Then his mind turned to the negative side and he thought of all of the ways this thing would not work. He began to wonder why he ever thought it would. He had been …
“Jim?” asked Penny. “Jim, are you still there?”
“What?” asked Jim, totally lost in his imaginary world of hypothetical outcomes. “Oh,” he said, getting his bearings. “Sorry. Yes, 5:30. That sounds fine. Where is good for you?”
“There’s a nice coffee shop in the Westin Hotel. How about that?”
“Fine by me,” said Jim. “See you then.”
Jim worked through the rest of the afternoon and stayed at the office until 5:15. He then walked several blocks to the hotel under a still perfect sky and took a table in the back of the coffee shop. He sat there and waited for Penny. When she eventually arrived she was not what Jim had been expecting. She was not exactly pretty but nor was she unattractive. She had that somewhat detached look of someone who wears health care “whites” and yet … there was something appealing about her.
Penny looked around the coffee shop and saw Jim looking at her. She smiled at him, walked over to his table and held out her hand.
“Jim?” she asked.
Jim stood up awkwardly and then he realized that he was not as nervous as he had thought he would be. “Hi Penny,” he said, taking her hand. Her hand was warm but dry and she gave a real handshake, not one of those limp ones that he hated. He never trusted the limp handshake. Penny sat down but Jim remained standing.
“Would you like a coffee?” asked Jim, feeling quite confident now that the initial meeting had happened.
“Sure,” said Penny.
Jim flagged down a waitress and then sat down. When the waitress arrived they placed their order. Jim ordered a coffee and a piece of carrot cake and Penny ordered a coffee and a date square. Jim looked at Penny, thinking that she did not look at all nervous and, although he had settled down, he decided he was a little envious at her composure. It seemed to come so naturally. He also thought that she looked somehow familiar. Almost immediately the waitress returned with the coffees. The cakes would be along shortly, she said.
At this point, with two steaming coffees in front of them, Jim found himself without anything to say. He sat there quietly, looking at Penny, smiling stupidly. He took a sip of his coffee trying to think of something, anything to say, when he blurted out the first thought that occurred to him. “So,” he began, “How do you know Cily?” He did not know if this was a good way to start but he was so relieved at having something to say he did not care.
Penny smiled. “I’ve known her since high school,” she said. “And we also went to U of T together.” As she spoke, Jim watched her carefully. She continued, seemingly unconcerned about being on a blind date. Then she threw is question back at him. “So, how do you know Cily?” she asked.
“Through Ben,” said Jim. She looked confused. “Her boyfriend,” he clarified. She nodded. Jim looked at her and decided that she was actually quite cute in a simple sort of way. But he felt the date was deteriorating and it had only just begun. All they had been talking about was Cindy. Jim thought he should turn the attention to Penny.
“So, what do you do?” he asked.
“I’m an ultrasound technician,” said Penny. She used her hands to point to her white uniform. “Ta da!” she said, half singing the words.
“Ah,” said Jim, not knowing what else to say.
“What do you do?” she asked. Again, she threw the question back at him. Jim was not impressed. Perhaps she was part parrot.
“I’m a programmer,” he said.
“Ah,” she said. Jesus, thought Jim. She even throws back the same answers.
They looked at one another. Jim shrugged. Just then the waitress arrived with the cakes and cutlery. Jim looked at his knife, noticing something white on it.
“Excuse me,” said Jim, before the waitress could leave.
“Yes?” she asked.
“My knife seems to have, well, something on it.”
The waitress looked at the knife. “I don’t see anything,” she said.
Jim picked up the knife and held it up for the waitress. “Take a look now,” he said.
The waitress looked at the knife carefully. There was something white baked onto on side of the knife. “Oh,” she said. “That’s just from the dishwasher.”
“But I really don’t want it on my knife,” said Jim as politely as he could. He was doing his best not to make a scene.
“Oh, that’s okay,” said the waitress. She was completely unfazed by Jim’s concern. She then proceeded to wipe the knife on a towel that hung from her waist and returned the newly wiped knife to Jim’s plate.
Jim was aghast. “Hey,” he said, clearly becoming annoyed and raising his voice slightly. “Let’s live a little. Let’s bring in a brand new knife. And let’s even try to introduce a clean one this time.”
The waitress looked at him as if he had just descended from a large saucer-shaped spaceship. “Okay,” she said, raising her hands in defeat. She retrieved the knife and left.
Jim looked back over to Penny and saw that she was just staring at him.
“Wow,” she said. “I didn’t know anyone else did stuff like that.”
“Pardon?” asked Jim.
“Just the other day I was in a restaurant and there was something wrong with my order. I had ordered a baked potato with the sour cream on the side but when the waitress brought my order the sour cream was plastered over the potato.” She looked at him and motioned with her hands, presumably indicating a plastering motion. “The sour cream was everywhere! I was with Cily and Cily told me just to take it but I wouldn’t. I sent it back.”
“That’s what I would have done,” said Jim. “Good for you.”
“I think so,” said Cindy. “But Cily kept talking about it all through dinner.”
“Well,” said Jim, sitting up straight and smiling excitedly. “I have one for you about a McDonald’s drive through.”
