt, then leaned on the center console as the flight attendant came over.
“Hi. Can I get you something to drink before we take off?” The woman asked.
“Orange juice if you have it,” Dar said. “Pretty empty, huh?”
The woman glanced back and shook her head. “People still don’t like flying,” she said, somewhat sadly. “Much as I hate working overbooked flights, this is just scary,” she said. “How can they keep going, you know?”
“I think people will start traveling again,” Dar said. “It’ll just take some time.”
The flight attendant smiled briefly. “I sure hope so.” She left to get Dar’s orange juice as the plane gently backed away from the jet way and the safety video started to play.
Dar settled back into her seat and removed the copy of Skymall from the pocket, leafing through it as the plane taxied. She studied the several varieties of dog beds, wondering if Chino and Mocha would like one for their garden.
Then she had to pause, and enjoy a moment of self-deprecating humor at the thought that she was sitting here shopping for pet beds and pewter giraffe toilet paper holders. What was it Alastair had said once? That she’d become a good family person?
Wacky.
Nevertheless, she kept browsing, spotting several more items she could envision invading their collective personal spaces. She paused on one page, considering, as the plane started its takeoff run. Garden gnomes. Did they need a garden gnome? What about one that recycled drinking water for a dog dish?
Her mind imagined Chino drinking from it, then the image morphed to Mocha sitting in the bowl with water pouring over his head. “Maybe not.” She flipped the page, then tucked the magazine aside as the plane took off and headed skyward.
KERRY SCRIBBLED A set of notes, the last of several pages of them. “Okay, Charles, thanks,” she said. “Wow, those are a lot of projects.”
Charles Suarez, the man seated across from her nodded. “I know. There was a lot of pent up demand internally for these smaller projects that we don’t have personnel bandwidth for and which the bigger guys had no real interest in working on.” He looked apologetic. “No offense to your former employers.”
“None taken.” Kerry scratched her jaw with the edge of her pen. “I turned down smaller projects myself in my past role. There’s a break-even point where you can recoup enough revenue to match the resources spent, and since all the groups were sized for enterprise, there wasn’t much point in having them work on stuff like this.” She indicated the pages. “But that’s not the case here.”
Charles smiled. “Exactly. My company had me contact you soon as we heard because our operations group liked working with you.”
Kerry smiled back. “Thanks for that compliment,” she said. “I’m glad you got to me early, though, I’ve had potential clients in here the last couple days with all kinds of requests. I’m a little surprised, given the economy.”
“You shouldn’t be,” he said. “It’s because of the economy. No one wants to take big risks, and everyone’s looking to keep costs down. Engaging the big guys meant big costs, and engaging an unknown small firm meant big risks.”
“Ah.” Kerry tapped her pen on the desk. “I didn’t think of that. We were always going to open our own business, it just wasn’t the timing we’d anticipated. But here we are.”
“Here you are,” Charles said “So if you could quote all that, I’ll take it to my leadership group and we can see if we can budget to get it done.”
He stood up, and so did Kerry. They shook hands and Kerry stepped around her desk to walk him back over to the stairs. “I like some of the things you guys want to do with mobile communications.” Kerry said. She removed her gizmo from her pocket and showed him. “I think these things are going to get popular.”
“Is that the Handspring?” Charles asked, eagerly. “Can I see it?”
Kerry handed it over. “We’ve been testing them for the past couple of weeks. I really like it. It lets me mix text and mail with a phone, and I only have to carry one thing. I used to carry a cell phone and a PDA. This is better.”
“You bet.” Charles tapped on it. “Oh, I see there...are those programs?”
“Basic ones.” Kerry took it back. “Dar has one on hers that tells her the tides and sea conditions.”
Charles nodded. “That’s what we think, too, that people are going to like having things like that. So we want some programs that let people with phones like that interact with us. We want to be able to send them notes about specials and have them text us back to hold one for them, or things like that,” he said. “We’re a specialty grocery, you know? It’s all about local for us.”
“I get it. I live out on Fisher Island,” Kerry said. “We have that kind of personal relationship out there. You can call and talk to a butcher, whose name you know, and who knows you. It’s sort of like recreating a small town thing.”
“Exactly!” Charles said. “So these ideas, how to boost up local business, and not so much on a national level, is where our local management thinks we can take advantage of the consumer mindset right now.”
Kerry saw him to the door and waved, then detoured into the conference room to get a cup of coffee. “Hey.” She smiled at the cafe runner who was replenishing the
cart. “Just in time.”
