Tropical Storm - DK1 Page 4

  “Hello, Maria.”

  “Dar, where are you?” her secretary answered in a lowered voice.

  “In my car, on the way back from Associated. Why?” the executive replied, a touch puzzled. “You knew where I was.”

  “Stay away. Stay far, far away. ¡ Dios mío! A man, he backed a truck into the facilities room downstairs, and took out all the controls for the air conditioning,” Maria replied with a groan. “It must be like an oven in here, Dar. My head is roasting.”

  The executive winced. “Oh boy.” She considered. “Did they down the servers, at least?” she asked, then she slapped herself on the head. “What am I thinking? Maria, get out of there before you pass out.”

  “Ay, I have my little fan, but it is like I am cooking…turning crispy,” the secretary told her. “Thank you very much. I will pack up my things and be on my way.”

  “Any ETA for restore?” Dar asked with a sigh, as she got off onto State Road 836, which would take her cross-town to the office. “You should have called me.”

  “No, no. They’re arguing who is to blame; that is first.” Maria sounded disgusted, unusual for the Spanish woman.

  “All right. Call in first tomorrow, Maria. I don’t want you coming in if it’s still out, it’ll only get worse,” Dar decided as she rubbed her temples. “Get out of there.”

  “I don’t care what anyone says, Dar, you are an angel,” Maria replied warmly. “They can all kiss my…how you call them? Grits.”

  That got a smile from the executive. “Thanks, Maria. Nice to hear that after getting out of Associated. They don’t much like me right now.” Her mind conjured up the parting look she’d gotten from Kerry, which had been as full of disgust as any she’d had the misfortune of getting in a while. Normally, she could have cared less, but that kid… “Anyway, good night, Maria.”

  “Good night, Dar. Drive carefully, please,” the secretary reminded her.

  “There are crazies out there.”

  Dar smiled quietly. It was nice, sometimes, to have someone be concerned about you, even if they were doing it as part of their job. “I will.”

  She disconnected, and settled back to negotiate the traffic, putting on a New Age CD and rubbing her neck to try and relieve the nagging soreness that had developed during her drive.

  That kid… Dar rested her head against the back of the seat. Ah well. She exhaled. The blonde would probably have a better offer by tomorrow, and leave as big as mess as she could for Dar to clean up.

  Tropical Storm 19

  Happened every time.

  AFTER WATCHING HER unwelcome guest leave, Kerry walked back into her office and closed the door. She stood silently in the middle of the floor for a minute, then looked around. Pale blue carpet, light gray walls, wood grain desk—it wasn’t elegant, given what she’d grown up with, but...

  Damn it!

  “I worked so hard for this,” she whispered, sitting down in her visitor’s chair. “Damn it! This isn’t fair.” She let her head sink into her hands, bracing her elbows on the chair arms.

  There was a soft sound as the door opened behind her. “Ker?”

  “Yeah,” she replied, not bothering to move.

  An arm slipped around her shoulders, and she looked up to see Ray’s concerned face. “Jefa, don’t let it get to you like that. Blow her off, the big bitch.” He clucked at her, rubbing her neck. “What a scary person. I think she’s related to Cruella DeWhatever from that doggy movie.”

  A tiny laugh escaped from Kerry. “Ray, John was right. They want to get rid of all of us.” She looked up at him. “She’s giving me a chance to come up with a plan. If I can cut the budget in half, she’ll consider it, and maybe some folks will get to keep their jobs.“ A faint shake of her head signaled her discouragement. “There’s just no way.”

  Ray put his hands on his hips. “She’s giving you a chance to do that?” he repeated, his voice surprised. “That’s like…unheard of, from what I understand. How did you manage to get her to do that?” He lowered his tone.

  “Kerry, from what I was just hearing that big bitch just comes in and,” he snapped his fingers, “we all go bye-bye.”

  Kerry paused and thought. “Is it?” Her brow creased. “I don’t know. I just…I guess I wasn’t very nice to her. You’d think that would make her mad, but it didn’t. Matter of fact, I think she kind of liked it.” She made a wry face at him.

