Jack Be Quick Ch. 02

If you haven't read Chapter 01 you really ought to go back and read it now. Otherwise it's going to be like coming into a theater after the movie started.

In case you missed my earlier warnings, there isn't any explicit sex in this story.

Hans

*****

Christmas vacation wasn't much like what we'd expected. I made a quick trip to Cambridge for an interview, and then I had to do a whole lot of scurrying to withdraw from the life I knew and enter a whole new world. I'd compare it to surgery without an anesthetic - it was painful, but I was carried along by the thought of how much better everything would be after it was over. Winter weather gave the scalpel a special twist. Carrying boxes and luggage isn't any big deal in the other seasons, but with snow and ice underfoot, every step was an adventure. I wound up falling into a snow pile with a big box that came open and spilled books all over, and I came close to an encore performance a few times.

You'd probably expect that leaving home would be the occasion of tearful farewells, and you'd be right. But that was only the tip of the iceberg. I'd been living in the same bedroom since I learned to walk. As I matured from a little kid into a computer guy I transformed a normal bedroom into a high tech laboratory, and I had a mountain of books and tools and equipment to move. Everything had to be disconnected here and there, and I had a couple of boxes just for cables and wires. Fortunately, George, the lab supervisor in Cambridge, had a space in one corner that somebody had recently vacated, where I could set up my stuff. It wasn't like a private office, but with a desk, table, and bookcase to work with, one long day saw the essentials installed, connected, and tested.

The easy part was moving into Trudy's apartment. The girl who had been there the longest, had moved out at the end of the fall semester, which opened up her space. We moved into the largest bedroom, which must have been the master bedroom before this big old house was made into apartments. The closet was a walk-in with plenty of room for the two of us, and we had a private bathroom, which is practically unheard of in a college town. The bed was queen size, plenty big enough for the two of us, and we had two small desks and a bookcase. The rent was more than the other rooms, but I was making pretty good money from the security project so that wasn't a problem. All the tenants on the floor shared a living room, with two sofas, three overstuffed chairs, and various small side tables. Some folding chairs were stacked in a corner for overflow crowds.

I was sitting in the living room catching my breath, and Trudy came in and plopped down in my lap. "I've got all my clothes hung up," she said, "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, thanks. I think I've got everything put away. This is all new to me, and there's a lot more room than I expected. More than I had at home, in fact. Real nice place.

"What I was just thinking about was the two of us sharing a room. My friends have told me what a lot of drama there usually is when a guy and girl move in together, but we just hustled into it like the most normal thing in the world. I never asked you if it was all right with you, and I'm sorry if I took that for granted. I think I'm so relieved to be here with you that my feelings got in the way of my manners.

"When I left you here in August I was so worried about losing you that I was miserable. This project is a huge career boost for me, but the best part is that we're together again. And living together absolutely frosts the cake. Last night we went to sleep all wrapped up together, and we were still tight together when I woke up this morning."

"I know just what you mean. This is such a relief for me, too. I was getting soooo homesick. Spending Thanksgiving away from home was awful. I cried myself to sleep a couple of nights that weekend. Now, with us together again, I feel that a huge weight's been lifted off my shoulders. I just hope we'll never be apart again." Her words were punctuated by a kiss. "Being in love is funny. It makes me feel so complete, to be in love with you and have you close. But when I think of all the years ahead of us, sometimes I worry about the possibility of something coming between us in all that time, and that makes me sick to my stomach."

"Then let's just agree right now that we're together forever. We're a good pair, both smart but with different talents. As long as we're together we can face up to any obstacle, and we've had a semester apart to show us how awful that can be. So wanting to be together isn't just hormones or emotions. We're both smart enough to know a good thing when we've got it, and it's just up to us to make sure nothing ever splits us up. I feel as if I'm proposing to you and you're accepting, just like getting engaged. Maybe we are." Again, the flow of words was interrupted by two soft lips that got in the way. "Hey, I'll tell you what we oughta do. Some time, whenever I can get a few bucks ahead, let's buy an engagement ring to show the world that we've selected each other as our partner for life. Then out in the future we can get married, but it'll just be a formality. If you're looking for me to promise my life to you forever, this is it, right here, right now. We don't need to be in a church to make a binding promise. Agreed?"

