Tropical Convergence

Chapter Eleven

THE MID-MORNING sun was pouring with liquid fervor across the carpet, it's edge creeping closer and closer to the desk set slightly offset, and at an angle to the door.

Its occupant looked up and studied it, as a puff of dust mingled with the molten light and reflected a dull glitter as the particles drifted toward the floor. "Memo. Get the cleaning crew in here with the vacuum twice a week." Kerry shook her head and scribbled a note. "No wonder I've been sneezing."

A buzz. "Hey, Kerry, I need a favor."

Kerry put her cup down and regarded her phone warily. "Sure, Mark. What is it?" she asked, shifting a little and wincing in mild discomfort. "You're set to come with me to the meeting, right?"

"I sure am, but um..." Mark cleared his throat. "Listen, I had to take one of my bikes into the shop last week and it's ready. Can I catch a ride with you to the meeting, and you drop me off to pick it up after we're done? If I wait till after we get back, they'll be closed."

"Oh, sure," Kerry agreed readily. "No problem. You about ready to leave?"

"Yep," Mark said. "Just putting my gear in the backpack. I've got the scanners and the drawing pad with me, but I gotta tell you, boss, I ain't big D when it comes to this stuff."

"Is anyone?" Kerry smiled, tilting her head and glancing at the picture on her desk.

"Well, you sure you don't want one of the engineers to tag along?"

"Not for this session," Kerry said. "For one thing, it's just an intro. For another, I want someone with me who saw the whole circus in Orlando, and for a third thing, you know the political side of this. An engineer won't."

"Ppphhh...okay," Mark responded. "Meet you downstairs?"

"Ten minutes," Kerry agreed, releasing the line. She went back to her mail, clicking on the next in a succession of minor catastrophes. She sipped her herbal tea while she reviewed the note, shifting her gaze to one side briefly as she tried to recall the location of a resource which had probably been ancient when Dar had joined the company.

"Oh, hell." She picked up her PDA and tapped the screen, typing in a short message. She hit send and waited, twirling the stylus in her fingers until she saw the light of an incoming reply flash. A smile creased her face, and she put the PDA down so she could type something into her pc's message reply, then sent it on its way before she picked her pad back up.

Thanks...what are you doing?

Having a damn boring breakfast. What are you doing?

Kerry grinned. Getting ready to go to my meeting. I'm taking Mark.

Good choice. Orange juice sucks here.

"Oh, sure. Drink it there, but not for me, huh?" Kerry scolded.

Are you having grits?

Grits in Manhattan? You want me not to come back?

Oh, never. Kerry's thumb stroked the screen lightly. Wish you were here right now.

The reply took a little longer than before. Me, too.

Kerry exhaled. "Boy, what is it with us the past few days?" she murmured, sensing the emotion both in herself and in the responses she was getting. Well, I'll be waiting at the airport tonight, so you better not be late coming back from that crazy apple.

Ugh. I'll be there, Ker, but if these jackasses don't get their act together, I might have to stay over another night.

"Ugh is right." Kerry frowned. Ew.

(frown)

Kerry tapped her stylus against the screen thoughtfully. "Damn." Let me know, okay? I hope you don't have to stay.

You'll be the first to know. I am going to dump this bad omelette and go terrorize people. Good luck with the meeting.

Yeah. You too. Talk to you later, Dixiecup.

(grin) Later, Yankee.

The exchange made her feel pleasantly warm and fuzzy inside, though the lingering worry about Dar's state of mind was still there, lurking in the background.

However. Kerry scribbled a brief paragraph onto the screen, reviewed it, and then hit send, waiting expectantly until she saw the reply.

Saucy little wench. Say that again tonight.

"Heh. I will." Kerry put the PDA down and with a final glance at her own monitor, she set her trackball aside and stood up, carefully shrugging on her metallic bronze colored jacket over the gold silk shirt she'd chosen that morning.

It was a bit flashier than she usually preferred, but Kerry hadn't been brought up in a political rat's nest for nothing. She knew how to dress to make an impact, and at this meeting, when she'd be the principal instead of acting as Dar's trusted right hand, she had a bit of a different image to present.

She finished her tea, then slid the strap of her laptop case over her right shoulder and headed for the door, pausing briefly to check her reflection in the small mirror over the credenza.

It was a relatively sophisticated image that looked back at her. The new haircut framed her face a little differently, lengthening it just a touch, she thought. After a fluff of her bangs, she gave her image a grudging nod, then continued out the door. "Okay, Mayte. I'm outta here."

Her assistant looked up from her work. "Oh, Ms. Kerry. You look so pretty today," she exclaimed. "What a nice jacket!'

Not immune to flattery by any means, Kerry paused and grinned, showing off her outfit. "Like it? Dar said I needed something a little snazzier the last time we went shopping so..." She shrugged slightly.

"Did la jefa pick that one out? She has a good taste," Mayte said.

"Yes, she did," Kerry agreed. "And I like to think she does." She winked at Mayte. "I'm going to be offsite all afternoon if anyone's looking for me. I'll be at the Intercontinental at a prospective new business meeting."

"Si." Mayte nodded. "Ms. Mariana called for the employee meeting, and she said she would move it to next week. She is going to be off tomorrow for her birthday."

"Oh, yikes." Kerry's eyes widened. "How did we miss that? Can we get a cake in for Friday? Something big and decorated really crazy?" She made a mental note to remind Dar also, who probably would eschew a card but possibly not something far more bizarre...like the spiny cactus she'd gotten Duks for his last birthday.