  He snorted. “Oh yes. She seems that type,” he remarked snidely. “I see the leather and the whip cracking around that one, you bet.”

  The director sighed. “I don’t know if I can come up with anything,” she admitted. “But I’ll give it a try, Ray. Try to save as many people as I can.” She gave him a tight smile. “But I think you better give Mona at Alternative Resources a call. Tell her we might have some prospects for her staff pool.”

  “Mañana.” Ray patted her on the shoulder. “Come on. We’re going down to Fat Tuesdays and doing the happy hour. Come with us.”

  A knock sounded on her door. “Ms. Stuart?”

  They looked up. “Come on in, Anita.” Kerry watched the short, slim accounting clerk bustle over, her arms filled with fanfold printouts. “That the stuff?”

  “The budget, yes, and payroll, accounts payable and receivables,” the woman replied, setting them on her desk. “Anything else you need right now?” She pushed her horn-rimmed glasses up and sniffed. “I have to reload the line printer if you do.”

  “No. Thanks, that’ll keep me busy for a while.” Kerry smiled at her 20 Melissa Good wearily. “Go on, Ray. Let me get started on this stuff.”

  The tall man blinked at her. “You can’t do this all night. Why don’t you just get a fresh thing going in the morning?”

  “Go on, get out of here,” Kerry repeated, rising and going to her desk, where she started pulling the various reports apart. It was going to be a long, long night, she could see that. “Wait. Ray, can you get me a paper box?” No sense in sitting here and doing the initial review. “Might as well make myself miserable in my own apartment.”

  “Kerry…”

  “Shoo,” the blonde woman said. “Sooner I get started, sooner we know how bad it’s going to be.”

  THE CAR FERRY was very quiet as Dar sat on it in solitary splendor, her car placed neatly in the center of the deck as the vehicle bobbed over the waves towards the island. The wind was blowing into her face, so the sound of the engines was muted, and she rested her pounding head against the door as the black waters slipped under the keel.

  She was hot and exhausted, and more than a little fed up, having spent the preceding ten hours in a high-rise building with no air conditioning, doing what she could to get things fixed. Which was considerable, granted, and when she’d finally browbeaten a contractor into obtaining a replacement panel and installing it at midnight, the few people left in the building had cheered and clapped for her.

  All three of them: two cleaners and the security guard, their uniforms sticking to them and drenched with sweat. Just like she was. She’d sent the rest of the staff home, and stayed there, propping the fourteenth floor emergency doors open to get a hint of a humid breeze in the place. Calls to the building managers, to her own facilities department, to infrastructure because the security panel links had been blown…all yielded no results, so she’d finally called the building contractors, and gotten the owner on the phone at ten PM.

  Thank god they only had a five-year contract, and it was up for renewal.

  That had been enough threat leverage to get him off his ass and get a part out, along with five grumbling technicians. Her glare behind them had done the rest, and by one AM, a low shudder passed through the building as the huge roof units hummed to life.

  Now it was two AM, and she was finally going home. Business would go on as usual tomorrow, with no interruptions, and that was the important thing, since they couldn’t run the huge server cascades unless the air was on.

  She’d left a note on her desk to find out ab
out a backup air unit for the computer room, for the next time.

  She also started coming up with answers as to why there was a this time.

  Infrastructure was her responsibility and she’d dropped the ball on this one.

  Damn it.

  She sighed and closed her eyes, letting the air conditioning in the Lexus hit her full blast. Another problem solved, and she was fairly sure not one person would thank her for it tomorrow. Save maybe the cleaning ladies, who Tropical Storm 21

  had timidly appeared at her office door while she was hollering at the contractor, bearing a pitcher of cold, home-brewed ice tea and a plastic cup. It was the only thing that had made her smile all night.

  With a gentle clank, the ferry docked, and she waited for the deck hands to remove the chocks around her wheels before she shifted the car into drive and carefully eased it up the sloping ramp and onto the island. A few minutes later she was tucking the Lexus into its spot under the condo, then pulling herself up the stairs and through the door, her fingers tapping in the code all by themselves, the beeps sounding startlingly loud in the quiet of the early morning.

