by Scott Rhine
After escorting her guest to the door, Jez had Tan help her to the car. On the way to the store, she told Benny, “Your PR woman asked a question that got me thinking. The person who originally distributed the pages was racist. I think it was one of us, a human being. If we can track the flow back to that person, he or she can point us to the rest of the pages.”
Benny blinked. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of that before. Babe, you are a certified genius. We can wrap this up in no time if we can locate Active Zero.”
She basked in the compliment, but felt compelled to say, “Elspeth deserves part of the credit.”
“Who’s Elspeth?” asked Tan.
“Elspeth Richards,” she clarified.
“The correspondent for Variety online magazine?”
Jez turned white. “Oh, God. Benny, please don’t hate me.”
****
Neither Benny nor Jez dared read the magazine or engage Fortune’s media machine. “It will just blow over,” he insisted.
That’s what they were hoping for until Claudette mentioned in passing at the afternoon funeral, “Quite a headline they gave you.”
“I don’t want to know,” Jez said, squeezing her eyes shut.
“‘Someone to Take Home to Mom,’” Claudette supplied. She was wearing a veil to help hide her fresh bandages.
“What?”
“And I quote from the exclusive: ‘Being in Jezebel Johnson’s office is like being in the middle of a hurricane. Recovering from a gang assault at an undisclosed location, Jez is as outspoken as she is tenderhearted. Far from being a stereotypical gold digger, Ms. Johnson is helping other victims of the recent tragedy out of her own pocket. Recruited to head a think tank before she even finished college, she takes every problem facing someone she cares about as a personal affront.’ My favorite is, ‘When asked what her biggest worry is, she’s afraid her future mother-in-law won’t like her. Mrs. Hollis, she might blister your ears a bit, but Benny was willing to run into a burning building to save her. We’re glad he did.’ It’s followed by an atrocious picture of you in one of Benny’s shirts, and another taken in Spago.”
“I never told her he saved me from the fire.”
“Relax, it’s Hollywood. A good story is more valuable than the truth.”
“I suppose I’m lucky that with almost two hours of tape, this is all she was interested in.”
“Oh no, hon’, this was just part one of five. When someone gets an exclusive this big, they milk it for weeks. Monday’s installment is about working for Elias. I know because she interviewed me for corroboration.”
“Oh God,” Jez whimpered. Mistaking the cause of her grief, the minister comforted her on the way by.
When she got home, there was a same-day courier envelope waiting from Sedna. Corporate security had stamped it bomb and Anthrax free. While Benny answered a phone call, Jez ripped it open. There was a second, smaller envelope inside with a note reading:
The hurricane with a heart of gold. LOL. You’ve kept your word. I wanted to get you an engagement present. The only thing I had lying around was Sam’s latest acquisition. They never even got a chance to analyze it.
Sedna
Coming back into the foyer, Benny said, “What do you have there?”
“Hopefully, something that will keep my ass from getting fired after Dirt Bag reads Monday’s paper—a new page.”
Chapter 29 – The Family Grows
People rebuilt, adapted, and established new patterns. Daniel waited on Trina every chance he got as she recovered from the surgery and merging.
The Monday exposé on Fortune’s discriminatory hiring habits was brutal, but the hard data Claudette provided showed that the only actionable offense was gender discrimination at the upper executive level. Though deplorable, his hiring percentages for each minority were within tolerances for each of his industries. The entertainment giant actually showed a bias in favor of Asian candidates due to the need for multi-lingual expertise.
To counter the sexism claims, the board appointed Jez as Executive Vice President of Scientific Research. According to her new contract, she was paid primarily in stock options and subject to immediate termination if she knowingly spoke with another reporter about any business topic.
Dr. Weiss added a rider for her health insurance that limited her work to forty hours a week and monitored her blood chemistry every Monday. Though the testing was officially part of her clean-and-sober clause, the doctors were really looking for indicators of what the extended team called “quantum sneaks.” When she became an expert in some obscure area overnight and flooded her underlings with new orders, it generally meant that she had cheated. “Was it Benny, Claudette, or one of my assistants who complained?”
Weiss replied, “None of us wants you to end up with Fortune Syndrome.”
The contract wasn’t strictly fair or legal, but guilt drove her to sign it anyway.
Tuesday, they arrived in Palm Springs. She was able to hobble off the plane on crutches, but couldn’t go very far. Benny was able to remove his slings and drive his mother’s golf cart despite the casts. “Let me soften her up for you first,” he offered.
While mother and son went out golfing on a sunny day, Jez hired two writers whom Benny had recommended for the Stairway to Heaven documentary, and approved a press release for the project. As a courtesy, she texted Elspeth with the updated information before it hit the media outlets so she could include it in her story.
The journalist texted back, “Change in plans. ‘Moral Evolution of Celebrities’ for Friday.”
Jez wrote back, “Plz don’t tell me it’s canceled. BNE excited about photo shoot at Space Mtn.”
“Bigger, better plans. Rolling Stone negotiating for the rights. Cinch if I can get P for cover.”
When Jez went to her computer to get the phone number she needed, her work e-mail was swamped with budget analysis and quarterly projection data. Since this was technically a vacation day, she skipped it.