"I never thought about it that way. You're right. When we say we're in it for the long haul it's just like getting married. I won't have to be homesick any more, because from now on my home is wherever we're together. It'll be so much easier to live here now. I bet we'll both be able to concentrate on school a lot better, now that we're together again. We'll seem smarter than we were when we were separated." She sat up straight and put her hand up by her mouth. "Hey, you people out there in the academic world! We're about to run over all of you like a steamroller!"

We dissolved into giggles, and it occurred to me that this was the best laugh we'd had together in a long time. It felt great!

* * * * * * * * * *

Dr. Glenn Carlson was the head of our project. We didn't see a whole lot of him because he was always flitting off to Washington or Quantico or New York or Pasadena or Seattle, wherever he was needed to meet with government people and bankers and industrialists who would use our systems once we had them together. Our product was not exactly an operating system or application software, but a little of each combined with customized hardware, and elaborate protocols for stitching us into users' normal businesses. We were laying the foundation for everybody who handled sensitive information so they could do it a new way, with new controls in place to allow the intended users to do their thing but keep everybody else out. It was expected that we'd never be finished. Everything we put together would be constantly evolving and improving, to keep a few steps ahead of all sort of enemies who were trying to steal secrets or disable our government and derail our economy. Glenn was sort of like the head coach on a football team, providing direction for the rest of us but relying on his subordinates to keep everybody moving in that direction, without stumbling over our feet.

Glenn set up meetings with MIT faculty members to customize a curriculum for me, and insisted on a very flexible schedule so that I could complete my courses with a minimum of time away from our project. Virtually every exam was conducted as an in depth conversation with a faculty member, and my grades were entered into my record as a succession of 4's, to signify that I had fully met the course requirements.

My quickness in acquiring and assimilating new information helped me to get through my directed studies in record time, so I could spend most of my time and energy on my work in the lab. It was was really fun to be with people who were at the very cutting edge of information technology and talk about things that lay ahead, passing ideas and suggestions back and forth. Occasionally what they were doing reminded me of subroutines I'd developed for tackling specific recurring problems, starting back when I was in junior high. I had a library of these little specialized programs that saved me from having to rediscover the wheel, some just macros consisting of a couple of lines of code, and some rather involved routines that ran a hundred lines or more. I freely shared anything I had that could save work for my friends, whether they were coworkers or fellow students or even faculty members. Gradually I became known as a guy who would make the time to listen to a person with a problem and help map out an approach to solving it. Even George, my supervisor, used me as a sounding board occasionally, and he often sent people to me for help. By the time I'd been there three months, he'd shifted my work station around to add a conference table and chairs, and I had more floor space in my corner than he had in his office. I was really surprised that none of this caused a ripple among my coworkers, even though I was the youngest member of the team. I was finding that when all of us were working as hard as we could to solve complicated problems and push the state of the art ahead by leaps and bounds, there was no room in anybody's mind for envy or conflict. The few people who couldn't fit into a team had been weeded out before I got there. Everybody had an important job to do, and all of the system had to be in place and tested before any of us could rest. Nobody would finish first. This was a team effort, not a horse race.

* * * * * * * * * *

After I got settled in at work and handled a few small tasks, the first big job I was given was a complicated problem that had been hanging around for months. The written description of it covered six pages, single spaced. The best analogy I can think of is that it was like solving about forty simultaneous equations, but there were more unknowns than equations and not all of the functional relations were continuous. What I didn't know was that everybody had taken a shot at it, and nobody had come up with a completely satisfactory solution. It's a good thing nobody told me it was impossible, because that might have inhibited me from taking the bold step of breaking out some of the functions into separate subsystems, and if I hadn't done that I'd still be wandering around groping for a right direction. It took me nearly a month to master it completely and demonstrate to my satisfaction that my package would work all the time.