  It was just as quiet inside. Dar dropped her briefcase in her office and trudged into her bedroom, the cool blue of the walls blissfully soothing to her tired eyes. She put her jacket back onto its hanger and kicked off her shoes, then unzipped her skirt and stepped out of the garment. As she unbuttoned and removed her shirt, she could feel the tension of the day between her shoulder blades, and she took a moment to lean against the wall and let the cool surface leech some of the residual warmth from her skin.

  Hell of a day. Dar pushed away from the wall and went into the bathroom, reaching in to start the water running in the large, circular glass shower. The scent of the chlorinated water was comfortingly familiar, and she slipped out of her underwear and under the warm spray with a heartfelt sigh.

  A kaleidoscope of images flickered through her mind’s eye as she stood under the shower, turning up the heat a little as the stiff muscles in her neck grudgingly began to relax under the pounding. She could taste the faint hint of tea on the back of her tongue, and a remembered scent of apricot tickled her senses as she thought about her long night and the unexpected challenges of the day.

  After her shower, she was exhausted but not sleepy, so she threw on a pair of old cotton shorts and a T-shirt, and trudged into the kitchen. Its counters were bare, but she ignored them and retrieved a large mug from the cabinet, filling it with milk and adding a spoonful of honey before she put it in the microwave to heat. The machine hummed, and she sat down on the stool nearby to wait, hooking her feet into the rungs and propping her head up on her hand as she leaned against the counter.

  The air conditioning cycled on, loud in the otherwise silent condo. Then a soft chime sounded. Dar gave the computer on the counter a glance, and her brow furrowed as she saw the blinking box in the corner. “Thought I cleaned my inbox out before I left the office. Mail?”

  “Mail, Dar Roberts, one,” the terminal answered, connected via its ISDN

  link directly to the office.

  “Read.” Dar crossed her arms and leaned against the counter, waiting for the microwave bell to ring.

  Sent by: Kerry Stuart, Time: 1:20 AM

  “Well, well.” Dar muttered softly to herself. “What do you know?” She saw the length. “Don’t read.”

  The bell went off, but Dar remained near the screen, reading the long, detailed message with interest. It started off with “I need some details 22 Melissa Good clarified.” And ended with “Please forward this information as soon as possible due to the deadline you imposed.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” Instead of being upset, Dar smiled. The questions were literate, and though a touch on the naïve side, intelligent and thoughtful.

  Just like that kid is, I guess. She pulled her stool up next to the computer, retrieving her warm milk and sipping on it as she composed a detailed reply.

  “That’ll have to do her…at least for now,” the tall woman commented, as she paused with her mouse over the Send button. She studied the message, then added a single line to the bottom, and her initials. A click, and it was gone. She took her milk and wandered into the living room, dropping down onto the soft leather couch that faced the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Her view was of the Atlantic at night, black waters bisected by a silver lance of moonlight, and the tiny, colored lights of the sea buoys. On the horizon, a cruise ship was gliding silently past, a patch of sparkle against the darkness, and briefly, Dar wished she was on it.

  KERRY STIFLED A yawn as she checked her front door lock, a habit before going to bed. Her apartment looked like a paper mill had attacked her.

  Stacks of white sheets lay everywhere, but she was moderately satisfied with her first night’s work. Not that she’d gotten anywhere, but at least she knew what questions to start asking. To prove it, she’d shot off a list of ten of them to Cruella, her pet name for the overbearing and obnoxious Dar Roberts.

  “Nice surprise for her in the morning, huh?” she commented to the panda, who was sitting with his arms outstretched on the second of two stuffed chairs in the small living room. The rest of the space was taken up by a cloth couch, a small table that seated four people, two large bookcases overflowing with books, and a small desk that held her computer. The room was bright and cheerful. Pastel fabrics and Indian-style throw rugs brought in a touch of color, and the walls were hung with scenes of her subtropical surroundings. Her favorite, a sunset over Key West, was above the TV stand, and was flanked by two small embroideries: a dolphin her aunt had made her and a teddy bear from an old friend of her mother’s.

