Seer

by Robin Roseau

  “Sure.”

  “Felix, you too.”

  “Sure,” he said. “Sidney, do you mind if I ask some questions?”

  “Go ahead,” I said.

  “Why did you ask about HIPAA?”

  I let Aubree talk about salesmen who make up answers when they don’t know the truth. Felix asked several more questions. Aubree and I took turns answering them.

  “Aubree, I think Felix should be disgruntled about being here, and cozy up to the programmers instead.”

  “We’ll talk to Solange about that at dinner,” she replied immediately.

  “I’m not disgruntled,” Felix said. “I love my job!”

  Aubree explained to him. “Sidney thinks the guys will confide in you long before they’ll confide in her. She wants you to be a spy. Could you do it?”

  “Oh,” he said. “Sure. I guess.”

  “It would have to be subtle,” Aubree said. “You can’t make it sound like MetaWolf is tough to work for. We don’t want them all jumping ship if the sale goes through. And if you over-sell it, they’ll get suspicious.” She paused. “We have to talk to Solange about this.”

  “It’s just an idea.” I paused. “Other than that, Felix, I want you to concentrate on the front end. Have you played with AngularJS?”

  “Yeah. It’s pretty cool.” He started talking about it, but I cut him off. “Right, sorry,” he said. “But Sidney, do we really care about the front end? The web site was pretty slick, but in the end, isn’t all the work being done on the server?”

  “Yeah. I think you’re going to find a very well-written user interface, but I want your impressions, and I don’t want to be distracted thinking about it. Once I start digging into the server software, I’ll probably redirect you, but it might not be until next week.”

  “Sure, Sidney. Whatever you want.”

  * * * *

  Tuesday morning, I got Felix set up with one of the web developers and told him to see Aubree or me if he had issues. After that, Aubree and I began interviewing the staff.

  A couple of the guys were excited. They’d looked into MetaWolf and liked the idea of working for them. Most of the guys didn’t seem to care one way or the other, and the only thing that seemed to be important to them was that they’d still have jobs. Kent Schmitt and Brody were both antagonistic during the interviews. Kent probably assumed he’d be losing his job, and I presumed he didn’t have enough equity in the company to make up for it. I wasn’t sure what Brody’s problem was.

  Most of the guys were a little dismissive of my technical skills, which I had long grown to expect. It’s a male-dominated industry, and a lot of men I encounter tend to discount me. Oh, generally speaking, most guys are great, especially once they get to know me. And a dismissive attitude isn’t always about my gender. The industry is filled with some pretty big egos, and those egos can be dismissive of almost anyone new, at least until that person proves himself. I wasn’t worried about that. I wouldn’t be working with them, anyway, unless Ed hired me for more consulting.

  Shortly before lunch, I told Kent, “I want to begin reviewing the software tonight. I want a copy on my laptop before I leave tonight.” He immediately relayed that question to John. And then I said, “And I want to be able to compile and run it.”

  “Impossible,” John immediately said.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

  “It typically takes a couple of days to get a new developer box configured to build and run the software.”

  “Is there licensing involved?” I asked.

  “No. Everything we use is open source. There’s just a lot.”

  “But it runs on a laptop?”

  “Sure,” he said. “I take mine when I go on vacation, just in case.”

  “I see.” I turned to Aubree. “I want to speak to Solange before we make lunch plans.”

  * * * *

  I explained the problem and my solution. “It’s two thousand dollars, and I’m not paying for it,” I said.

  “Aubree, take her into Salt Lake City and buy whatever she needs.”

  And so Aubree and I found the Best Buy and bought the best Mac laptop they had. Then we went to lunch. When we returned, I found John, handed him the laptop, and said, “Have someone set this up and clone his existing machine. It won’t take long to get started, and then he can ignore it until it’s done. As long as you’re on a wired network, it should only take a few hours to copy everything. You can show me later what I need to compile and run your software.”

  He stared at the computer. “Shit,” he said. He looked up at me. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Will it work?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Also make sure I can attach to your VPN and your source repository.”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks.”

  We spent the rest of the afternoon on interviews. It was six before we were done, and I found John. I saw my laptop set up on his desk.

  “It’s not done,” he said.

  “That’s fine,” I said. “It will be done by morning. You can show me everything then.”

  * * * *

  “You look exhausted,” Solange observed in the hotel lobby a half hour later.

  “My neck is killing me,” I said, “and I have a killer headache.”

  She turned to Aubree. “Make reservations for an hour from now. Come to my room when it’s time to leave.”

  “Four of us?”

  Solange glanced at Felix. “Do we need him tonight, Sidney?”

  “No, probably not for another day or two.”

  “Just three, Aubree.” Then Solange stepped forward and took my laptop from me. “You will come with me.”

  I followed obediently. She led me to her room, holding my computer hostage against my good behavior. The thought made me snicker.

  “Something funny?” She unlocked the door.

  I pointed to my computer. “Is that a hostage?”

