by JT Kalnay
Not likely, Jay thought.
“That’s incredible,” Jay said. “I still remember the first time I saw a computer,” Jay started. “Even though I’ve seen this, it’s still hard to get my arms around it,” Jay said. Dan warmed one percent to the kid, remembering the first time he’d seen the server room, felt the power.
"We can’t go as far as you want. So what can you back off on? Even a little," Bill asked. It was the classic negotiating tactic. Get someone else to move first. Get someone to start negotiating against themselves. Jay turned to face him, now cutting Dan out of the negotiation. After a tense moment, Jay flinched first. He was new to Wall St. and hardball. And, he wanted a crack at all that computing power.
Bill and Jay haggled back and forth for fifteen more minutes. Dan excused himself and then returned a few minutes later. Finally Bill and Jay had a deal ironed out.
"So, you're willing to take the jobs on these terms? Ready to sign today? Right?" Bill asked, trying to finally pin Jay down.
"Pending one last detail,” Jay responded.
"What now?" Dan Landford lamented. He sounded exasperated. Bill cut Dan his hardest look yet.
"Well, I promised my mom I'd talk to her lawyer friend before I signed any deal. She's known the guy for forty years and doesn't do anything without asking him. I promised,” Jay said. He was telling the truth. Devoted to his mother and fully aware of her mistrust of "East Coast Sharpies,” he'd promised her to let the long time family lawyer look over any offer he received. Jay had also recognized the opportunity as the negotiating tool it was. So did Bill.
Dan nearly lost it. His face took on the look of a pot of pasta boiling over on the stove. Froth was forming around his mouth, little dribbles of spit running down the side of his face, his breathing was an angry staccato.
"Holy shit kid. You come in here and bust our balls for more money, a frickin' window office and four weeks of vacation and now you won't sign?” Landford rolled his eyes and let out a loud sigh. His face was eight shades of red. Bill was trying to stare him down, shut him up.
Jay stood up and made leaving sounds. Landford stopped in mid-sentence, he didn't believe the kid would walk, not after seeing the server room. Bill wasn't so sure. He felt his candidate slipping away. Maybe they had misjudged Jay Calloway? Maybe the profiles were wrong? Maybe there was a side to this kid they knew nothing about?
"Jay wait,” Bill said. "We have no problems with the lawyer thing. Everything's above board here. I want you to come in feeling you're on solid ground, no doubts, no worries. Here's what I ask though. We need a firm yes or no, in writing, a fax is okay, by Thursday noon at the latest. Alright?"
"Sure,” Jay answered. Bill shook hands and walked him to the elevator.
"Just one last thing Bill. Between you and me. There's no way I'm going to work for Dan,” Jay said.
"I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Bill said. They looked at each other for a tense moment and then broke into laughter. Jay shook hands and got in the elevator. Bill went back to the office, feeling lighter and more confident about his candidate.
"What a prima donna!” Dan started. Bill cut him off.
"Way to go asshole,” Bill shot. "The best candidate in five years and you piss him off. He's exactly the right profile. A loner, no close friends, no girlfriend, poor family. We get him and within six months we own him. And you have to piss him off?” Bill's face was getting red. Spit was starting to fly from his mouth with each hard word. His hands balled and unballed, he looked like a large cat ready to pounce on Dan Landford. Dan shrank back into his chair.
"You know what we can do with him. Why'd you do it? Why?” Bill glared at Landford. The coward cowed. No answer was forthcoming from his trembling lips. Landford stared back as long as he could and then meekly averted his eyes. Bill stalked out of the room, wondering if it was the last time he'd seen Jay Calloway and if it was, what he was going to do to Dan Landford.
Chapter
"Redmond was pretty cool, lots of opportunities, but I don't know,” Rick Hewlett said over coffee in his apartment. Jay Calloway was sitting across the table sipping on a diet coke. Jay had never picked up the coffee habit.
"What's not to know?" Jay asked. "Good money, chance to be a millionaire with those stock options. You get to work for the richest youngest genius in America. I know you like Seattle.”
"Yeah I like Seattle, but I loved this place in Oregon.”