"We can do that, sure," Mayte agreed confidently. "I will take care of it, Ms. Kerry. No problem."

With a wave of her fingers, Kerry slipped out the front entrance of her office and headed for the elevators. She felt a little nervous, both from the knowledge that their rivals would be there waiting for her and of the bid process itself.

That, she knew down pat. She'd gone on dozens of new business bids, most as Dar's second, but occasionally as the primary contact when her partner was occupied elsewhere. While her usual job was to come in after the contract had closed and make it all happen, she knew the delicate casting landing the deals took.

Dar was, in the terms of business, a closer. She didn't usually do the initial leg work, she left that to the sales directors and regional managers who worked with the new accounts. Her job was to come in when the money talk got tough and lay down the bottom line of what they'd accept on a contract, and what they wouldn't.

Her word was law, even over the highest sales executives, and everyone knew only Alastair could, or would, overrule her and he never had.

Never.

Kerry was more than aware of that going into any new bid. She felt responsible for doing her job, of course, but she was also very conscious of being Dar's personal and professional representative. She knew people had expectations of her because of that, and she focused intently on living up to or surpassing them.

It was easy for people to think she did what she did because of her relationship with Dar. Kerry eyed the floor counter on the elevator, waiting for it to descend to the ground. People here at ILS no longer thought that--they were well aware of her capabilities.

But she knew she was going into a situation where their relationship was known better than they were, and so...Kerry sighed.

That got old real fast. She hoped she could put Michelle in her place before the whole thing got started so they could stick to business for a change. Maybe she'd get lucky, as Dar had said, and Telegenics would send engineers instead of highly annoying marketing heads whose faces made Kerry want to pick up a sledgehammer.

"Hey, boss," Mark greeted her as the doors opened. He had a nerd backpack slung over one shoulder and was dressed in a more reserved, formal suit than was usual for him. "Ready?"

"Ready." Kerry led the way toward the doors. "Let's go make waves."

DAR SAT BACK in the thick, leather conference room chair and let her eyes travel around the table, just watching as the discussion moved from seat to seat. She rested her elbows on the chair arms and interlaced her fingers, trying the best she knew how not to either fidget or explode.

Clueless. "So what you're telling me," she finally interrupted the conversation. "Is that the developer can't control the resources his program needs to operate."

"Well..." The hitherto absent VP Ops, Jason Meyer, sighed. "Not exactly, but there is a problem with the way the code's written."

"Problem?" Dar's eyebrows lifted. "Given the test I just ran, they've offloaded all their processing to the servers, and it's running everything across your WAN links to minimal clients. That's not a problem, that's a design disaster, Jason."

"But, it's an advantage, Dar," Stewart Godson said. "Every time they make changes, they don't have to alter the client, and it's big bucks to us in savings. They just do what they need to do, and it's taken care of."

Dar exhaled silently. "I'm pretty conversant with the economies of the mainframe based distribution model, Stewart. It's been around longer than I have," she remarked dryly. "And I won't even disagree with it, on a local scale. My support desk often wishes for the old days, when the users just flipped a switch and got a green screen. However," she tapped her thumbs together, "GUI based applications are not meant to be pushed across the wide area network if you expect any kind of reasonable response time."

"Well..."

"Did the vendor do any bandwidth testing?" Dar asked.

Godson shrugged. "He said he did, and that it had an acceptable result."

Dar just looked at him for a long moment. "What did he define as acceptable?" she asked cautiously.

Godson looked at Meyer, who looked out the window. "Ah...there's a language barrier," Stewart admitted. "The developer is German, and he doesn't...um...speak English."

It was like being stuck in some bizarro Dilbert world. Dar rested her chin against her folded hands and found herself at an uncharacteristic loss for words. "Um." She finally exhaled, with a slight shake of her head. "What exactly do you want me to do, here?"

The rest of the room's occupants looked at each other, then focused on Godson. "Well, make it work," he said. "You can, can't you?"

"Sure," Dar replied. "Got a million bucks for infrastructure upgrades?"

Godson actually gasped. "Of course not!"

Dar got up and started pacing, her body's instincts finally getting the better of her. "Okay." She lifted both hands and held them out slightly. "You have a new application, written by a firm over in Germany, which is designed to require four times the amount of bandwidth you currently have provisioned for." She turned and leaned against the table. "So, gentlemen, you have one of three possible choices." One hand lifted and indicated a finger. "You can scrap the application, make the developer fix it so it works right, or pay for expanding your network."

Agitated, Godson got up. "Dar, we can't do any of those. We've already paid for the program...it cost us over 10 million dollars! And it's a good program. It'll raise our productivity ten-fold!"

Dar just looked at him.

"But we don't have a half a million dollars to put new circuits in. That's why we called you. You're our network administrator. Fix it!"

"Your network is based on a usage curve you signed off on," Dar shot back. "We don't have to fix it, Stewart. All we have to do is deliver what you paid for, which is the bandwidth you got right now." She pointed at the CIO.

"Dar, put yourself in my shoes. What would you do?" the man replied, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Fire myself," Dar told him, bluntly.

The entire room save the two of them was frozen, everyone looking at their hands folded on the big wooden conference table. The morning sunlight entered into the room via a row of small windows near the top of the wall, but the effect was almost like that of a fishbowl.

Dar felt like one of her Siamese fighting fish, in fact. "So..."

"Can't you do anything?" Godson muttered. "You guys are supposed to be the best."