The only Ladder work Jez did was to delegate the search for Active Zero, the originator of the Golden Tickets—code named Wonka—to Fortune’s New York team. She hoped the revelation would help soothe the sting of the news coverage. She copied London because they would be providing support.
She spent almost an hour, first to reach and then to convince the guitarist to do the cover shoot. She threw in rights to use a video of her magic show and the use of Fortune’s recording studio at a discount. The musician agreed, admitting he would have done the shoot just to get on the cover of Rolling Stone again.
Jez relayed the information to Elspeth and then went shopping for a non-work, non-funeral dress. She wore the bright, new sundress to dinner to meet Rebecca Hollis-Ramsey.
Even at 68, Benny’s mom was an athletic, dark-haired beauty who turned men’s heads. To Jez, she had the severe air of a librarian about to censure someone for talking too loud. Unfortunately, the two women were wearing the same, yellow sundress, making the meal more excruciating. The only positive was that Mom did not allow cell phones at the dinner table. Benny was forced to be attentive.
Jez answered all questions with one-word sentences and nods through the main course. As the waiter cleared the table for dessert, Benny mentioned the Stairway documentary. Jez blurted out the good news about shooting the cover of Rolling Stone with his idol. Before anyone could stop him, Benny whooped, kissed her, and ran back to his hotel room to get his phone.
This left her alone with Rebecca. Jez was like a deer in the headlights, thinking, Maybe if I don’t move, she won’t see me.
“You seem to know what gets boys excited,” Rebecca said deadpan. Jez whimpered a forced laugh. “So, you two have separate rooms. Are you a lesbian or is this all just for PR?”
“Neither, ma’am. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve honored his wishes for celibacy.”
“So, will I have grandchildren?”
Jez smiled at the thought. “My plumbing works and I’m not on birth con
trol, if that’s what you’re asking. The rest I’d have to discuss with your son before committing to anything.”
Rebecca grunted. “Can you cook? Sew?”
“I used to be a good cook, but I multitask too much now and things burn while I’m solving someone else’s problems. I never did learn to sew, but I’ve become surprisingly good at delegating.”
“The press has been calling you everything from a slut to a saint. Which is it?”
“Neither,” Jez said, tiring of the barrage. “But I love Benny. When I promise myself to someone, I keep my promises.”
Rebecca grunted again. “You’ve got sand, just like his father said. Why haven’t you been married before?”
“The easy answer is career, but the truth is that I wanted to get married. I was technically engaged for a long time; even though Chance never got me a ring. He said it would get in the way during the act. He also never wanted to commit to a wedding date.”
“If Benny never gets around to that, would you still have his children?” the older woman demanded.
Her voice tremulous, Jez said, “Yes. I realize that a celebrity’s earning potential drops if he gets married. I wouldn’t ask him to make that sacrifice.”
“What if he screws around?”
Angry, Jez said, “He wouldn’t. He’s had offers—I had one investigated by corporate security, and the other ended up bleeding on the floor of my hotel room.”
Rebecca cackled. “Anything else I should know?”
“I tell the truth compulsively, even when I shouldn’t. But anybody coming after my family ends up running away or wearing a toe tag.”
“I don’t think that poor boy realizes how alike we are. The two of us are going to butt heads constantly,” the mother announced, shaking her head in amusement.
Stunned, Jez realized this was her welcome to the family. “As long as we can establish boundaries, I think that could work. I hear you get most of your updates from Tan. If I get Benny to call you more often, will you agree to give me advice when I need it?”
The older woman smiled and pretended to find the almond custard fascinating as Benny returned. Jez collected her crutches and excused herself from the table. “I’m suddenly exhausted. I’ll let you two spend more quality time together.”
“Rolling Stone,” Benny echoed with a grin.
When Jez was out of earshot, Rebecca said, “The family item you asked about earlier today?”
He snapped back to reality. “Uh, grandma’s ring?”
“Come to my room and I’ll give it to you. Though, you’d better be sure. This one won’t let you back out of your commitments like the last one.”
“Yes, ma’am. What did you think of her?” he asked.
“She has you and your father wrapped around her little finger. You got what you came for. Does it matter what I think?”
He turned his head in the ‘please’ look he had used since childhood. Rebecca sighed, “I know she’ll make you very happy and look out for your best interests. Don’t take her for granted.”
For the first time in almost thirty years, he hugged his mother without being asked.
****
When Benny went up to the room to check on Jez, she was on the phone. Covering the mouthpiece, she explained, “Triniel, not work.” To Trina, she said, “Not everything is a fit for every couple. Try the Adrani posture, that’s designed for smaller women. You’re welcome, goodbye.”
Shaking her head, she said, “Swami Rama gave them a copy of the Kama Sutra, trying to encourage them to read. That was like putting out a fire with oil-soaked rags. They were going at it like bunnies before. Now they have a picture book of poses. I told them to start with the Joy of Sex. It’s more fundamental and has more words.”
“You have the Kama Sutra memorized?” he asked, sitting abruptly.
“Just what works for me,” she clarified in sultry tones.