"Why?"
"It's in a small town, about ten miles from the coast, right on a nice little river. It's fifteen minutes from the ocean and fifteen minutes from the first of the big peaks. Clean air, clean water..."
Jay cut him off. "Okay, okay Mr. Audubon, but what's the job?" Jay demanded. "And what does it pay?"
"The job is a little of everything. Database design, programming, field work, data modeling, even data entry.”
"Sweet Jesus Rick, data entry? You're going to do data entry with a Ph.D.?"
"Well there's only three guys so far, so I'd be THE computer guy, call all the shots, make all the decisions. And the three guys are all real cool. Two of the guys have Ph.D.s in environmental science and the other guy is a lawyer. I can see this being the top environmental consulting firm for the whole Northwest. I'd be getting in on the ground floor. And, there would be lots of data entry done in the field. That means in the mountains, on the beach, in the forest. Not a bad place to do data entry…”
"Alright already, you sold me. But what's it pay?" Jay demanded. He set his foot to tapping, waiting for the piece of data he knew he could attack. For some reason he was jealous of Rick. Maybe Jay was upset at how he had limited his choices to the CIA, the Navy, and MacKenzie Lazarus. Rick seemed genuinely interested in his work, not just what it could get him. Jay realized he’d missed that part of the job profiling process.
"A thousand a month plus one half a percent of the stock per month up to a limit of twenty five percent by the end of 4 years,” Rick said.
"A thousand a month?" Jay erupted. "Holy shit Rick, MacKenzie Lazarus is offering me two thousand a week for crying out loud.” Jay saw his friend looking into his coffee. He stopped his harangue.
"Sorry,” Jay said meekly.
"Twenty five percent by 4 years Jay. That means I'm an equal partner, I own it. Remember how we both wanted to be in charge, didn't want to work for anybody? Are you ever going to own one quarter of MacKenzie Lazarus?" Rick looked at Jay. The differences in the two men were never more apparent than they were at that second. Rick was willing to take a fraction of what he could get in return for building equity in a company and a cause he believed in. Jay was willing to uproot his whole way of life, leave all of his friends, for two grand a week and a chance to live in hell. Jay finished his soda and got up.
He stood easily. After Rick was gone there would be no roots to bind him here, here or anywhere else. In this minute, in Rick's apartment, he'd seen what life could be when you cared about something, when you had a dream, when you had a goal, and you were willing to sacrifice for it.
"Well... I gotta go,” Jay said.
"See you,” Rick answered. Jay let himself out. He drove straight to the arcade on campus. After playing Centipede for an hour he drove home and went right to his desk. The ML offer sheet was lying on his desk, the lawyer's notes were right beside it. Over the desk was a picture of Jay and Rick and the rest of their intramural champion golf team. Jay had his arm around Rick and both men were smiling. Jay grabbed for his pen, signed the offer sheet, then flopped down in his bed and cried himself to sleep.
The next day he called Bill Beck and faxed him the signed offer. It was two weeks until graduation.
The next day Jay and Rick were civil in the morning at work. The air hung thick between them. Jay neither able to nor seemingly willing to try to fix what he had broken. With the impending graduation and their leaving for the opposite coasts, Jay was worried that it might just end this way between them. Finally Rick had enough.
He rolled his chair over to Jay's desk and sat there quiet and staring like some temple cat until Jay looked up. The two stared at each other, Jay trying hard to look aloof and mad at the same time but succeeding in neither. After a minute, the two were laughing and joking and trading insulting comments about the exam answers they were grading. It was like nothing had ever happened.
Hours later they piled out of the computer science building, all the work done, with only proctoring responsibilities left until graduation. They laughed at one last joke and headed for their cars, planning to play golf the next day.
Across the quadrangle, the man dressed in alumni clothes snapped two more pictures of Rick and Jay.
Jay, Rick, and C. Daniel stood on the 11th tee at Municipal Golf Links just outside Oxford, Ohio. At just two dollars per round for a student membership, it was the best deal any of them could imagine. Luckily it was a nice course, and one that they had played often through their years at Miami. The group ahead had slowed down noticeably over the round, likely the effect of the beer cans Jay kept noticing in the trash bins at each tee.