Patience. Dar took three or four breaths before she answered, mindful of the fact that she was, after all, at a client's site. "Okay. I'll fix it. Give me the damn source code," she said. "But I'm warning you, I bill by the hour for programming services and I ain't cheap."

Godson's expression brightened, and he turned to his VP. "Can we do that?"

The VP shook his head. "No sir." He cleared his throat. "We didn't get the source code."

Dar circled the table and sat down again in her seat. She propped her chin up on her fists and stared at the lot of them in patent disgust. "You paid ten million for an application and didn't get the source code?" she asked. "Please tell me you have a guarantee the developer will adapt the program to your specifications."

Godson looked at Meyer.

"I think so," Meyer sighed. "I mean, yes," he amended hastily as Dar started to stand up. "Yes, they'll rewrite whatever we need them to, only...um...they kind of have a little problem understanding what it is we need."

Dar sat back down and leaned back, resuming her brooding posture. "You don't have source code, you can't communicate with your developer, you paid for something that doesn't work on your existing infrastructure and you want me to fix it?"

"Well..." Godson leaned on his elbows. "I mean, who else can we go to, Dar? Really? Okay, so we maybe miscalculated a little, but this project is vital to the company. It has to happen."

Across the table, Meyer lifted his hand to cover his mouth, his eyes taking on a dark glint. "Well, maybe we have other options."

Dar remained quiet for a few minutes, considering her own options. They were as few as Godson's, really. She could walk out and tell them it was their problem not hers, but that meant a disaster for them, and they had a contract up for renewal next year with ILS.

She could force them to pay for new infrastructure, but the thought irked her given the fault really lay not with Godson or his clueless git of a VP Ops, but with the developer who sold them a bill of goods and was now probably laughing his German butt off on the other side of the world. Also, they had a contract up for renewal, and Dar knew if she forced a half million dollars worth of gear down Godson's throat, he'd just take it out of her when they were negotiating in twelve months.

If they re-signed at all. Something like this could cause them not to, no matter how good a deal she cut them.

So.

On the other hand, Dar reasoned, if she could pull this off, and fix Godson's problem, she had his cojones in a blender when it came time for him to sign on the dotted line in those same twelve months. The only problem with that was...

Shit. "Okay," Dar finally said. That meant she had to stay. "Call your developer, and have him put a coder on a plane before close of business today. When he gets here, he's gonna do exactly what I tell him to do, and I'll see if that, plus what I can squeeze out of the pipes, will get your Frankenstein walking."

Godson looked so relieved, Dar suspected he'd need to change his underwear before leaving the room.

"But..." Meyer spoke up, giving Dar a wary look. "His people only speak German."

"I speak German," Dar informed him wryly. "Just don't tell them that, okay? Not until the little bugger gets here and pretends he doesn't know what's going on." She casually took out her PDA and flipped the top open, frowning slightly as she started to scribble on it. After a second, she glanced up to see them all watching her. "Well?"

"Call him." Godson slapped the table, pointing at his VP. "Get that guy here...what's his name, Gunther?"

"Hans." Meyer opened his cell phone. "Okay, I'll get him here. It'll be tomorrow morning, though before he's landed."

"Fine," Dar muttered as she scribbled. "Tell you what. I'll bill THEM for having to teach the bastard how to write a decent application, how's that?"

For the first time, Godson chuckled. "Listen, Dar, I know this was a bitch of a thing to dump on you, but you know we really had no choice. You were the best option we had to salvage this...this..."

"Clusterfuck is the technical term we use." Dar leaned back, calculating the days. If the programmer got here tomorrow, and she was very, very lucky, maybe she'd get the hell out of here by the weekend.

Damn. She didn't want to stay here that long. She wanted to get to the airport, get on a plane, and just...

Her PDA chirped, and she glanced down, to see a hand drawn sad face appear on the screen. Then a second message appeared, and she clicked on it.

I am sitting here in this freaking oatmeal colored hotel conference room having to listen to freaking Michelle Graver go on and on about how wonderful her company is and how they're going to revolutionize Quest's business, and you tell me that??? Augguuhhh!!!!

Dar half listened to Meyer's halting conversation with the programmer as she answered.

Sorry, Ker. More complicated than I thought. I'll talk to you later about it. Might get out of here Friday night.

She sent the message. The PDA beeped almost immediately.

FRIDAY!!!!!!??????????????

"Dar?" Meyer called her name and waited for her to look up. "They can do it. The guy'll be on a flight that gets in here at eight a.m. tomorrow. How's that?"

"Good." Dar nodded, and then went back to her messaging. I'm not happy about it either. I have to go get a couple spare pairs of clothes, and these bastards are going to cope with them being jeans and T-shirts. She tapped the stylus a few times. Sorry. Didn't mean to stick you with the crap. Or the crappy jerks.

"Here's the game plan." Dar looked up after she sent the last message. "We start with laying out the design changes tomorrow morning. I'll give our German friend a framework to start with, and then I'll see what I can do with our existing infrastructure to maximize it. You may end up being a beta site."

"Okay." Godson nodded, a bit nervously. "Do we get a rebate for that?"

Dar stared at him, both eyebrows lifting.

"Just kidding," the CIO smiled weakly.

The PDA beeped. Dar's eyes dropped to it, scanning the message and gaining a faint twinkle as a ghost of a smile crossed her face.

