“Sure,” Frederick said. “We should be able to wrap everything up tomorrow. I’ll email you the final questions. It’ll be a listing of things we need to fill in from everything else we’ve talked about. And I insist I pay for the cleaning of those pants. Actually, I’ll buy you a new pair. Mustard never really comes out, you know.”
“No worries,” Andre said. “Just the hazards of bowling. It’s a rough sport, you know.”
Back at his room, Frederick sat at the desk with his laptop sending the email with questions to Andre. He was thinking. Plan A hadn’t worked. Plan B had to be foolproof. Tomorrow was Friday. He had to pull it off tomorrow or it would look suspicious.
He knew what he needed to do. It would be a bit drastic, but it should work well enough for the short term. For the long term Andre would be too busy defending himself to try and find Frederick. He may get law enforcement after him, but they’d be more focused on Andre if everything worked right. Besides, Frederick was used to disappearing, and this time he’d planned more carefully than ever before.
Chapter 11
Andre sat at his desk, holding the list of questions. It was just as Frederick had said, addressing various things to wrap it up. Truth be told, Andre was glad this was over. He was tired of not saying anything to Krissy. The sooner this was done and Frederick could make the big presentation, the better.
Promptly at 11:00, Frederick came in same as always, two coffees, his satchel and flamboyant style. He wore a dark blue pin striped suit, pale green shirt, yellow bow tie. Hardly a dress down Friday. Andre smiled.
Frederick sat and dived right in. “I actually enjoyed bowling yesterday, and the videos I got will be great for the project. I have enough from our conversation that I dictated that chapter last night. It will seem like it’s in your own words. You can proof it and make any adjustments you want from the draft. It’s a good angle; bowling as part of the creative process. You may single handedly increase bowling revenues across the globe.”
Andre laughed.
“Okay, let’s get started,” Frederick said, pushing ‘record’ on the micro recorder he’d set on the desk. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover. We’re just about done. You ready?"
Andre nodded. And off they went.
Lunch came and went and they worked through. The questions were rapid fire and filled in what they’d covered before. Mostly clarifications. In some Frederick delved deeper.
"Great!" he would say. Then shoot off with the next question, or a follow up question.
1:00pm came quickly. Frederick frowned. "We're so close. I have just a few more questions I have to get the answers for, but I need to organize myself a bit so we’re not talking in circles and I leave something critical out. How about we have a celebratory dinner to finish up?
Andre, his head spinning from the dizzying pace of questions took a moment to consider. Then he remembered his schedule tonight.
"Sorry, I can't make it. Allie has another piano recital tonight."
"Oh, that's too bad. We're so close. I guess I could stay the weekend and then we can wrap up on Monday. It'll only take about an hour. Less than an hour actually. "You sure you can't spend just an hour?"
Andre thought a moment. What if he just continued right now? He remembered he'd scheduled meetings until 4:00 today. It would be good to have this wrapped up. It would only be an hour. He looked at Frederick.
"Well . . . if we go early I can make the recital. I'll call Krissy and let her know I have to work a bit late and will meet her and Allie there. There're just a few things I need to get done here and then I can meet you right at 5:00."
"Great! Let's meet at the hotel coffee shop. It's not fancy for a celebratory dinner, but it's convenient, quick and quiet; everything we need to wrap things up."
Before Andre could say anything else, Frederick put the micro recorder and the list of questions and notes into his satchel and stood. See you at 5:00 sharp. I’ll have everything perfectly organized so we won’t waste a second. You’ll be on your way to the recital with time to spare.”
Chapter 12
Andre arrived at the hotel coffee shop. He'd finished his work and called Krissy. He felt guilty that he’d only told Krissy he had to work a bit late and would meet her at the recital. He'd grab something to eat before he got there. It was all true, but not entirely. It’s what he was leaving out.
He'd been grateful Krissy hadn't asked him anything about 'working late.' She was tied up in her own preparations, and it wasn't the first time he'd had to do this very thing. So why did he feel guilty? There was nothing to it. Well, it was almost over. He'd get through this, go to the recital and life would get back to normal.
He stood at the coffee shop entry and noticed Frederick standing, waiving to him from a far corner of the restaurant. It was secluded and quiet.
"Hope you don't mind. I ordered coffee and a salad for you. I wanted to make sure we don't have to wait on service. I also told the waiter I was doing an interview so not to disturb us. The bill is being put on my room so all we have to do is wrap up then you can be on your way to the recital."
Andre was impressed and relieved. Frederick had dressed down again, this time a white button down oxford shirt, black slacks and loafers. A little non-descript for him.
This was going to work out okay. Frederick was going to get him to the recital on time. Andre took a sip of his coffee and picked up a fork.
"I'm ready to go," he said.
The interview proceeded. Frederick asked the questions and left his salad and coffee untouched. He was intent on Andre. The questions were organized and straight forward and just as he said: follow ups and delving, but not inappropriately so. Andre continued to eat, sip his coffee and answer questions.
About twenty minutes into the interview, Andre started to feel a dull headache coming on. He tried to ignore it but it grew until it couldn't be ignored and he was starting to sweat. He'd never really had migraines but he knew enough this was going to be a doozy.
