Copyright © 2013 Mary Hughes
All rights reserved
Vickie
returned from lunch irritable. She tried to work, but couldn’t keep her mind on
the simplest task. So she got up and went to the gym.
“Thought
I might find you here.”
“Why?”
she puffed.
“Cliff
does the same thing when he gets worked up. He works out. Hey, you’re doing
that wrong, you know.”
She
threw him a look that, if she had been any less tired, would have wilted him. “Really?
I didn’t think you could do this wrong.”
“Oh,
sure. You have to stand straight, otherwise you’re not getting the maximum
benefit out of it.”
She
straightened her posture, found herself worn out in five minutes, and stopped.
John,
who had been warming up on the cycle, came over. “Great. Now, what weights do
you do?”
She
shrugged. “Oh, you know, the manly ones. Two hundred pound bar‑bellsbarbells,
and the like.”
“Okay,
since this is your first time, let’s start over here at the machines. Free
weights are more effective, but you need to have some strength built up first,
or you might hurt yourself.”
“Thanks,
Arnold . What
else?”
“Hey,
I built Cliff’s body, I can do yours.”
“I
don’t want a body like Cliff’s.” Yes, I
do, said her libido. She shushed the traitorous thing.
“What
was that?” John looked over his shoulder.
“I
said, what is that thing there?”
“This
is the first machine I want you to try. We’ll start with twenty pounds. It’s
for your back muscles, this set here, feel them? .
Okay, now pull smoothly, and don’t let the weights fall on the way back. Good.”
While
she worked out, John kept up a steady stream of conversation. Tess had sicced him on her,
to distract her from the painCliff, Vickie
thought acidly. But, turnabout was fair play, so as long as he was talking, she
asked him casually about he and Tess.
John
just grinned. “I wouldn’t have noticed.”
She
started pushing the weights savagely.
“Hey,
take it easy. You don’t build strength that way, you tear muscles.”
John
took her through machines for her biceps, triceps, pectorals, gluteus maximus
and muscles she couldn’t even find, much less remember the names of. When John
finally called it quits, she felt like a colander full of spaghetti, she was
trembling so hard.
“I’ll remember.” ‘Every time I sitshe sat
down I’llshe’d
remember. Or try to stand. Or lift something. Or do anything.’
A week later, Vickie was finally packing
the HCC300 prototype, all its software loaded up, for beta
testing in Middle Yemen. The chip factory there should bewas
almost done, and ready for. When everything was set, the
HCC300 would go into mass production of the HCC300. The computers would then be shipped back here
for software bundling and sales.
Vickie hated her own part in it, but at least
she wasn’t
involved in hadn’t worked on Fahrrad’s national
defense net. Cliff had
taken the reins on that when he got to Middle YemenThat was all Cliff.
Vickie
sighed. If she kept this up, she wouldshe’d not only be
here when he came back, but she wouldshe’d be
apologizing to him. She had finished all but some very small details,
which Tess and John had promised they’d take care of. Tess, of course, was
staying. Vickie was packing up this weekend. She didn’t have to be back at workFitzwater
until Wednesday, but she was planning on taking a few days off when she got
home to relax. ‘Two days ‘til Saturday,’ she
thought. ‘Then. I’ll pack up and go home, and Sir
Humphrey Hawkesclyffe in all his radiant glory will fade from my mind like a
bad dream. Sure he will.’would.
She okayed the shipment and watched as the
special couriers carefully lifted the large freight box and carried it away. She
turned from them before they could see her eyes glistening. Even if she managed
to rout Cliff from her mind, every day she wouldshe’d still see
reminders of him. every day. The company appeared
daily in the stock columnmarket columns of the news,
the man himself was often quoted in the trades. With the arrival of the new
computer and DALE chip on the market, she was sure,
the exposure would only increase. Maybe she should find a new profession. Like
stunt pilot. Or maybe the
armedArmed forces. ?
She laughed ruefully. The way John had trained her, they’d snap her right up.
She’d
been standing there too long. Some of the employees walking past were staring
at her strangely. Well, she felt like a stranger now, too. She shook her head,
remembering it was less than three months ago, her first month here, when she
felt like she was home at last. Ironic.
Vickie
walked slowly to the gym for a workout. There was really nothing much more for
her to do. She avoided John and Tess, feeling like a wet blanket around them. She
couldn’t even face a sundae any more. After she worked out, she returned to her
office and buried herself in detail. She worked until 9:00, went home, slept
poorly, and did it all over again the next day.
Finally
it was Friday. She said good‑bye to all her people, then all of his. Tess and
John were cleaning up some detail off‑siteoffsite, so she was
spared the hardest good byes of all. And she
wouldBesides, she’d see John and Tess off and on, after
all. Butthem around—though it
would never be the same.
She
dragged herself home. ‘No, my…no, to her
apartment, she corrected herself. My. Her flat iswas her
home.’ She
started packing, but found herself too tired. As she got ready for bed, an
abbreviated version of her normal routine, she promised herself she would get
up early tomorrow to do it. Tomorrow she would pack. Tomorrow she would go home.
Good‑bye, Tess. Good‑bye, John. Good‑bye, Cliff.
The
man at the desk waited tensely. If the phone did not ring today, he would have
to call some of his most highly‑placed contacts.
It just wasn’t
usualwas highly unusual not to hear at least something.
The man knew the other’s disposition had been sour when he hadhe’d
gone, but now he wondered just how muchsour.
At
eleven p.m.., worried,
he packed his things up to go home. He was very
worried. He hesitated, just
a little while longer. Maybe the phone would still ring.
It
did. The man grabbed it immediately.
“Where
the hell have you been? What isWhat’s
going on over there?”
There
was static from the line. Then the other man’s voice came, flat and weary. “The
old system is gone. I had to install the new one.”
The
man’s tirade died immediately. “Then it’s hopeless. Why did you do that?”
“He
was paranoid enough to pick. He picked up some traces
fromof my hacking with the old system. .
But there’s still a chance.”
“How?”
“I
only connected the local system. And I know how to break it.”
The
man was even more concerned. “You said you’d get out as soon as everything was
ready.”
Crackling
obscured part of the reply. “…finish this myself.” Then the line went dead.
[M1]The
idea of the humor was here but it didn't click. I took most of it out.
[M2]I
left the first training session in but the rest made it into a fitness book.
Research and knowledge are good, but it's a novel. The emphasis is on
character, motivation and conflict, not their workout routine.
[M3]This
is a great example of how event hopping can get confusing. She's reflecting on
two weeks from now, then two weeks ago, then she IS two weeks from now...I
cleaned out considerable clutter. Which will make it easier to see dust and
damage in the next edit pass.
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