“You know I’ve often wondered how my membership never ran out here?” Rick asked. “In fact, I don’t even remember paying for my membership the first time.”
“Me neither,” C. Daniel added. “You think it was some kind of computer glitch?”
Jay’s face reddened. “Those damn computers. You never know what they’re going to break,” he said.
“So how hard was it to hack their system?” Rick asked.
“What you talkin’ ‘bout Willis?” Jay said.
“Riiiiight,” C. Daniel added.
"It wasn’t hard. Say, did I tell you about the girl I met in New York City?" Jay asked. Rick's ears pricked up immediately. C. Daniel slowly shook his head, he’d heard these tales before. Neither Rick nor Jay had much time for women in the past several months and therefore any talk of females was instantly newsworthy.
"You didn't say anything about a girl,” Rick answered. "No pride weekend?" Rick asked. He knew Jay's infrequent habit with females pretty well.
"No, no, nothing like that. We didn't do it or anything,” Jay said.
"I met her at a Reds/Mets game and we had a couple beers. Sunday morning she stopped by the hotel and we went for a jog.”
"Sunday morning?" Rick leered.
"I told you we didn't do anything.”
"Riiiiiight,” C. Daniel said again.
"Right. So anyway, we went jogging and she's in awesome shape. Absolutely dusted me.”
"So that explains the health food and the extra workouts,” C. Daniel noted.
"You planning on seeing her again soon, is that it?"
"I wish,” Jay said. "I didn't even get her number. She told me her name but I couldn't find her in the phone book. And I'm not about to do one of those wandering around Central Park looking for the beautiful blonde jogger things,” he added, although the thought had crossed his mind every Sunday morning since he'd gotten back from New York City.
"Too bad,” Rick said.
"Yeah it is,” Jay lamented.
“Your problem really shouldn’t be a problem,” C. Daniel said.
“Oh really?” Jay asked.
“Do we want to know?” Rick asked.
“I don’t know. Do you want to know?” C. Daniel queried.
“Okay, school’s done, we’re all out of here, let me know a little bit,” Jay said.
“Well. You know her name, and you know where she lives. Also, you have what sounds like a comprehensive physical description.”
“Yeah how does that help? There’s millions of people in New York, hundreds of millions in the States, billions in the world.”
“Yes to all three factual statements. And, there are three of the best and brightest computer minds standing right here waiting for some drunks to clear the fairway on a golf course where those three best and brightest miraculously get to play for two dollars a round. So, I’ll bet in about three minutes you can figure out how I could find her in about three minutes…”
Jay looked at Rick. Rick looked at Jay.
“You didn’t….”
“Didn’t say I did. Didn’t say I didn’t. Just saying that we’re computer geeks with time on our hands and a certain flair for, how shall I say it, accessing public and not so public records.”
Jay hesitated. Took a practice swing.
"She was a real babe.”
“Sounds like you’re in,” C. Daniel said. He turned and looked at Rick.
“Me too,” Rick added.
“I just want to find out why she couldn't see me.”
"Couldn't or wouldn't?" Rick asked.
"She said ‘couldn’t’, but what's the diff?" Jay said hollowly. "What's the diff?"
“I’m in,” C. Daniel announced.
“Me too,” Jay echoed.
“Where?” Rick asked.
“New York City income tax division,” C. Daniel said.
“New York State Department of Motor Vehicles,” Jay said.
“Let the search begin…”
Fingers flew over keyboards and databases quickly yielded their secrets.
“I’m not finding anything,” C. Daniel said.
“Me neither,” Jay answered.
“Try someone else, make sure the data is real, that they’re not showing you some bogus data, trying to keep you online while they track you down,” Rick counseled.
“Ooh, you’re good,” C. Daniel said.
Jay looked over at Rick with an arched eyebrow inquiry. Rick said nothing.
“Try Dan Landford, L-a-n-d-f-o-r-d. I know he lives right in the city and is currently employed in the city and must be paying taxes there. And, I’ll try Bill Beck, I know he has a driver’s license because he gave me a ride.”
