to make these two believe him. When the questions began, it was the fat man who asked them, and who did not seem to believe the man’s story. Or did not want to believe it. But, try as he might, the fat man could not find fault with the story. At least this man was consistent with his facts. Which was not difficult, as he was telling the exact truth to begin with.
“I think you can see why I came to you.”
“You did the right thing, my child. I promise you, I will look into this.”
The fat man rose with difficulty from the chair and offered his hand to the storyteller. He remained calm, and even smiled as if this man had told him something that pleased him. But as soon as the man left the room, his countenance turned dark and his voice took on a hard edge.
“Have you checked out this man?” he snapped.
“He seems to be who and what he claimed,” answered the other. “I will, of course, check further into his story.”
“You must! If there is the slightest shred of truth in what he says, we must know!”
“And act upon it,” added the slender man.
“What?!” The fat man froze for long moments as that idea churned around in his mind. Then he slumped back into the chair. “You are right, of course. We have never faced a danger like this before. We may have to act, and swiftly!”
Chapter 8: Confrontation
Charges for computer time did not match the logs for Machine use.
That might not sound like much – perhaps just a clerical error, but to a snoop like Tamara it was like waving a red flag in her face. Since the computer time usage was greater, that suggested the Machine’s use was not all being logged properly. Mistake? Probably not. Especially since it occurred on more than one occasion. So what was going on? She continued comparing the data. The largest of the discrepancies occurred just over a month prior, with smaller ones trickling down to the present, but the story it told her was that someone used the Machine and did not want others to know about it.
After a break for lunch, she began charting the Machine use by project. An interesting pattern emerged; one that set her thinking. The power usage logs also corroborated that the Machine was being used for some unknown purpose. Again, small drains here and there, but one large one a month prior. All projects had an occasional discrepancy, but the biggest – again a month ago – was for that Project J.
Tamara printed out some of the key data, and then got on the phone to Brian Stryker’s secretary, informing her that she wished to see the boss immediately. After the usual protests that he was a busy man and maybe she could make an appointment, the DOD auditor got tough.
“Look, either I see him within an hour, or you won’t believe the report I’ll be submitting to my bosses in DOD.” The threat was delivered in her professional, calm tone, totally devoid of emotion – and carried all the more impact because of that. She was a pro at manipulating secretaries.
Ten minutes later she was ushered into Dr. Stryker’s office. He was behind his desk, and did not rise politely as he should have when a lady entered the room. What was happening to common courtesies?
“I’ve found some discrepancies in some of your records. The pattern demonstrates that someone, or ones, are using your time machine and not logging the proper entries.”
She enjoyed the way his face turned pale. Now came the interesting part. She would watch his reactions carefully to judge whether he knew about this or not.
“I... Perhaps it is just a clerical error,” he almost stammered, grasping for an explanation.
“I think not. I have here some of the logs and related data. Would you like to go over them now?”
She was surprised when he rose from the
“I think you can see why I came to you.”
“You did the right thing, my child. I promise you, I will look into this.”
The fat man rose with difficulty from the chair and offered his hand to the storyteller. He remained calm, and even smiled as if this man had told him something that pleased him. But as soon as the man left the room, his countenance turned dark and his voice took on a hard edge.
“Have you checked out this man?” he snapped.
“He seems to be who and what he claimed,” answered the other. “I will, of course, check further into his story.”
“You must! If there is the slightest shred of truth in what he says, we must know!”
“And act upon it,” added the slender man.
“What?!” The fat man froze for long moments as that idea churned around in his mind. Then he slumped back into the chair. “You are right, of course. We have never faced a danger like this before. We may have to act, and swiftly!”
Chapter 8: Confrontation
Charges for computer time did not match the logs for Machine use.
That might not sound like much – perhaps just a clerical error, but to a snoop like Tamara it was like waving a red flag in her face. Since the computer time usage was greater, that suggested the Machine’s use was not all being logged properly. Mistake? Probably not. Especially since it occurred on more than one occasion. So what was going on? She continued comparing the data. The largest of the discrepancies occurred just over a month prior, with smaller ones trickling down to the present, but the story it told her was that someone used the Machine and did not want others to know about it.
After a break for lunch, she began charting the Machine use by project. An interesting pattern emerged; one that set her thinking. The power usage logs also corroborated that the Machine was being used for some unknown purpose. Again, small drains here and there, but one large one a month prior. All projects had an occasional discrepancy, but the biggest – again a month ago – was for that Project J.
Tamara printed out some of the key data, and then got on the phone to Brian Stryker’s secretary, informing her that she wished to see the boss immediately. After the usual protests that he was a busy man and maybe she could make an appointment, the DOD auditor got tough.
“Look, either I see him within an hour, or you won’t believe the report I’ll be submitting to my bosses in DOD.” The threat was delivered in her professional, calm tone, totally devoid of emotion – and carried all the more impact because of that. She was a pro at manipulating secretaries.
Ten minutes later she was ushered into Dr. Stryker’s office. He was behind his desk, and did not rise politely as he should have when a lady entered the room. What was happening to common courtesies?
“I’ve found some discrepancies in some of your records. The pattern demonstrates that someone, or ones, are using your time machine and not logging the proper entries.”
She enjoyed the way his face turned pale. Now came the interesting part. She would watch his reactions carefully to judge whether he knew about this or not.
“I... Perhaps it is just a clerical error,” he almost stammered, grasping for an explanation.
“I think not. I have here some of the logs and related data. Would you like to go over them now?”
She was surprised when he rose from the
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