  She laughed. “Yes. Go.” She pointed into her room, and I stepped past her. She closed the door, kicked off her shoes, and set my laptop down. “Take your shoes off.” I left mine next to hers then turned to her.

  “You may be the most important person on this trip.”

  I thought that was unlikely, but I wasn’t going to argue with her.

  “I need you in top condition.”

  “Solange, I’m sorry.”

  “Hush,” she said. “I’m not chastising you. I’m telling you why you’re not going to resist when I tell you the next part.”

  She had my attention. “All right.”

  “Take your jacket off. Then I want you face down on the bed. Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to take care of the knots in your neck.”

  “You’re going to give me a massage?”

  “Yes. Unless you really, really hate the idea.”

  I looked her in the eye for a good fifteen seconds then shrugged and made my way to the bed, shrugging out of my suit jacket on the way. I pulled one of the pillows out then made myself as comfortable as I could. Solange moved over to the side of the bed, sitting next to me, and a moment later, I felt her hands on my shoulders.

  Her hands were magical, and I closed my eyes, nearly moaning in bliss.

  “Oh god,” I said. “There. Oh…”

  She worked on my neck and shoulders for a few minutes before she leaned over and said, “Do you mind if I’m a lot more forward? I don’t want a sexual harassment lawsuit.”

  “It’s not sex,” I said. “It’s a massage. And you can do whatever you want. Just don’t stop.”

  “Sidney, are you sure?”

  I opened an eye and rolled enough I could look up at her. “Are you about to get me naked?”

  “A little.”

  “Huh,” I said. “And you a lawyer and all that. You should know better.” I smiled at her. “You can get me as naked as you want, but you have to massage whatever you expose.”

  She laughed then pointedly closed her eyes.
“Unbutton your blouse then lie on your stomach again.”

  I didn’t even question. I did what she said, then said, “Ready.”

  A moment later, I felt her hands tugging at my blouse. She pulled it out of my skirt, but didn’t try to take it off my shoulders. She reached under the blouse and undie the clasp of my bra, spreading it away from the center of my back. Then she went back to massaging my back, paying attention to the large muscles in the lower back, then she was at my neck and skull.

  Everything felt amazing, and this time, I did moan with the pleasure.

  “I’ve never done this before,” she said.

  “Liar,” I said into the pillow.

  “I mean to someone I was working with.”

  “That part is unique for me as well. Oh god, Solange, you’re good at this.”

  She worked for a half hour, turning me into a limp pile of Jell-O there on her bed. Finally she leaned over and whispered, “I’m sorry, Sidney. I’d keep going, but we’ll be late for dinner. If you want, I can step into the hallway while you reassemble yourself.”

  “It’s just us girls,” I said. I sat up slowly, and I knew I flashed her while I did it, but it had been her idea, and if she didn’t like looking, she could close her eyes again. I sat there numbly. “God, you’re good.”

  “How’s your headache?”

  “Gone. Thank you.”

  I fixed my clothing before turning to her. She was watching me with a small smile. “I can’t believe you did that,” I said, “but it was amazing. Thank you.”

  “I’m a little surprised myself,” she said. “I’d rather we kept it between us.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Me, too.” I stepped past her to her bathroom to check my appearance once more, and when I got out, Aubree was there.

  * * * *

  Wednesday, John had the laptop for me. He showed me how to make the software run.

  I spent the morning going through the code. It was complicated, and there was little documentation. This isn’t unusual amongst startup companies, but it’s frustrating and, in my opinion, unprofessional.

  In the afternoon, I asked for another tour of the data center. I then asked what each machine was for.

  “All right,” I said. “I want administrator access on each of these machines.”

  No one wanted to give it to me.

  I turned to Aubree and said one word. “Unconditional.” She nodded.

  “It’s nice out. Go enjoy the mountain air. I’ll come get you.”

  It was a half hour later before I felt Aubree and Solange step up beside me as I stood in the yard outside the office building, looking up at the mountains.

  “Did I cause a stir?”

  “Oh yes,” said Solange.

  “Did I get what I asked for?”

  “Yes,” she said. “What do you need it for?”

  I turned to her. “I have seven removable hard drives. I’m going to capture the contents of each machine. Then I can review them at leisure later. I don’t know what I might need, but if they catch me grabbing files from one machine, they might try to scrub the others.”

  She frowned. “I thought you didn’t like thinking like that.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Damn it.”

  “Look. The tech works. It’s amazingly impressive, actually. I understand why Ed wants it. But they’re hiding something, and it’s not that their salesman lies during sales presentations.” I paused. “I want to see the books.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that.”

  “I want to see the sales figures.”

  She thought about it. “Okay. Sure.”

  “Quietly. In fact, I’m going to ask to see them, and I want you to turn me down. Should we argue?”

  “Very briefly. Drop it when I turn stern.”

  I nodded.

  She looked at me for another minute. “Damn it.”

  “Yeah.”