Jim and Penny went through four cups of coffee as they each continued to talk about their obstinacy. They also talked about politics, their cynicism, and the lack of consideration of people everywhere, completely losing track of time in the process. Penny looked at her watch.
“Oh my God,” she said. “It’s almost 7:00 and I have Yoga at 7:00.”
“You do yoga?” asked Jim.
“Oh yeah,” said Penny. “I love it. I found out about it from the Rabbi at the local synagogue. Can you believe it? He does yoga too!”
Jim tried to look unsurprised but he was very surprised. He had never thought about dating a Jewish girl but if Ben could date Cindy why could he not date Penny? As they made their way to the front door, with Penny leading the way, Jim tried to make arrangements for the next date.
“I’ll call you,” he said to Penny.
“Great,” she said as she ran out the door on the way to her Yoga class. She was in such a hurry she did not look back.
Jim was whistling as he opened the door to his apartment. The first thing he did was to call his mother.
“Hello?” she said.
“Mom, it’s Jim.”
“Jimmy! It’s so nice to hear from you.”
“Mom, I went on the date,” he said.
His mother needed no reminding. “That’s good news,” she said.
“But she’s not Catholic,” he said.
“Oh?”
“She’s Jewish.”
“That’s okay. You’re a big boy.”
“But I thought you would want me to marry a Catholic girl,” he said.
“I just want you to be happy,” said his mother. “Besides, a Jewish girl would have an easier time with your dietary restrictions.”
After his call to his mother, Jim retreated to his server room to double check his account balances and the transfers for the rest of the week. Once he was done and felt that he had done everything a thought occurred to him. He had been so distracted with Penny he had
forgotten. Now he remembered what he had been putting off since yesterday and it felt like a black cloud had just moved in on him.
He switched to his special program and the White Cell logo appeared at the top of the screen. After entering his password he began to look for the credit card transactions of the man Verde was interested in. It was not difficult to find the information but Jim felt sick about the people he was helping. He also wondered who this man was who had gotten himself into trouble with Verde. Knowing how Verde worked, he felt sorry for the guy. He thought there was probably an interesting story here but he decided it was not in his interest to know any more than he already did. And he would probably be better knowing less.
***
“Yes Madeleine?” asked Mintz, talking into the telephone.
“Mr. Fortuna is calling from CRS,” said Madeleine.
Mintz looked at the clock on his desk. It was exactly 5:00pm. Mintz picked up the call on the outside line. “Yes Stan?” asked Mintz. “What can I do for you?”
“Hello Sheldon,” said Fortuna. “Actually, this call is more about what I can do for you.”
Mintz was excited. Could this be the call? “Go on,” said Mintz.
“You got the contract,” said Fortuna. “Just as you knew you would.”
“Nothing is ever 100%,” said Mintz. “But I do appreciate your efforts, Stan.”
“Just don’t let me down, Sheldon,” said Fortuna. “My reputation is riding on this one. I had to do a lot of arm twisting.”
“Trust me,” said Mintz. “I have more riding on this than you do.”
“Maybe,” said Fortuna.
“When’s the announcement?” asked Mintz.
“Later this week.”
Chapter 16 - The Acceptance
Wed May 12th
Jim arrived at the federal building early enough to have his coffee with Ben. As soon as Ben saw Jim enter the coffee shop he started in on him.
“So how did it go?” Ben asked, referring to Jim’s date Penny.
“Pretty well,” said Jim. “At first I thought I was dead in the water. You know … nothing to talk about. But then we discovered that we had something in common.”
“What was that?” asked Ben.
“We’re both shit disturbers,” said Jim, with a grin. He continued to fill Ben in on his date until they had finished their coffees. They then made their way up to the office. Ben swiped his card through the elevator card reader and they rode up to the tenth floor in silence. As they walked through the main doors of the CCRA office and past the soldier guarding the doorway, a petite and very pretty brunette stood up from one of a row of chairs set beside the soldier.
“Mr. Kincaid?” she asked, walking up to Jim. Jim couldn’t help but stare at her. She was very pretty, perhaps 25 years old, and spoke with a French Canadian accent.
“Yes?” said Jim. He looked over at Ben to see if he knew who she was but Ben gave him a blank stare.
“Hi,” said woman, her accent very slight. “I’m Jeanette Riviere, Mr. MacEwan’s secretary. Mr. MacEwan would like to see you,” she said.
Jim was surprised. Alistair MacEwan was the Assistant Director of CCRA Systems and both Jim’s and Ben’s boss. MacEwan had earned the ire of his colleagues and a reputation among the rest of the staff for hiring almost exclusively English speaking staffers and leaving his employees to do their work with little interference. These work traits violated either federal government policy or civil service protocol or both but no one seemed willing to challenge MacEwan on his approach. Jim had not seen or heard from MacEwan in almost a month. And if MacEwan wanted to see him, why would he not leave a voicemail?
“Really?” asked Jim, incredulous. In the past, whenever he had seen MacEwan, it had only been at general staff meetings and at personnel review time. He had never been summoned to his office.