"You okay?" Frederick paused. A look of concern crossed his face. Andre's eyesight was starting to get blurry and he was beginning to feel sick to his stomach.
"I'm getting a migraine," Andre said.
"Do you get them often? Do you have some medicine?"
Andre shook his head. He was finding it hard to talk through the now piercing pain.
"Look, I get them occasionally when I travel. I've got some real potent medication in my room. Let's get you up there. You can take some and lie down. It'll fix you up in a hurry. "
Andre felt Frederick’s hands grasp his arm and help him to his feet. He held on to him as he led him out of the coffee shop. His eyesight was even more blurry and the pain was so intense he couldn't concentrate. He followed not caring where he went.
Frederick let them into his room. He guided Andre over to the bed and he gratefully lay back, closing his eyes. It brought some relief but not much. Andre had never experienced this type of migraine before. He absently wondered if he had a brain tumor. Then he wondered at his musing. It was interesting what the mind thought about when it was under duress. He made a mental note to study that sometime. He chuckled to himself and then the pain lanced again, making him grimace.
"Here, take these." Frederick handed him two tablets and glass of water. Andre took them and laid back. He felt a cold washcloth go across his brow. "Relax and the pills will take affect soon."
Andre did. After a little while the pain did ease, and Andre felt his body start to relax.
"I can see it's starting to work," Frederick said from nearby.
Andre could only nod his head as he continued to relax and the pain continued to fade. It was such a relief! Then he realized his relaxing was going further than it should. He found he couldn't move his arms, couldn't move his head, and found he didn't care. His mind started to get fuzzy. The pain was leaving, but so was consciousness. He fought to hold on, to stay awake. Everything faded to black . . .
Chapter 13
Andre started awake! Where was he? He was groggy and his tongue felt dry and scratchy. His phone was buzzing in his pocket. That's what must have awakened him. He stared around, getting his bearings. Then it hit him. Frederick’s room! He must have blacked out. He looked around with bleary eyes. Everything was dark. It must be late.
Late! Andre remembered the recital and a panic seized him. He fumbled for his phone. The buzzing had stopped but he touched it on. Several texts had come in from Krissy, then Allie. And he saw the time. 10:30pm! How was he going to explain this?
"Frederick?" he called. Why hadn't he awakened him? He sat up. His head spun and he had to sit a moment before he could move again. He found the bedside lamp and turned it on. He looked around the room. Frederick wasn't there. Where did he go? Then he noticed a note on the night stand. He picked it up and read:
"Sorry about your headache. I thought it best to let you sleep it off. You seemed to be okay, so I checked out and am catching a midnight flight back home. We got the interviews pretty well completed. It should take about 3 weeks to get everything ready for the preview. I'll be sending over the manuscript for your review as soon as the transcription and rough editing are done. It's been a real pleasure! Krissy and Allie are lucky gals!" He signed the note with a flaring swirl.
Andre rubbed his eyes. He remembered the string of texts. He got his phone and started reading. They started out from Krissy: "Where are you?" and then they progressed to being more urgent. "You'll be late!" “Are you okay?” And finally, the last text was from Allie. "Daddy you missed it. I messed up because you weren't here! I was so worried! You're being stupid!" That was the last text that had come in and awakened him.
He got to his feet, staggered a bit while the room swirled then he felt in his pocket for his car keys. His heart seized. The locket! Could Frederick have taken the hidden thumb drive?
Relief flooded him. The keychain was there seemingly undisturbed. Everything would be fine. Surely Frederick hadn't done anything with it while he was out. Besides, it was encrypted. Still it had been in his pocket, and he'd been helpless.
Now about Krissy. What would he tell her? And Allie? He would tell them he'd been working and gotten a severe migraine, taken some medicine and blacked out. It was all true; except he wouldn't be telling who he was with or why. On top of everything else that wouldn't go over well at all. Krissy would have called his office, but it would have been closed at the time. Andre had a cot in his office for resting. He often had worked late into the night, so that would mesh too.
Andre got home to a frantic reception. Krissy was beside herself with worry, concerned he'd been in an accident, or based on their previous discussion, kidnapped! She had started working up their personal security but it wasn’t in place yet. She’d been blaming herself for not working faster. She'd been about to call the police. She wasn't angry until she learned he was all right. Then things got frosty.
He could only apologize so much. And he meant it. Krissy felt bad he'd missed the recital and broken the promise after all these years. He'd have to make it up to her and Allie.
Krissy told him Allie had been even more worried than her. When Andre hadn't shown up she was in a near panic, sure something bad had happened. It had affected her performance to the point she'd done badly. Krissy finally had given her a sleeping pill to help her calm down then put her to bed. That explained the angry text that had awakened him. It was her worry coming through. And yes, he had to admit. He had been stupid.
The next morning, Krissy was a bit better, though quiet. Allie was so glad to see her dad she started crying with relief. It broke his heart. What had he done? Never again would he be so distracted from what was most important . . . his two girls. He decided then to take the day off and spend it with them. That helped a bit though it would take some time to mend this fence, he realized.