  * * * *

  Early Thursday morning, I had a dream, a real dream. In the dream, I was sitting at a computer. There was a can of Coke sitting near the monitor, and the work area was a little cluttered. I reached for the can, and my arm was hairy.

  I knew immediately it was a real dream, and I knew it wasn’t me. In the dream, I was a man.

  I was coding, and in the course of fifteen minutes, I knocked out two more features for the software. In my dream eyes, at least, the code was clean and elegant.

  There was a knock at my office door. I didn’t even turn around. “Go away,” I growled. “I’m busy.”

  “Travis,” said a voice I recognized. It was Monty Stanton, the company president. “Got a few minutes? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  I turned around, and Monty was standing in the doorway.

  “I’m under a deadline,” I said. “Does this have to be now?”

  “If you’d share more of the work with Brody, maybe you wouldn’t be under such a tight deadline,” Monty replied. “Yes, it has to be now.” Monty stepped into my office and closed the door. He sat down. “We have updated sales figures.” He slipped a sheet of paper. I glanced at them then narrowed my eyes at Monty. “You’re going to get caught.”

  “No, we’re not,” he said. “Look, I’m under pressure from the investors-”

  And the dream ended with the buzzing of the alarm clock.

  I sat bolt upright. “God damn it,” I said. “Just when it was getting good.”

  I hopped in the shower then pulled on a robe and grabbed my computer. I was still digging through the log files I’d taken from the servers yesterday when my phone rang. I glanced at it and swore before answering.

  “We’re in the lobby,” said Solange. “Are you coming?”

  “Um. I think we have a problem. I need a few hours to be sure.”

  “How big a problem?”

  “Big.”

  She sighed. “I’m coming up. Should I bring anyone else?”

  “No.”

  I quickly through on some clothes and ran a brush through my hair, and then there was a knock. I opened it and Solange stepped in. She took one look at me then stepped past me. I closed the door and followed her into the room.

  She turned to face me and raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down.

  “I know. I was still in the robe when you called. I woke up and realized something was fishy. I’ve been chasing it since.”

  “Fishy how?”

  “I think they’re faking their sales data.”

  “We have their books. They show the revenue. It matches the bank statements, and we’ve been to the bank.”

  “Uh huh,” I said. “They show a dramatic improvement in sales six months ago.”

  “Right.”

  “They didn’t grow their sales team, but suddenly sales shot up.”

  “It’s a few big customers. They’ve been working them for a while.”

  “Uh huh. Their revenue has increased threefold in the last six months, but you know what’s funny?”

  “Oh?”

  “Their web traffic has only increased by ten percent. Why are they getting three times the revenue but only a minor growth in use of their product?”

  She stared at me. “Fuck!” She screamed. “God damn it!”

  “Solange,” I said, “that’s not the worst. You could use that to drive the price to nothing, especially with what I’m going to tell you next.”

  “Oh just… Fuck. What?”

  I smiled.

  “What?” she asked. “This isn’t a smiling moment.”

  “I wondered what it would take to break that cool exterior of yours.” I paused. “Sorry. Um. So, they’ve got a development team of six, right? John manages the team. He’s got four guys doing that gorgeous user interface, and Brody works on the back end. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “What’s more important? A pretty user interface, or the technology that we actually care about?”

  Solange stared at me. “I’m not going to
like this, am I?”

  “Brody has a hard time answering questions how the software works.”

  I let her think about it.

  “I think we need to know who someone named Travis is.”

  She stared for a good five seconds longer before letting out a stream of profanity.

  “Whoa, sailor,” I said.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  “Not at all.”

  She turned away and walked to stair out the window. “How sure are you?”

  “90 percent.”

  “How long until you’re one hundred percent?”

  “I’m running a lookup on all the addresses that appear in their logs. On the hotel internet, it’s taking time. It would be faster at their offices, but I don’t want them to see the traffic. I don’t know if it will be proof or not. The addresses are typically assigned to an internet provider, not the company that is actually using them. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah. But you’re sure about the amount of traffic?”

  “Yes, unless they have servers they’re hiding from us.”

  “You think they funneled money to these companies to turn around and pay it back, creating a false paper trail.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Good luck proving it.”

  “And this Travis guy?”

  “He shows up in a few comments deep in the code.” That was actually a lie. I got his name from the dream. “Solange, I need to dig through their source change history to be sure. I bet Brody shows up a little more than six months ago. I bet nearly everything before that is Travis, maybe just some initials starting with T. But I bet you can look at past payroll. Or we could just get the right people in a room and without any warning ask them, ‘Who is Travis?’ “

  “What are the implications?”

  “Solange, the tech is amazing. It works. But Brody doesn’t understand it. It’s well-written but damned hard to understand. It’s going to take someone years before they’re going to understand it.” I paused. “Let me refine that. It’s going to take one of the best programmers you can find years to understand it. This Travis guy is brilliant and has an ego to match.”

  “Could you learn it?”

  “Yeah, probably, but there are better people at this kind of thing than I am. I’m more general purpose than this. I don’t want that job, Solange. Find someone else.”