The man smiled at her “Hey, Kerry. Heard you had a scare this morning. What a bunch of jacktards those guys are. Gary told them not to come around asking for leftovers if they were going to act like that.” He offered her a small tray of neatly sliced pound cake. “Try the lemon. It’s really good.”
Kerry selected a slice and bit into it. “Oh.” She swallowed hastily. “That is good. Really moist.”
He nodded. “I don’t like it when it’s all dense and dried.” He put the tray down and swapped out a hot thermos of coffee. “Your honey around? They sent over this chocolate chocolate chip muffin for her.”
Kerry started laughing, perching on the conference room table. “Boy, it didn’t take you long to zero in on her, did it? Dar’s on her way to DC at the moment. She’ll be back tomorrow.” She took the muffin. “I’ll try it for her. But yeah, this morning wasn’t much fun. I have to take a lot of blame for it, though, I left the door open. Kinda dumb.”
“It’s a company. You had the right to,” he said. “We leave ours open when we’re in there. Guy had no right coming in here and messing with you. Especially that guy.”
Kerry cocked her head. “Why? I heard from the police he’s some kind of minister?”
The man handed her a cup of coffee. “That’s what he says. From what I heard, he picked that position so he wouldn’t have to get shot at but still get all the perks of being in the military.” He wiped around the cart. “Anyway, gotta get back to the shop. Enjoy the muffin.” He winked and took the old coffee thermos as he left her to ponder.
Kerry dropped into a seat and leaned back, breaking off a piece of the muffin and chewing it as she sipped. She checked her watch, then as if in response, her gizmo buzzed in her pocket. She put her coffee down and removed it, smiling when she saw the caller ID. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Dar’s voice echoed softly, with the background of a busy airport behind her. “Heading to the Pentagon. How’d your meetings go?”
“Really well, and glad you got there all right,” Kerry said. “Call me after you meet Dubya.”
“Ah heh. Yeah,” Dar said. “Later.”
Kerry released the line and put the gizmo down on the table, a smile still on her face. “Hope someone takes a picture,” she said. “Hey, wonder if that’s going to be a publicity thing?” she asked aloud. “That would be crazy publicity.”
She finished the muffin and dusted her fingers off, then picked up her coffee and returned to her office. “What a day,” she said to Mayte as she crossed through the outer office. “I’ve got two more meetings, right?”
“Yes,” Mayte said. “Florida Power and Light, and someone to see you from the Qwest.”
“Ah, yes.” Kerry went to her desk and circled it. “Someone who wants to sell me something rather than hire us.” She checked her mail and opened one. “Ah.”
Her security presenter from the previous day. She propped her chin on her fist and regarded the note, viewing it now from a slightly different perspective. There was something in her that resisted having security at the door, no matter how creepy this morning was. And, as she reminded Dar, despite what the man threatened he didn’t do more than talk.
Just talk. Hot air.
Would he have done more? Kerry felt instinctively he wouldn’t have, though she didn’t have any solid reason why she did.
A soft knock came at the door and she looked up. “C’mon in.”
It opened and Mark’s head poked inside. “Hey.”
Kerry motioned him forward. “Come. Did I say thank you to you for rushing in here to save me this morning?”
Mark chuckled and came inside, walking over and dropping into one of Kerry’s visitor seats. “No problem about the ride in. Dar was pretty freaked out.”
“I know.”
“I got this guy who’s a family friend,” Mark said. “He’s a freelance security guard.”
“Uh huh.” Kerry let him talk it out, though she could plainly see where it was going.
“He’s also an artist.” Mark pushed his train onto an unexpected track. “He likes painting and stuff, and he does security to pay the bills. Anyway, I thought maybe you might want to bring him on for now, until we can sort out the alarm systems and monitoring and all that stuff.”
Kerry leaned back. “Like a contractor?”
Mark nodded. “He’s not real corporate. I wouldn’t have suggested him for the old place, but he’s a real good, solid guy, and he’s got some buddies he can bring in to trade off.”
That seemed more appealing to her than bringing in a security firm. “Okay,” Kerry said. “I like that idea. I don’t want uniformed guys marching around in here. I don’t want us to have that kind of culture in this place.”
Mark nodded and grinned. “Yeah thought so.”
“So bring your guy in and let’s meet him,” Kerry said. “And his buddies.”