“Mais oui,” said Jeanette, temporarily falling back into her native language. “Follow me please, Mr. Kincaid,” she said and led Jim out of the office and up to the 11th floor where MacEwan’s office was located.
Once they were upstairs, Jeanette led Jim through an ante room and up to a large metal door. Posted on the door were MacEwan’s name and title. She then opened the door and led Jim into MacEwan’s office. MacEwan, a large man with a deep, booming voice, was looking at something on his computer monitor. The monitor sat in the corner of a very large desk.
“Mr. Kincaid is here, sir,” announced Jeanette.
MacEwan looked up. “Ah, Jim,” he said. Like his secretary, he too had a slight accent but, instead of being French, his was Scottish. “Sit down, Jim. Do sit down.”
Jim sat in one of the two seats in front of MacEwan’s desk. On the desk was a copy of the Globe and Mail and Jim struggled to read the headline upside down. It was another article on the terrorist kidnapping and he could just make out the title: “Terrorists Vow More Trouble”. He looked up from the paper and around the room. It was a typical government office with mostly metal file cabinets and little by way of creature comforts. Jim then looked across the mammoth desk at MacEwan and MacEwan looked back.
“Jim,” began MacEwan. “I’m sure you know that it can’t be good news that had me call you in here like this.”
“No, sir,” said Jim.
“Jim, you’ve always done a good job for us,” he said. “You’re a talented software designer. But somehow, somewhere along the way, we’ve lost you.” He paused for effect. “You are at least two weeks behind on the CCRA Tax Return Web Site prototype and you are usually ahead of schedule.” He looked over at Jim, waiting for a response but, when Jim said nothing, he continued. “Jim, I’m getting a lot of pressure to get this web site up and running and you’re holding it up.” The big man leaned back in its chair and the chair creaked under the strain. He rubbed his eyes with his finger tips and then sat up. “What’s going on Jim?” asked MacEwan, now leaning forward in his chair and looking directly at Jim.
At this point Jim was thankful that he already had another job lined up. He thought about whether or not to tell MacEwan that he would be leaving CCRA but then thought better of it. He only had a telephone offer from NAT and, without something more concrete, Jim felt he should not rock the boat he was in. Yet.
“I’m sorry, sir,” said Jim. He thought carefully about what to say and decided to plead technicalities. MacEwan was a politician and Jim had seen his colleagues easily confuse the man with gobbledegook. “It’s just that I’ve been having problems getting the application server to authenticate to the database. I can get it to work without encryption but you had said that security was paramount in the project.”
MacEwan again leaned back in his chair. “Quite right,” he said, nodding. “We can not compromise security. And you say that it is a security problem?”
“In a way,” said Jim. “And these security issues have been holding me up a little.”
“Do you need help?” asked MacEwan. “Damn it Jim, we have to get over this hurdle. I can get a security expert from DND to come help out. My God, if you need him he can be here tomorrow!”
Jim smiled, but only to himself. If only MacEwan knew how much he knew about security, encryption, authentication and the like. If only MacEwan knew that Jim was White Cell, he would never make such a preposterous suggestion. “I just need another couple days, sir,” said Jim. “I’m almost over this hurdle.”
“Good,” said MacEwan. “You can’t believe the pressure I’m getting on this one.”
“I can imagine,” said Jim and he really could. But he also knew that every government project he had ever seen could have been up and running in a tenth of the time if bureaucrats like MacEwan were taken out of the loop. “I’ll put a real push on it,” said Jim.
“Excellent,” said MacEwan, his booming voice vibrating with his excitement. “Excellent.” And he slapped Jim on the back as he walked out the door.
Once back at his desk, Jim looked around carefully before retrieving his briefcase. There were still man
y packets of money to deposit and Jim was really getting nervous about holding onto all this cash. He removed all of the remaining money and hid the empty briefcase under his desk. He then headed off to the banks to deposit the money. He would still make the individual deposits as he planned but he would make them all today.
***
Cindy joined Jim and Ben for lunch. Jim filled them in on his meeting with MacEwan.
“Did you get called upstairs too?” Jim asked Ben.
“Nope,” said Ben. “But then again I haven’t been goofing off like you.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jim.
“Whenever I go looking for you these days you’re not at your desk. Where are you going? I mean, it’s no wonder you’re not getting your work done.”
“I don’t know,” Jim lied. “Maybe I’m just off at the bathroom,” he suggested.
“I’ve noticed the same thing,” Cindy chipped in.
Jim ignored her. “So what are you going to do about the NAT offer?” Ben asked Jim. “I assume you’re going to take it.”
“I don’t have much choice,” said Jim. “Especially now that I’ve got MacEwan on my back. How about you two?”
“We’re both going to go to NAT too,” said Ben. Cindy nodded in agreement. “We think it’s time for a change.”
“And we’re tired of working for the government,” said Cindy.
***
When Jim returned from lunch he rifled through the papers on his desk looking for a telephone number. When he finally found it written on a small scrap of paper, he picked up the phone and dialled it. An automated system answered the phone and Jim entered the extension number written on the piece of paper.
“Peter Lee,” said the voice at the other end of the line.
White Cell Page 18