I think Michelle and Shari got my silent mental message because they've been leaving me alone. My turn to lie like a fish is next, and then we're all supposed to have lunch. If I throw chicken Kiev at them, will you fire me so I can fly to NY and be with you instead?

"Dar?"

"Hm?" Dar glanced across the table. "All set?" She realized the room had been watching her, and shrugged, holding up the PDA. "Telling my staff back in Miami not to expect me. I've got a couple of hot irons someone's having to cover." BRB She scrawled hastily, hitting send.

"Uh...yeah, we're set," Meyer agreed. "Is there...can we do anything until he gets here? Run some...um...tests, or..."

Dar shook her head. "No." She battled the urge to ignore the room and chat with Kerry instead, finding it disturbingly difficult to keep her concentration on the clients in front of her. "Just tell everyone to relax, that you know it's slower than molasses, but that it's being worked on." She stood up and slipped her PDA into her pocket. "And now, gentlemen, I'm going to make arrangements for the rest of my responsibilities while I'm working on this little problem of yours. I'll see you first thing in the morning."

They hastily scrambled to their feet and started yammering thanks and goodbyes as she strode across the room, heading for the door and the dubious freedom of the Manhattan streets.

Outside, she was hit with a blast of hot air, and all the sounds of a busy city that jarred on her sensitive ears. She ducked between two buildings to escape the worst of the sun and opened her PDA, leaning against the brick building as she started to write. Finishing, she hit send, and then looked around her. "So." She unbuttoned the collar button on her shirt. "What in the hell do you do on a summer day in New York?"

With a sigh, she stepped out onto the sidewalk and began hunting for the proper spot to find a cab. "Guess I'll be finding out." She fixed an oncoming yellow victim with a direct stare, making eye contact with the driver and pulling him over to the curb apparently by the force of her own will. "Shit," she sighed, opening the back door. "Now I won't find out what she did for two whole damn days."

Damn it. The secret nipped at the corners of her conscience as she tried to puzzle out what her partner could have done that she didn't want to tell Dar about over the phone.

Shaved her head maybe? Dar frowned. No, she'd just gotten a haircut.

Maybe she dyed her hair a different color. "Hm." Dar put her PDA away and watched the city roll by. "How bad could that be?"

DAR REVIEWED HER options once she'd changed out of her suit into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. There was, she had to grudgingly admit, a lot of things to do in New York, but most of them didn't really appeal to her.

Of course, she could stay in her hotel room and catch up on email. She gave her laptop a dour look, leaning over to check the screen. It was dark with new lines, some of them with red exclamation points next to them.

Dar read the first two, then impatiently shoved the laptop away, deciding to postpone the task until later. The sender's idea of urgent didn't jive with hers, and she had other things she needed to be doing. With a grunt, she got up from the bed and went to the small table, grabbing up one of the magazines there and dropping into the chair by the window.

Faintly, the sound of the city came through the glass. Dar turned her head and peered down at the street, but after a brief moment, she lost interest and went back to deciding what to do.

She flipped through the hotel guide restlessly, passing up coach rides in Central Park she'd have jumped at if Kerry was there, and the miles of shopping available to those into that kind of thing. Fancy stores whose advertisements probably cost more than the average family made in a month. Dar's nostrils twitched as she reflected on the fact that despite all her resources, her tastes really hadn't altered to high priced snootiness all that much.

Diamond bracelets? Well...

Dar occasionally enjoyed shopping, but usually only when she and Kerry were out for the day getting stuff they needed, and also mixing it up with lunch, or a trip to the computer store, or something they both found interesting.

They liked a lot of the same things. Dar always found that comforting. At first she'd wondered if Kerry was pretending to like things just because she wanted to make them seem more compatible, but after a while she realized they really did like the same stuff and in the cases when they didn't, she'd learned to read Kerry's facial expressions so accurately she knew in a single twitch of a muscle in her cheek what she was thinking.

That was so nice. Dar exhaled, and went back to her search for amusement. Maybe she could get Kerry a diamond bracelet. Would she like that?

She frowned, imagining Kerry's reaction. Her partner liked pretty things, but she often seemed unimpressed by expensive ones. In fact, the more inconsequential the gift Dar gave her, the more Kerry seemed to cherish it.

Hm.

She needed to do a little shopping for herself, but what she really wanted was some kind of...ah... Dar spread the magazine open and gazed at the advertisement, a quarter page near the back. It featured the picture of an aircraft carrier, and a grin spread across Dar's face as she read the details. "The Intrepid Sea-Air-Space Museum. Yeah. Now that's more my style."

She checked the address. It was on the Hudson River, near midtown, not all that far from her. Walking was an option. Taxies were also an option. Dar considered carefully. Hm. But so was the subway. She drummed her fingers on the magazine, remembering her last sojourn underground.

Chicago, where they'd gotten stuck in the dark under the river. She'd practically run out of the station at the other end, nearly getting herself and Kerry into a lot of trouble.

The clenching in her guts made her angry. "God damn it, not that too." She made her decision and got up, adding her wallet to her back pocket and sticking the room key in there as well. "Maybe I'll ride that damned thing until they throw me off."

Grabbing her sunglasses, Dar marched out of the room and closed the door behind her, heading for the elevator with a grim, determined look on her face.

Dar waited for the elevator to open on the bottom floor of the Hyatt, and then she crossed the lobby and exited the hotel's ornate and stately front door.

Outside, the heat slammed into her, but lacking her wool suit, Dar now shrugged it off as she would have back home. She slipped her sunglasses on and directed her attention to the building adjacent to her hotel. "Grand Central Station. Bet I can catch something there." She headed for the building, trotting up the steps and entering the wide, ornate doors.