  “Oh…heck.” She sighed, remembering she’d forgotten to send mail to the staff regarding the visits by procedures people the next day. She walked over and flipped on her PC again, flopping down in her desk chair and pulling one leg up under her as she waited for it to boot. After her desktop was presented, she went into mail, composed a quick note to the staff, telling them to cooperate nicely with the people coming in, and told the system to send the mail.

  It dialed up and connected to their office mail server, and she watched as the message transferred, then blinked in surprise as the system indicated it was downloading a message. “What idiot is up at this time of the morning, sending mail?” she wondered. The message finished downloading, and popped into her inbox.

  Sent by: Dar Roberts

  Subject: re: Your Questions

  Time: 2:55 AM

  Tropical Storm 23

  “Oh. That idiot,” she muttered, hesitating before she clicked on the message, surprised at the nervousness she felt. “Well, that explains things. It’s obvious she’s an alien who never sleeps, and who has a port in her head she plugs things into,” she decided, then took a breath and opened the mail. She read through the sections, noting that the executive hadn’t bothered responding to the admittedly snarky comments in her note. “Well, okay. I think she’s wrong there, but…” She found another item. “Oh! I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Dar’s writing was strong and to the point; she could almost hear the words coming from the older woman, and surprisingly, they were lacking the condescension she’d half expected. Her final point answered, she let her eyes drop to the sign-off and blinked. “What?” She read it again.

  Corporate policy states that all personnel achieve a reasonable amount of sleep in every twenty-four hour period. Please adhere to the regulations from now on.

  DR

  “What’s that supposed to mean? What is she, some kind of lunatic? She gives me a crazy deadline of one stupid week to do something in, then says to make sure I sleep?” Kerry let out a vexed sigh, then set up a reply and cut most of the message out, except the header and the last line. “Okay, Ms. Wise Guy Alien from Mars, take that.” She highlighted the time on Dar’s header and made it boldface, then dropped down below the executive’s last line and typed in a comment. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  With a s
mirk, she sent the message, then turned off her monitor and trudged over to the lamp, shutting it off and heading into her bedroom. It featured a neatly made double-sized bed covered with a striped comforter in southwestern colors against one wall under the small window, a five-drawer dresser against one wall, and a long, three-drawer dresser with a half-height mirror, all in white wood. The carpet was a pale blue pile, and she wriggled her toes into its softness with a contented sigh as she crossed the floor, then climbed into bed and got under the covers.

  She could see the stars from there, and she watched them twinkle, trying to dispel the awful feeling of doom that had sat on her chest since Dar’s visit.

  For her people, sure, she felt horrible, and hoped she could help them. But for herself… She glanced around the neat bedroom and swallowed, remembering how good she’d felt when she finally got things just how she wanted them, and how proud she was of how nice everything looked. She liked it here. Her neighbors were nice and the complex was friendly; there was a mall close by for shopping; and she even had a little grill on the porch for when a few friends came over and barbecued.

  It was so nice to be out on her own. No one questioned if she stayed up late or stayed out. No one questioned how she dressed, or who she talked to.

  She was…very happy here.

  Now this.

  Part of her hated the corporation. Part of her also wanted to hate Dar Roberts, who applied the corporation’s polices with such obvious relish. They felt large, impersonal, and scornful of anything she might try to do. And yet…

  24 Melissa Good Kerry sighed. It was obvious Dar was smart; she had an air about her that made Kerry believe she didn’t get crossed much, and when she did, the results were unpredictable. But on the tour, she’d asked some very sharp questions, and those incredible blue eyes hadn’t missed much.

  Whoa. Incredible? What am I thinking here? Kerry firmly closed her own eyes, and pulled the blanket up around her chin. The only thing incredible about Dar Roberts is her incredible arrogance. So there.