IBM Lands Devil's Point Contract
Research Triangle Park—Raleigh News & Courier
Beleaguered computer giant IBM announced Friday that it has secured the master automation contract for the massive and controversial Devil's Point amusement park in coastal Pender County.
"I think this contract confirms IBM's continued commercial viability," said Triangle Park Division Manager William Emerson. "It plays to our strengths, and I'm confidant we will be able to give North Carolina's Unchained citizens and corporations the same kind of technical expertise and service that has made our reputation."
"None of their systems talk to anything else, or to each other," said Devil's Point's chief automation officer, Fellanol, a Fallen angel. "You have to pay extra for TCP/IP and their mainframe operating systems are a disaster. Their systems belong in Hell."
In IBM's Triangle facilities, which have been subject to numerous layoffs during the past several years, spontaneous celebrations erupted at the news; at the height of the festivities, several employees were seen to loosen their ties.
Jan buzzed Rhea. "Line one," she said, "I don't think you're going to like it." There had been a lot of things Rhea hadn't liked lately. Almost being captured not least among them. She hurt most because she didn't dare tell Jack the truth about why she'd turned him down. Damn it, why did he have to want to marry her? She couldn't say yes without telling him the complete truth before the ceremony. And she knew she'd really hurt him with her flat refusal and her unwillingness to give him any reasons.
Her phone beeped again. Rhea sighed and picked it up. "Rheabeth Samuels," she said.
"Ms. Samuels—" Rhea disliked the voice on the other end immediately. "This is John Dent, chief auditor with TRITEL."
Please, not another money fight, she thought. "Yes?" she said.
"You have three hundred million of our dollars."
"Your company made a three hundred million dollar investment in my company—yes," she corrected.
"No, we did not."
Rhea's gut knotted and she sat up straight. "What do you mean, you didn't?"
"No such decision ever came before the board; no such disbursement was ever authorized. Believe me, I would know."
"What are you talking about? I signed a contract with Al Roberts. The initial financial transfer went without a hitch."
"Mr. Roberts is a mid-level executive. His authority does not extend to taking on obligations of this magnitude without board approval. And, I might add, he has been missing for the last three weeks."
"He came to me with an assurance that he had full clearance, and the check was signed by whoever it is at your end that has authority to sign checks. He must have skipped your board and cleared it directly with your top people."
"Mr. Williams, our president and CEO, died unexpectedly last week," Dent said. "Heart attack. But I'm sure he would have left some kind of mention of a deal like this with his board. In his papers. Somewhere around here." Dent cleared his throat. "No, Ms. Samuels, you have stolen our funds."
"The hell I have!" Rhea yelled, then calmed herself forcibly. "No. I haven't stolen your funds. And I'm equally sure that this screw-up originates on your end, and that our deal with TRITEL is rock-solid. However, if for just a moment, I imagine that it isn't, and that somehow Al Roberts got access to your funds without the authorization he said he had, what do you want me to do about it?"
"It's quite simple. We want our money back."
"Impossible," snapped Rhea. "I'm not a bank. I don't keep money in a vault. I use it to make more money. TRITEL's money is in large chunks of a rocket in Manteo that is about ready for its first launch."
"I suggest you find a way to liquidate, then. We will sue if we have to, Ms. Samuels. These things can get messy."
"You have no idea how messy they can get," Rhea said softly. She hung up the phone, and all her conviction emptied out of her, as if she'd been a balloon punctured by a bullet.
She closed her eyes and put her head in her hands.