Inside, she stopped, drawing to one side and blinking as she took in the vast, cavernous chamber that spread to all sides around her. The scale was immense, but more than that, there was an indefinable sense of history here that even Dar picked up on.

It was also beautiful. "Huh." Dar slowly walked forward, and started down the steps into the main hall. The ceiling curved overhead, painted in a deep blue, and featured the signs of the zodiac. The stone walls seemed freshly scrubbed, their construction solid and imposing.

Slowly, she made her way downstairs, looking around at the status boards listing trains leaving for points outside the city. People walked all around her, intent on getting to their destinations and she was forced to restrict her gawking lest she be bowled over by aggressively marching city residents.

Her PDA went off. Dar stepped to one side and pulled it out of her pocket, glancing down at the screen.

What's the word in Spanish for fornicating pig?

Dar looked around in reflex, clearing her throat before she removed the stylus and considered her answer. As opposed to a pig that's just standing there eating?

A man glanced at her as he hurried by, making eye contact as he looked over his sunglasses. Dar gave him a brief smile, then returned her attention to the PDA as it chirped.

Yes.

With a sigh, Dar shook her head. Hope you aren't getting into that much trouble, sweetheart. Fornicando puerco, but I'm hoping you're not putting that on a Powerpoint slide.

She only had a moment to wait for the answer.

Oh, yeah. A hundred memorable quotations from the inimitable Dar Roberts, annotated. It's gonna be great!

Dar laughed in pure reflex. Troublemaker.

Just venting a little of my frustration with some help from my one and only. The fornicando puerco is finally done. My turn. Later. Love you.

Love you too. Dar leaned against the stair railing and smiled, letting her eyes linger over the words before she sent them and tucked the machine away.

A small kiosk caught her eye and she dodged through the crowd, arriving at the souvenir stand without getting run over. The stand had an old photograph of the station, in black and white, with a striking series of sunbeams pouring through the upper windows.

Kerry would most certainly appreciate it. "I'll take one of these." She selected a poster tube and handed over the money for it to the dour, unlit cigar chomping man behind the desk.

"Sure ya don't want it in a nice frame, lady? Got a great bargain here on this one." He indicated an ornate, gilded monstrosity.

"No thanks," Dar politely refused. "I've got to carry it on the plane. This is easier."

"Whatever. Later. G'bye." The man turned to another customer, leaving Dar standing there with her poster in her hand slightly taken aback by the gruff attitude.

Collecting herself, Dar edged against one of the walls and peered around, finally spotting the entrance to the subway. She approached it, pausing a moment before she started down the steps.

The walls were all bright and cheery, but for every second she was on the stairs, Dar was aware of the fact that she was moving further and further under the ground. Her throat went dry, and she swallowed in reflex as she reached the first platform, and was faced with a number of posted signs laying out the different routes.

Dar stopped in front of a subway map, using the excuse of studying it to allow her heartbeat to settle. She could still see the steps up from where she was, and there was sufficient space around her. "Okay." She exhaled, focusing on the maze of colored lines in front of her. After a moment, her brow creased. "Jesus," she muttered. "I've seen spider webs less complicated than this."

The thought of a taxi suddenly became extremely appealing. Dar glanced over her head at the steel infrastructure, wincing a little as some train nearby rattled past and a gust of cold air blew against her. "What in the hell am I doing?"

Seeing if you have any guts at all left? Her inner voice mocked her.

With a scowl, she turned and walked to one of the token machines, studying it for a minute before she inserted a few bills and retrieved a square of cardboard for her troubles. She looked at it, and then her expression brightened. "Hey. I can prove to Kerry I did this."

Looking around to find her route, Dar started off down a passageway, sidestepping a man playing a flute and two women selling bags of... "Hm." She paused and purchased a bag of churros, taking one out to nibble on as she explored further into the maze.

Her selected route was the Times Square shuttle, since that appeared to let out reasonably close to the Intrepid museum, and more importantly, wasn't that far underground. Dar found the correct platform relatively easily, and leaned against the metal support, waiting for the train to arrive.

Okay, so far, so good. Dar glanced around her, and then she walked down the platform to where a small set of steps seemed to lead downward. She peeked down them, spotting more signs leading to more platforms, leading to different trains, which seemed to run in every direction at many different levels.

The complexity and seeming randomness unexpectedly intrigued her. It was almost as though some kids had taken six or seven of their individual train sets and threw them all together, pouring glue on top and hoping for the best.

Dar turned and surveyed the station she was standing on, taking in the tile mosaics, and the patchwork grid of the ceiling beams that crossed and re-crossed each other. The steel members seemed old, almost ancient, though the station tiles appeared new, and the facility was well kept.

Hm.

The train arrived, in a clatter of wheels and a blast of musky air.

Dar waited until the occupants had exited, and most of the people waiting to enter got in. Then she stepped onto the train, appreciating the chill of the air conditioning as she selected a seat on one side, near the back and settled into it.

The train was about half full. Dar studied her subway map, giving the doors an impatient look every few seconds when they obstinately refused to close. As the train sat there, a few late-comers jumped on. One of them, a tall bronze skinned girl in black denim and leather took the seat next to Dar.

They studied each other for a minute. Then the girl lifted one of her leather boot encased feet and put it on her opposite knee. "Yo," she addressed Dar pleasantly. "You ain't from here, huh?"