“Still have insomnia?” he asked.
“Yeah, but Trina had a good suggestion for that,” Jez responded. When he swallowed hard, she confessed, “I’m writing a Primer on my theories about the pages. For example, Collective Unconscious reads are smoothest when there are at least two loving actives to support you. In the ideal scenario, the group bonds, not quite like Triniel, but more like a family unit.”
He nodded. “Mom likes you and invited you to her place for the Memorial Day family reunion.”
They talked until two in the morning, neither wanting to say goodnight. Eventually, he had to sleep but refused to do so in her room. “I promised,” he insisted.
She could tell it took all of his resolve to leave. When he finally closed the door, the look on his face spoke more to her than all the talking that day. She drifted off to sleep, feeling warm and content.
Chapter 30 – The Eye in the Sky
Wednesday at noon, Jez had her first meeting with the Red Giant search team. The crystal-ball controller displayed the stars with amazing clarity, but there were still unexplained adjustments for wobble deep inside the rat’s nest of computer code. Determined to get to the bottom of the puzzle, the five-engineer team showed her all the raw data, explaining the basics of planetary motion and optics.
After the mini-vacation, her schedule was jam-packed. At forty-five minutes into the meeting, she took a guess where they were going and cut to the chase, “And that’s when you discovered that the football-field-sized gadget we’re programming isn’t a telescope.” The engineers were stunned. “It’s just the receiver for the real telescope somewhere in space. That’s what you’re telling me?”
Kyle closed his eyes, ignoring everyone else in the room. The new idea fit the model etched into his brain from the page better than all the documentation he’d read so far.
Jayshree, the female second-in-command from India, stepped in. She was very small and burnished brown. “No. We were just about to lay out the next month of research options. Kyle, help me out here. Tell her it isn’t that simple.”
Kyle opened his eyes to type on his laptop.
“Boss?” Jayshree asked.
“Quiet, he’s onto something,” Jez admonished.
Two minutes later, an orbit appeared on his screen. He flipped it around to show everyone. “The telescope is hiding in the Van Allen belt,” Kyle announced.
“Not possible,” the youngest engineer asserted. He looked about thirty, with wavy hair past his shoulders. His nametag read “Phineas” and had a cutout of a cartoon character beside the name. “It would have shown up on NORAD tracking, even that far out.”
Jayshree pursed her lips and swiveled on the chair. “What if it’s not metal?”
“Pretend this is Star Trek,” Kyle encouraged. “Or your favorite book.”
A heated, four-way argument ensued. After fifteen minutes, they agreed that a gravity lens would explain the excellent quality of the red-giant images projected. “Patently impossible,” insisted Yolen, the balding scientist.
Phineas admitted, “A gravity attenuator that close to Earth’s surface would have all sorts of side-effects when we refocus. And something big would need to be generating the lens.”
Jez, who had been listening with half an ear while texting Crusader and scanning personnel files, said, “Worry about that later. How do you know there aren’t effects unless you look for them?”
Jayshree gasped, “There was a tornado in Missouri just after the group demonstration. What if my moving the telescope lens caused that? Three people died.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions,” Yolen said. “Meteorological or tidal effects have dozens of explanations and take a team of experts to sort through even under controlled circumstances. We would need time on at least two observatories to confirm the existence of this hypothetical, invisible lens. That alone could take weeks.”
Kyle nodded. “We’ll divide up into attack groups to prove or disprove the lens theory.”
Yolen complained, “This is insane. I’m not going to waste a month of my time…”
Kyle whispered, “I thought you said I had control over my own team, autonomy.”
“Yes, but this has nothing to do with his antiquated mindset. He’s not cleared. The rest of your team has just been moved en masse into Fortune Aerospace. Mr. Yolen, please excuse us,” the Research Director said, waiting for the dumbstruck scientist to depart.
Yolen started to muster a threat, but she cut him off. “Every family has secrets.” He turned pale and left.
Kyle muttered, “They’re going to change your name to Field Marshal Butterfly. Blackmail?”
Jez whispered back, “He’s already told his mistress about this project. A leak could be fatal to all of us; it’s in everyone’s best interest.”
Then, she locked eyes with each team member. “Kyle will explain the background, but the concept of super-advanced technology was not just an exercise designed to test you.”
Phineas lit up, “This is so cool. I told you there was more.”
Jayshree hushed him and asked her manager, “Why do we need to be in that particular division of the conglomerate now?”
In hushed tones, Kyle said, “I don’t have anything concrete; however, I would bet my next month’s paycheck that the device not only exists, but is extra-terrestrial in nature.”
Phineas jumped up and shouted, “Yes!”
“But you can’t tell anyone, not yet,” Kyle reminded him.
His face fell. Jez got up from the table. “Cheer up. I have to go talk to my boss about getting grunt monkeys to help you guys.”
Jayshree said, “We prefer to call them interns.”
“Just tell me what specialties you’ll need, and I’ll open requisitions,” Jez said.
Jayshree recited her shopping list, “Meteorology or Chaos Theory, with a solid math background; astronomy, hopefully someone with connections in the community already; and programming, the sort that reads your license plates at the toll booth.”