“There are 17 Dan Landford’s in New York City,” C. Daniel said. “And here’s one that works at MacKenzie Lazarus. Wanna know how much he makes?”
“Hell yeah,” Jay and Rick both said.
“Damn!” C. Daniel said under his breath. “You gonna be makin’ that kinda’ moolah Jay?” he asked.
“Not right away, but yeah…”
C. Daniel and Rick high-fived each other. “So I guess when we come to New York City to visit lunch is on you,” C. Daniel said.
“I’ve got Beck,” Jay replied.
“So you know you’ve got live data,” Rick said. “Is there any other way we can try to find her?”
“Sure,” C. Daniel said. “Let’s get Jay here to show us a nice photograph of her, and then we will scan every image we can find on every computer we can find and see who else has a photo of her.”
“One problem C. Daniel. I don’t have a photo of her.”
“I’ll bet you do,” he answered.
Rick and Jay looked at each other, looked at C. Daniel. He smiled. Five minutes later, by using the fine artist renditioning software and database conveniently stored on the Ohio State Patrol server in Columbus, C. Daniel had produced a very passable “photograph” of Tonia Taggert. One that Jay could not tear his eyes from.
“Yeah she’s a looker,” C. Daniel said. “So let’s see who’s been looking!”
The three hackers started numerous queries on numerous machines, some public, some private, and some very very private.
“This could take awhile,” C. Daniel said.
“How long?” Rick asked.
“A long while. Maybe five or six hours. Any hits will be dumped onto our backup server. So we can do something else while we let this run.”
“Reds game?” Jay asked.
“Right on,” Rick answered.
“I’ll drive,” C. Daniel offered. That way you elder statesmen can have an adult beverage if you so choose.
“Thanks C. Daniel.”
Once again, as the computer geeks left the computer science building, cameras clicked and notes were dictated into tiny recorders.
“What do you think they were doing in there?”
; “Don’t know.”
“Want to find out?”
“Why not?”
“You tail them, and then give me a call when they’re more than ten minutes out. And don’t forget to call me if they head back.”
“This isn’t my first field op.”
“And let’s make sure it’s not your last.”
“I’ve got nothing on mine,” Rick reported.
“I’ve got two matches. Both from New York, Long Island to be exact. Both ‘winner’s photos’ from 5k races. That is definitely her.”
“Cool,” Rick said.
“This is odd,” C. Daniel said.
Both Rick and Jay scooted their chairs over to look over C. Daniel’s shoulder.
“What?” they asked.
“Well, my searches should have overlapped Jay’s on the newspaper photographs. And they kinda did. I mean here I’ve got a ‘winner’s photo’ from a 10k in Central Park. But then I don’t have any more matches. I mean I should have had at least the same matches from the Long Island races as Jay.”
“Computers...” Jay said.
“Can’t trust ‘em, can’t kill ‘em,” Rick said. “Well, at least you know you can find her if you stake out the 5ks on Long Island.”
“Looks like I’ll be doing a lot of running,” Jay said.
“Forget the running, just hang out at the winner’s podium,” Rick answered. “Come on, let’s hit it.”
Jay stood. “Come on C. Daniel. Let’s roll.”
“No. You guys go ahead. I’m going to hang out, see if I can figure out why we only got a partial intersection on our queries. It bugs me.
Graduation day broke early and warm. The late spring sun beat down from its perch in the southern sky. Cool mornings and warm afternoons and late day thunderstorms are born from this Midwestern springtime sun. Rick Hewlett and Jay Calloway walked one behind the other to their first row seats at the head of the thousands of students who would be graduating that day. The rest of the doctoral candidates from the other disciplines were positioned up front with them. Jay could see his parents in the second row of families. Mom looked proud and Dad looked a little tight. Maybe he'd had too much to drink the night before or maybe it was the new suit he'd been coerced into wearing. Jay was the first in his family to go to college and he'd gone all the way. His dad had asked him a hundred times why he needed all that college when he could have been working with him in construction for the past eight years. "You could have earned $100,000 by now and you wouldn't have any loans to pay off,” his dad had said several times.