Dar's eyebrows cocked slightly. Behind her sunglasses, she glanced down at herself, comparing her appearance to the appearance of the rest of the train's occupants.

Hm. Apparently New Yorkers in downtown Manhattan didn't dress like refugees from a Jimmy Buffet concert. "No," she allowed briefly.

"Yeah." The girl folded her arms over her chest. "That's what I figured. Cause us New Yorkers don't go round half naked like that, y'know?"

Since the train wasn't moving, Dar decided conversation wouldn't hurt, and it would keep her mind off the butterflies in her stomach. "Why not?" she asked. "It's a hundred degrees outside."

"Just cause we don't," the girl responded readily. "I mean, you dress like that, you just asking for guys to come out, and be all like, touching you, and all that jazz. You know?"

Dar tilted her head and let her sunglasses drop down on her nose slightly, making actual eye contact with the women. "No, I don't," she drawled, hearing the touch of molasses enter her tone.

"Yo. You got some really cool eyes. I like that color," the woman complimented her. "They real?"

Dar blinked, her brows arching up. Then she realized what the woman meant. "Yeah." She pushed her sunglasses back up and leaned back. "What's with the train?" She changed the subject to one she figured the woman would know better than she did.

"This?" The woman pointed up over her head. "Oh, I don't know. They do that sometimes. Just make 'em stop, bam. Like that."

Erf. Dar glanced at the still open door. Just then, though, the speakers crackled to life over their heads and a gravelly voice intruded into the train.

There has been a power failure up the line and all the trains are stopped. Do not stand in the doorways. The trains can move at any time. Thank you.

It was like an omen. Dar figured. This was God's way of telling her to get the hell off the damn subway and go take a cab like any other self respecting Floridian would. She started to get up, but as she did, the doors whipped closed, and the train started moving unexpectedly, throwing her back into her seat. "Guess we're leaving now," she commented dryly.

"So." The girl edged nearer. "Where ya from, what's ya name?" She held out a hand. "I'm Scuzzy."

Dar eyed her in alarm. It's a sixty second ride, Dar. Deal with it. "Dar. I'm from Miami."

"Cool!" Scuzzy shook her hand firmly. "That's a cool name, and Miami's a cool place," she said.

"Thanks." Dar smiled briefly.

Abruptly, the train slowed and stopped again. Dar glanced outside, and saw nothing but black tunnel walls. Behind her glasses, she closed her eyes and tried not to think about how many tons of granite buildings were perched over her head, pressing down on tunnels she was sure were far too old, based on the ones she'd seen in the station.

"Yo. You like hockey?"

Dar opened one eye. "What?"

"Me and my buds, we're going down to the ice rink and play killer hockey later on, like tonight. You wanna come play? I can see you do somethin' with all them muscles you got."

Dar swore she heard creaking outside.

Subways, she realized, were looking like a bad, bad mistake.

"FUDGE." KERRY GLOWERED at her PDA. "Fudge, fudge, fudge."

"Something wrong, boss?" Mark whispered.

Kerry rocked back in her chair, shedding some of her fidgets. "Ah...Dar's stuck in New York," she sighed. "Maybe until Friday."

The session so far had been nothing more than a recap of the bid request, and then subsequent presentations by the four companies as to how they intended on fulfilling them.

Quest was there along with three of his attendants and four others he'd introduced from his company that were immediately forgettable and seemed more like movie extras than engaged executives.

Mark scribbled a few things on his pad, making a show of paying attention to Michelle Graver's presentation. "Well, she'da been wasted being here. Hell, you're wasted being here. We coulda sent one of the sales interns to do this crap."

"Mm." Kerry had to agree. "It's all a dog-and-pony show." She checked her watch, wishing her turn was over and they at least had the minor entertainment of lunch to look forward to. "Oh well, it's the start off session. I guess it was to be expected. I'm glad Dar's not here."

Totally not true.

"She'd be wigging," Mark muttered wryly.

Totally true.

Actually, Dar would have already left, finding the presentations pointless and the dialog meaningless. She'd probably have been in the taco shop across the road with instructions to call her when something got mildly interesting.

Kerry leaned on her elbow and pictured her partner's restless attitude without any problem at all. Her PDA chirped and she glanced at it, reading Dar's longer, more coherent message absorbedly. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," she groused under her breath. "You're gonna owe me for this, you little southern fried..."

"Uh... Kerry, did you say something?"

Kerry closed her PDA and dragged her attention back to Michelle. "Nope," she sighed. "Isn't it time for lunch, yet?"

Mark looked at his wrist. "It's only eleven o'clock."

"What's your point?" Green eyes studied him from under half lowered lids. "I missed breakfast," Kerry admitted. "I was in a rush this morning because I overslept."

"Forgot the old alarm, huh?"

Kerry managed a wry grin. "My alarm's in Manhattan." She watched Mark's face color a trifle. "You asked."

"Sure did," he agreed ruefully. "TMI, boss. TMI."

"Mm." Kerry listened to the speech with one ear, hopeful she was detecting a sense of closing in Michelle's voice. "Sorry about that. But it's true. Dar's better than any clock I've ever seen, and it's really hard to hit her snooze button." She rested her head on her fist, her eyes traveling slightly as she saw a newcomer enter, walking quietly over to sit by Shari and lean close to talk to her.

Something familiar about the man made her frown, and she nudged Mark's arm slightly. "Who is that guy?"