I went to George's office to arrange some time to show him what I'd come up with. It took him a couple of minutes to understand what I wanted, because when he saw me coming he was sure I was going to whine about not being able to solve the problem, just like everybody else. After his initial surprise, he asked me to stay late that night so we'd have privacy to go over what I'd done. We sat down at my work station after everybody had left, and I went through the whole demonstration for him. He asked a lot of questions and suggested some combinations of inputs that had sunk other attempted solutions. No matter what we fed in, we got sensible responses, mostly with less than two seconds of processing time. By midnight we'd run out of ways to try to defeat my package, and we sat back and relaxed.

George said, "Jack, that's a great way to wrap up the worst problem we've come across so far. I don't know exactly what I'm going to hand you next, but rest assured that if I find another mess like that one, it'll have your name on it. So now I want you to do two things. First, take tomorrow off. Second, figure out what you'd like to buy Trudy that you couldn't afford up to now, because you'll have a little more money in your paycheck from now on."

Trudy was delighted to know that I'd succeeded in doing what couldn't be done, and told me I was like Alexander the Great, slicing through the Gordian Knot. I told her that this knot was George's, not Gordy's.

I avoided mentioning to Trudy that I got a token raise as a result. I knew from my reading that most raises range from one to five per cent, and that a manager will often have only one or two per cent of his payroll to distribute as raises. So when I opened my next paycheck envelope and found that I'd been given a ten per cent raise, I was flabbergasted! The next night I took Trudy out to a table cloth restaurant, and for dessert I did the whole proposal thing, getting down on a knee and finishing up by slipping a ring onto her finger. "Jack, I had no idea! Oh, it's going to be so late when we get home, but I have to call Mom before we go to bed. When the phone rings this late she'll be scared, thinking something awful has happened. But I have to tell her now, I can't help it."

"Tru, this is big deal for us. This ring will mean different things to different people. To your mother it will mean that she can stop worrying about what kind of a man you'll spend the rest of your life with. To other men our age it will mean that you're no longer available. To your girl friends it will mean that there's no use asking you to go out on the town with them. To your older friends it will mean that you're a grownup now, taking a long view of life, not a little girl living for the moment.

"But the most important thing is that to you and me, it's a visible symbol of our promise to each other, to stick together forever, come what may. I know it's natural for girls to worry about their future, so the next hundred times you wonder if you can bet your life on that promise, all you have to do is look down at your hand. Even in the dark, you can slip your right hand over your left and feel the hard evidence of my promise to love you and stand by you, forever.

"Come on, let's get out of here. You can call your mom from the car. Tell her I expect an extra big hug next time I see her. And then let's have some alone time together."

* * * * * * * * * *

The project shut down for Spring Break, and we went home. It was great to see our parents, and I could feel how much I'd grown up in the short time I'd been away. We had a cookout at my house. Grace, Trudy's mom, brought the cole slaw and potato salad. Both were excellent, and my mom shared a private smile with me because I love potato salad, and had learned how to make it by helping her. From the time I was fourteen, any time we had a cookout I made the potato salad. And mine was good. Not better than what Grace made, but different, and in its own way just as good. She used a different kind of mustard in hers, and I made a mental note to incorporate that change in my recipe.

And the cole slaw! Best I'd ever tasted. The cabbage provides the setting for the dressing, and making it taste just right is a fine art. It has to have just the right amount of mayo in it and the right balance of vinegar and sugar, and she had it worked out perfectly. Also, she added a little crushed pineapple. That's a great touch, but you need to have confidence in your recipe to toss in something so sweet. I pulled her off to the side to talk about all this and compliment her cole slaw. She was stunned. "Jack, I never dreamed that you'd understand about these side dishes. They're absolutely necessary for a good cookout. You know, ever since my mother died I haven't had anybody I could talk with about these things. You're a wonderful addition to the family, Jack. No matter what Trudy says, you're good to have around."