“Will do.” Mark stood up. “I called him earlier. He’s waiting for me to call back. Okay for him to come over now?”
“Yup.” Kerry leaned forward. “I would love to tell Dar we worked out security while she was in DC, Before she has to go and meet the president.”
Mark stopped in mid-motion and looked at her, both dark eyebrows hiking up. “Say what?”
“Yeah. She’s bummed. But maybe if they make it a photo op we’ll make The Washington Post and get some business out of it.” Kerry winked at him.
“As long as she doesn’t pop him one,” Mark said. “That could be more publicity than we need, y’know?”
“Oh I’m sure she won’t do that,” Kerry said. “She’s way too smart, right?”
Mark eyed her skeptically then disappeared out the door, shaking his head.
“Right?” Kerry asked her faint reflection in the monitor... “She won’t hit the president. She’s way too smart for that.”
“ALL RIGHT, BOYS. Now pay attention to Dar, and let’s get this rolling.” Gerry looked pointedly at the half dozen men sitting in the room, then nodded briskly at Dar. “Go on then. I’ll go get some chow arranged.” Gerry walked to the door, which was opened by his aide, and disappeared.
The men all looked at Dar, who looked back at them in a long moment of uncomfortable silence.
“Well,” Dar said. “I guess we can start with hello, my name is Dar Roberts and I’m the solutions architect for your new database system.”
The eyes watching her were dubious, to say the least.
Dar absorbed that wryly. “I know none of you are deaf mutes. Gerry would have warned me.”
She saw the wary shift at her casual use of the General’s first name. “So what is it? You don’t trust civs, you don’t trust women, you don’t like girls who are taller than you are? I won’t bite you.”
The one on the far left, a brown-haired man with a scar under one eye cleared his throat. “I’m John Duggan,” he said. “Senior technical officer for the Coast Guard.”
Aw. Leave it to the coasties to speak up first. “Hi, John.”
“We really don’t know who you are, ma’am,” he said. “Except some civilian woman from some civilian company we’ve never heard of, who we’re supposed to cooperate with.”
The other men looked guardedly grateful at the words but kept their eyes on Dar.
“Fair enough,” Dar said. “I am some civilian woman from some civilian company you’ve never heard of because the company was just formed a couple weeks ago. Prior to that I was the CIO of ILS. Which is also a civilian company, but one you might possibly have heard of.” Dar observed the nods. “I left there and started my own company. The very first contract I signed was the one that has me here in this room.”
“You know the General,” John said.
“I do. Or more to the point, the General’s known me since I was born. My father is retired Navy. So though I’m some civilian woman from some civilian company, the service isn’t as alien to me as you might think.”
A thin, middle aged man with dark hair and
glasses regarded her. “You’re Andy’s kid,” he stated flatly. “You look like him.”
Dar nodded again, and smiled. “I am, and I do.”
“Ken Charles,” the man said. “Head of Naval intelligence systems. So that explains why you’re here, but doesn’t explain what the hell we’re supposed to do with you. I know all about this scheme of the Joint Chief’s to get us all communicating. But what they don’t know, and what I assume you do know, is it ain’t that easy.”
“True statement,” Dar said
“Our systems aren’t compatible,” John said. “We all know it. We all live with it. Those goompahs up top think they can just wave their arms around and make that not the case. Well, they can’t.”
“We’d have to all change to new systems,” a third man said, young and blond and with a ferocious crew cut. “Aside from money, which ain’t coming to do that, we’re at war. No time to mess around with intelligence systems.” He gave Dar a truculent look. “Dan Draper. Army,” he added, pointing with his thumb at a fourth man. “This is Daddy Perkins. He’s my tech lead.”
Daddy was a cherubic looking man of middle age, with round, astonished eyes and pink cheeks. “Hello,” he said. “What he said.” He pointed back at Draper. “These guys don’t know what they’re asking.”
A little silence fell. Dar waited to see if anything else was going to be offered. She had her arms folded over her chest and she was leaning against the white board. “You all finished?” she asked, after the silence had lengthened enough to be uncomfortable.
They nodded, after glancing at each other.
“Okay.” Dar turned and picked up one of the white board markers. “So let me just run down what I committed to Gerry to get done, then we can sit and argue about it.”
“Gonna be a long day,” Draper said.
“That’s all right by me,” Dar responded as she sketched. “I just need a break to go meet the president. Then I’ll be back to argue all night if you want.”
“What’s he want from you?” John asked.