Mark swiveled in his seat and looked. "Hey...isn't that the guy from Tech TV? The one who was interviewing you and big D?"

Ah. No wonder he looked familiar. "Uh...huh," Kerry mused. "Now, isn't he cozy with the competition. Wonder what's up with that?" The man seemed very friendly with Shari, and as she watched, he took out a pad and a camera, put the camera on the table, and scribbled some notes on the pad. "Ohh...ho. What do you want to bet he's not asking for advice on some DSL routers?"

"So, in sum," Michelle cleared her throat, "we hope to show the kind of value any company looking to outsource their IT solutions has a right to expect." She rested her hands on the lectern. "We hope to open a new era in providing the types of services to all companies that only the largest, richest companies have been able to afford in the past." Her eyes wandered, apparently randomly, to Kerry's and held there for a moment, then moved on.

Kerry deliberately flipped open the top to her PDA and scribbled a note on it, then tapped send.

"Toward that end, I'm sure you'll be delighted to hear, Mr. Quest, we have invited a member of the distinguished technology press to join our bid team and chronicle our progress, and how this challenge evolves into what I'm sure will be a great success for whoever wins it." Michelle went on, smiling easily and giving Shari a knowing look.

"Hm. Somehow I got the impression that Quest dude didn't want this whole thing publicized," Mark muttered under his breath. "He doesn't look real happy."

Kerry observed the forced smile on Quest's face. "No, he doesn't," she agreed, sending a last note on her PDA before she closed it up.

"Thank you for your patience and attention." Michelle surrendered the lectern at last, taking her notes and retreating around the side of it before she headed back to her seat to a smattering of applause.

"Ah. Yes." Peter Quest scratched his cheek, then stood up. "Ah, thank you, Ms. Graver. Now, ah, before we break for lunch, we have one final presentation." He half turned toward Kerry and raised his brows. "Ms...ah, Stuart?"

Kerry stood up and gently pushed her chair in, then walked around to the lectern and rested her elbows on it, leaning forward and waiting until the room's pre-lunch restlessness stilled and she had their attention.

She somehow doubted the scheduling order had been by chance, in any sense.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen." She allowed a faint, self-deprecating smile to appear on her face, and took the time to make eye contact with those interested enough to be looking at her. "When I was asked to present a basic infrastructure outline here, I wasn't notified of the three ring circus."

A number of faces twitched, not expecting the gentle attack.

"If I had been, I'd have brought my performing SEAL and dancing hamster to liven this all up." Kerry straightened up, to a sudden, surprised round of laughter. "Unfortunately for you all, I only have an IT infrastructure presentation, so I vote to plow through it at record speed so we can all have lunch, how's that?"

Another round of laughter, and some applause. "You buying?" one of her competitors shouted.

"How about I cook?" Kerry shot back, with an engaging grin. "I'm told I make a killer PB and J."

The crowd loosened up and perked up at the same time, exactly the response Kerry was going for. She waited for the laughter to peter out, and sorted her brief notes.

"Oh, sorry." Michelle half stood, a sour sweet expression on her face. "Did you need the projector? I'm afraid we're pretty connected to it."

"Nah." Kerry removed a small remote from her pocket. "What's the point in being the richest kids on the block, if you don't have the neatest toys?" She pressed a button. "We don't need no stinking projector." She waited for the thin laser wand to emerge from the back of her laptop, and raise up, opening the aperture and shooting a thin blue beam just over her shoulder. Kerry glanced back and adjusted the beam slightly, then triggered her presentation to start. "As I was saying..."

Behind her, a neatly drawn and notated network diagram appeared, starting with a core, and spreading out to the edge devices, all neatly encapsulated inside the outline of a ship.

Kerry turned and peered at it, then swiveled back around to the room. "We have a saying in the IT biz," she said. "Parts is parts." With a laser pointer she indicated first the core, then the remote devices. "Like in any network, best case practices dictate we treat this ship's infrastructure like we would any sound network. The biggest differences we see are the need for solid, absolute redundancy and the need to bolt every darn thing to the floor to keep it from pitching overboard."

"And pay a premium for it," Shari remarked.

"Well, that's true," Kerry agreed cheerfully. "We don't generally give our clients blue light specials." She smiled at Shari. "But I can see the incentive for that for companies with fewer resources than ours and clients who either don't know or don't care about business continuity."

Her finger clicked on the button, and she waited for the screen to paint with Dar's next drawing, an intricate schematic of the primary pieces of equipment she intended to use for the bid. "The design allows for all the functionality Mr. Quest specified. Our complete schematics will be put into his hands for review, and frankly, that's really all I have to say regarding our intentions."

She clicked through two more screens showing some general dimensions of the equipment Dar had chosen, then stopped on the last one, which showed a pretty graphic in several colors that illustrated the interconnected types of communication, which would flow through the system.

"The bottom line, ladies and gentlemen." Kerry made eye contact again, pinning Quest last of all. "Is not who can do this the cheapest and easiest. Anyone can do that."

Shari snorted.

"Economy is a strong motive, Ms. Stuart," Quest reminded her.

Kerry lightly shrugged both shoulders at him. "In the end, Mr. Quest, you're the one who has to stand behind whatever decision you make," she said. "So you have to decide how much you're willing to risk in terms of reliability and protection. Because that's what this is going to come down to."

"B..."

"Parts is parts," Kerry reminded him. "We all use the same equipment. This isn't rocket science. No one's doing anything revolutionary."

"Speak for yourself," Shari spoke up.