Later in the afternoon Grace and I got talking about Swedish meatballs. We'd had a next door neighbor who made wonderful Swedish meatballs, and she moved away before I found out how she did it. Grace said she knew the secret. "The coffee controls the flavor, but you never notice it's there."

"Coffee! What's that got to do with it?" I asked.

"You have to put coffee in the meatballs. Real Swedes from the old country insist that the coffee has to be left over from the day before. That and the nutmeg are what set them apart from all other meatballs. Then they have to be kept small, and rolled up very loosely. If you hold one up and drop it onto your plate it should break all apart, kind of like glass shattering. Tomorrow let's let Trudy get with her friends and gossip about their classmates or whatever girl talk they want to do. You and I can have lunch together and then we'll spend the afternoon on Swedish meatballs. I'll show you all the tricks. By five o'clock the world will think you came from Stockholm." Wow, what a mother in law I was getting!

We were staying at Trudy's parents' home because it had two empty bedrooms, not just one as at my house. We all had a great afternoon and evening of cooking, eating, talking, and a little card playing. When Grace said good night to everybody she pulled me aside. "Look, Jack, we know you and Trudy have been sleeping together. We understand, but it's different from the way we were brought up and it'd be uncomfortable for us to come right out and endorse it. That's why your mother and I insist that you have two separate bedrooms. But think of us as sound sleepers. The patter of little feet at night won't bother us, but try to keep the screams muffled. By the way, we never had this conversation." Then she hugged me and kissed me on the cheek.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jim Mangrum asked me to join him at Freddie's for lunch one day. I found him at the same table we'd used before, and a scruffy looking guy was with him. He was a little older than Jim, had sort of long, unruly hair and the start of a beard, and was dressed in wrinkled clothes that might have looked good if they were cleaned and pressed. He was wearing scuffed hiking boots with cuffed pants. His shirt was worn out of his pants, but it had a button down collar. The whole picture just didn't look right to me, not exactly a nerd or a jock or scholar or laborer or businessman or bum, and whatever he was, I wondered what he was doing there with Jim.

As I sat down Jim introduced the man as Jerry Cartwright. As we shook hands, Jerry's left hand flipped open an ID wallet that had an FBI card and a badge. Jim asked Jerry, "Do you want me to leave, to give you two some privacy?"

"No, no, that's not necessary. Let's order our food and then we can talk for a minute, so by the time it gets here we can relax and enjoy a nice lunch." That said, Jerry turned to me. "Jack, I'll explain all this in a few minutes, but I want you to know that I'm an undercover investigator. And I can see in your face the question that's bothering you, so I'll answer it now. No, you're not in any kind of trouble."

Janice came and took our order, and she and I chatted for a minute. She had seen the notice of our engagement in the paper and said she'd be putting the clipping up on their bulletin board. After she left, Jerry said, "Jack, you've been singled out as a reliable person, and we've investigated your background very carefully. Minutely. Microscopically. The reason is that we need a friend in your project, someone in the trenches who can verify things we need to make sure of. For example, if some guy says he was in the project area from early morning till past suppertime, we might need to ask if you happened to see him during that time. I need a friend who will tell me the absolute truth, even if it's 'I don't know.' In doing so, you can either confirm that we have an answer or let us know that we need to dig deeper to find one. Now that, in a nutshell, is what this is all about. Would you be willing to do that for us?"

"Well, it seems sort of odd, but I can't see any reason not to help you. Is this all related to national security?"

"Yes, exactly. You've already been briefed on how important and how secret your project is. Here's what we haven't told you or anybody else. We're keeping every detail of the work on the project very secret, but we are deliberately letting the existence and overall purpose of the project leak out here and there. It'll attract some people that we want to learn more about, maybe arrest. It's simply impossible to get them on a hook without bait, so your project is a tasty morsel that we're trolling with to see what we can haul in."