Chapter 14
It took a month for the other shoe to drop. It started with Bob Roberts, Chairman of the Board of their company coming into his office unannounced and slapping a newspaper down on Andre's desk. "You seen this?" he asked without any preamble.
Andre looked at the paper. "What?" Andre asked then saw the headline, "ohhh!"
It read: "Technodyne Cracks the Code." He scanned the first paragraph. "In a surprise announcement Technodyne, the world's third largest computer chip manufacturer said they, too, had cracked the code of what has come to be known as "Instant Processing," a breakthrough first achieved three years ago by renowned researcher Andre Manus."
"You know anything about this?" Roberts asked.
"No, of course not. I'm as surprised as you!" Andre replied.
"It sounds suspiciously like your process and how you describe it. Are you sure they couldn't have gotten it from you?"
"I'm sure!" Andre said, a pit opened up in his stomach.
"I'm told you had a man in here doing an autobiography. Did you tell him about your process? Did you tell him things you haven't even revealed to us? And why am I only finding out about this now?"
Andre hesitated. "Bob, I was going to tell you when we had the preview put together. It’s a different enough project we wanted a prototype to show before we brought it to the board for approval. Nothing ever went beyond me and Frederick Bombast. So nothing has gone out without board approval. I haven't violated our agreement, and I have his guarantee of complete veto approval.”
Andre winced inside. His explanation sounded a bit lame even to himself when he said it out loud.
“And how do you control this ‘information’ you’ve given that you can ‘veto?’”
“Bob, I checked the guy out. He’s a top biographer and trustworthy. He’s done a number of great projects on business leaders, but this one is going to be different. It’s going to be interactive, it’s going to have video clips and such. But I can assure you, I didn’t reveal a thing!” Even as he said it, Andre’s mind went back to the hotel room where he’d blacked out and woken to find himself alone in the dark.
"So you're telling me they just figured it out on their own?"
Andre was silent, thinking. "I don't think so. They must have come up with a different process. That's all I can think of. My process is unusual. It's unlikely they'd just stumble upon it. But since the basic principle is out there they may have discovered a different way to access Space-Time.
"Besides, we're still three years ahead of them. We have more applications ready, and we're in the market. It would be hard for them to catch up under any circumstances. We knew it would only be a matter of time before we had competition."
"I knew we should have applied for patents," Roberts said, rubbing his forehead in irritation. "I don't know why we let you talk us out of it."
"Because with a patent application you have to reveal your process in order to protect it. And then your competitors have open access to see it. All they have to do is change it enough to avoid the patent infringement and then do their own thing. It's happened too many times with other technology."
"So you say," Roberts said. "But our competitive advantage has just eroded. We were planning on at least another 2 year's monopoly."
"They've yet to prove it works," Andre said, hopeful.
"Oh they've proven it alright," Bob said. "It's in the article. I'll let you finish reading it." He turned to leave clearly not mollified. "By the way," he turned back to Andre. "I'm going to be conducting my own investigation into our security. You sure there isn't anything you want to tell me now?"
"Bob! You know me. We've worked together on this every step of the way. How can you even think that?"
"Because you haven't shared it with me or anyone else in this company. We pay a ridiculous amount in life insurance on you because you're the only one with the secret sauce. The only reason we allowed it is because you wouldn't play ball any other way. Makes me wonder if you've got other deals going?"
"You know I don't! I wouldn't do that!"
"We'll see," Bob said, and left his office.
Andre sat, staring at the open door. His mind raced. He needed to get in touch with Frederick. He'd not heard from him except for a brief email exchange shortly after Frederick had left. Frederick had told him he was working on the preview and to expect something in about three weeks. Well, the three weeks were up a week ago. He was starting to have a bad feeling about this.
Andre started to sweat as he turned to his computer. Something told him, this time to go with the main switchboard of Frederick's company, just to make sure. Images of waking up alone in a hotel room, grasping for his keychain and being relieved it was still there swam into his mind. That was the only time anyone could have accessed his notes on the thumb drive. And it was impossible to consider someone had found his backup.
Frederick couldn't have been the one, could he?
He got on the internet and got the number for Gruber & Associates and dialed it. A receptionist answered. He asked for Frederick Bombast. "Just a moment, sir and I'll connect you." Andre was starting to feel some relief. This would all be cleared up soon . . . at least his part of it.
"Hello, Frederick speaking," the voice came on. It was different. Andre felt his chest constrict and he couldn't breathe. "Hello? Is someone there?"
Andre coughed. "Hello, is this Frederick Bombast?"
"Yes. Who's this?"
"I'm Andre Manus with Manus Industries. You sound a bit different." Andre felt stupid saying that, but didn't know what else to say.
"I'm sorry?" the voice on the other end of the line said. There was no exuberance, no flair or enthusiasm. Andre was starting to panic.
"Are you the same Frederick Bombast who came out to my office about four weeks ago to do my autobiography?"
"I'm sorry Mr. Manus, but I don't know what you're talking about."
Message From Tomorrow Page 4