"Hey," one of Quest's men stood up and faced her. "You people were allowed to say your piece without getting interrupted. So please be quiet and give others the same courtesy."

Michelle didn't even so much as look at her partner. Shari appeared to consider responding, then she settled for a rare bit of good sense and merely nodded.

Kerry waited, a mildly amused look on her face. "We all know how to do this. Just because it's on a ship doesn't change anything." She looked at Quest. "But you're the one who has to face the rest of your company and your customers if what you buy doesn't hold up. I'll tell you right now, neither I, nor our network architect shops at Wal-Mart."

Quest fiddled with his pencil, clearly uncomfortable. "Yes, well, that's all fine. Are you done?"

Kerry clicked off her projector, and watched it fold neatly back against the spine of her laptop. "Yep, I sure am." She tucked the remote in her pocket and took her notes, which basically consisted of the words 'kiss my ass.' "Let's take a break, shall we?"

Everyone stirred, and started to rise. Kerry circled back around to her seat and pulled her laptop case up onto the chair, opening the top so she could slip her machine inside it's padded bay. The speech had been a trifle more aggressive than she'd planned, but after Michelle's pandering, she knew she had to make a mark and distinguish their plan as something different.

So she had. Kerry was very aware of the eyes on her as she put her gear up, and she carefully and deliberately slid the leather strap into its buckle and fastened it before she looked up. "Okay." She half turned to face Mark. "Ready?"

"Whatever you say, boss," Mark responded, already shouldering his own briefcase. His face showed that he was out of his depth and he knew it. "Lead on."

Kerry only wished she could lead them both right on out of the hotel and down the street to a little sandwich shop Dar favored with little ambiance and great food. Instead, she knew they'd have to suffer through lunch at the hotel, which would likely be robust with carefully shaped lettuce leaves and relatively tasteless.

Ah well.

They all filed out, and she and Mark politely waited as several of the other bidders hurried to follow Michelle and Shari and their reporter guest. After the last had gone on, she fell in step at the end, giving Quest a half nod as he picked up his notepad and prepared to join them.

"You know, Ms. Stuart." Quest kept his voice down as they left the room. "I didn't really appreciate your attitude up there."

Kerry hooked her thumb through her laptop case strap. "Well, you know, Mr. Quest, you asked for competitive bids. I think you got what you asked for." She regarded him briefly. "I'm not here to blow smoke up your tail. I think you know that."

He didn't answer for a few steps as they watched the other bidders cluster around the reporter. "Where's Ms. Roberts?" he asked. "I thought for sure she'd be here for this. She has some very significant competitors here."

Kerry resisted the urge to pull out her PDA. "Dar? She's working with a client of ours who has a major application issue they came to her to solve," she replied. "A strategic partner of ours."

"So that's more important than signing new business?"

A dry chuckle. "If you were the other client, how would you want me to answer that?" Kerry said, as she started down the steps toward the fountain bedecked luncheon restaurant.

Quest was briefly silent. "Well."

"It's not all about getting new business, Mr. Quest," Kerry added, in a mild tone. "If you don't retain your existing customers and help them grow, it's just a shell game."

He looked at her hard. "Are you inferring something, Ms. Stuart?"

Kerry's brows contracted. "Excuse me?"

"Never mind." He glanced around. "I expect you to be competitive. I don't want to be handed an expensive bag of tricks, from anyone here. I have to cut the best deal for my company possible."

"We'll give you the best deal we're capable of," Kerry said. "But we may give you what you need, not what you want."

Quest snorted. "They said you were arrogant. That's why I'm surprised Ms. Robert's isn't here. She's got that down pat."

Kerry felt a growl start deep in her throat. She cleared it just before it became audible. "Dar put time in on the design for your account. Now she's left it in my hands. We're both comfortable with that, I'm sorry if you aren't."

Slightly taken aback, Quest drew in a breath and edged slightly away from her. "Ms. Stuart..."

Kerry pointed suddenly at the reporter. "I thought you said you wanted to keep this quiet, Mr. Quest. How does that impact your plans?"

Quest fell pensively silent. "It was unexpected," he admitted finally, as they reached the bottom of the steps. "But it's all that geek talk. No one I care about will see it or give a damn." He shrugged. "So if you want to spend all your time pissing on each other, Ms. Stuart, and giving them ratings--go for it. I've got more important things to do."

Kerry watched him walk off, glad of the few moments quiet respite before they joined the others. "Know what?" she remarked to her silent companion.

"What?" Mark made a vague clucking noise.

"You know that look Dar gets, the one where she sort of squints, and you think she's going to bite someone?"

"Oh, yeah."

"I'm so understanding that look right now."

Mark sighed. "Man, you guys do this all the time? I don't think I could handle that. These guys suck."

Kerry patted him on the back and had to silently, if ruefully, agree as they reached the group and joined the rest of the nattily suited men and women in sitting down at two large, round tables. "You know what Dar would do?" she whispered behind her hand as they took chairs next to each other.

"Cheeseburger, fries and a shake," Mark whispered back. "Somewhere else."

Kerry took her napkin and popped it open, laying it across her lap with an easy grace as she reviewed the menu card placed on her plate. "Yeah." She exhaled, finding herself directly across from Shari, who took pleasure in smiling fiercely at her. "Or she'd order a pizza." She found herself smiling for a different reason. "Delivered to the table. But we can't, so let's just make the best of it." She lifted her glass and sipped some cold water from it.

It was going to be a very, very long day.