So much for buying the house, as I'd tell Michael the next time we talked. I thanked the lawyer for his time, signed off, and then called to ask Darlene in Personnel to send him the information he needed. Offhand, I couldn't think of anything else I might need from him, but you never knew; so it seemed useful to keep on his good side.
So few people passed through the reception area for the next hour that I began to wonder if they'd all fled down the fire escape. I finally grew so curious that I put the switchboard in night mode and went back to see what was going on.
I'd hoped to find them all busily doing evil things to the Affirmation Bears. I was disappointed. Yes, nearly every cube sported a bear, one or two of them partially disassembled. But most of the staff were in the computer lab, apparently receiving a pep talk from Jack.
I found out what Dad had been up to all morning when I walked into the lunchroom.
As I stepped over the threshold, I felt something catch at my ankle. I was glancing down to see what it was when I saw something falling from the ceiling onto my head. I threw my good hand up to protect my face and intercepted a flying mouse cord.
“Damn,“ I heard someone say. “That almost worked.“ . I glanced over and saw Dad and Rico crouched behind one of the tables.
“Not really,“ Dad said.
“If she hadn't put her hand up, it would have worked.“
“What are you two trying to do?“ I asked.
“Testing a theory of mine,“ Dad said.
I glanced around. The tables and the floor around the doorway were littered with nails, hammers, screwdrivers, bolts, and assorted bits of string, not to mention a dozen or so mouse cords. Only one or two had intact mice still attached.
“Let me rig it up again,“ Rico said, grabbing another mouse from the clutter He dragged a chair over to the doorway and began attaching the mouse to a complicated device made of levers, pulleys, and rubber bands, which dangled over the doorway from a set of hooks and eyes. When he'd finished attaching the mouse, he ran a string down the wall and then across the doorway.
“There,“ he said. “Meg, could you go out and walk in again?
And this time, don't try to protect yourself; just walk in and – “
“Nothing doing,“ I said. “I'm not sure how you think you can launch that thing with enough force to strangle someone, but just in case this is not as stupid as it seems, I'm not going to play guinea pig. Why don't you walk in yourself?“
“But I know how it works and – “
“Damn!“
The chief financial officer had walked in. Apparently he'd been walking faster than I had – when he hit the trip wire, instead of the mouse cord, the whole contraption came down and tangled itself around his head.
“I think we'd have noticed if someone had rigged a booby trap like that anywhere on the premises,“ I said as I helped them disentangle their captive.
“I thought if we could figure out how to propel the mouse cord with the right trajectory and sufficient force to strangle someone, then we'd worry about reproducing the effect with less hardware,“ Dad said. “But so far, we haven't achieved anywhere near enough momentum or accuracy. I'm beginning to think maybe this is a dead end.“
“Why complicate things?“ I said. “I know it would be more fun if someone had built an elaborate machine to kill Ted by remote control, but I really don't think whoever did this went to that much trouble. I think they just got mad and strangled him on the spot.“
“It's just that it's hard to imagine anyone having the nerve to do that, here in such a crowded office,“ Dad said.
“Someone did,“ I said. “And they probably knew the office well enough to know just when and where it was uncrowded. like maybe during a meeting; look how empty the place is now, with everyone in the computer lab.“
“Hmmm,“ Dad said, but I could see he wasn't convinced.
He and Rico began rigging up their mouse-cord launcher again.
“If you wait a few minutes, we can try to trap you again,“ he said.
“Maybe later,“ I said, strolling out.
The meeting in the computer lab was still going on, and most of the rest of the staff were there.
The few exceptions were all clustered around Frankie's monitor, reading something.
“What's up?“ I said.
“Hi, Meg,“ Frankie said. “You know anything about this?“
The others stepped aside so I could get close enough to read the monitor. I could see that they'd been reading a Web site that published gossip about the computer gaming industry. I followed Frankie's pointing finger.
The latest inside scoop from Mutant Wizards is that the much-awaited new release will be a companion game, Veterinarians from Hell.
Oh, dear, I thought.
“Vets from Hell,“ Frankie said. “Must be a new idea Rob's been working on. Man, what an incredible brain that guy has! One idea after another!“
I was a little startled at this picture of Rob as a gaming mastermind. To me, Rob seemed to have only one idea, on which he was determined to ring in as many variations as possible. Lawyers from Hell, Doctors from Hell, Cops from Hell, and now, if public reaction to the rumor I'd inadvertently started was favorable, Vets from Hell.
“Hey, we could use Doc as a consultant,“ Frankie said.
Doc? Did they mean Dad? Considering that all of Mother's farmer cousins habitually asked him for free medical advice for their livestock, I supposed he could contribute usefully to Vets from Hell.
“Just think of it!“ one of the developers suggested. “We don't just have cats and dogs… We have anacondas, Vietnamese potbellied pigs, zebras…. It's a teaching tool.“
“Unicorns, wyverns, manticores,“ suggested another.
“Mutant Vets from Hell!“ they shrieked in chorus.
“Mutant“ was a code word; it meant they were about to stray even further than usual from reality. In about five minutes, they'd be arguing over how to implement a coherent system of magic. I'd heard this all before. Maybe it was time to nip this particular brainstorming session in the bud.
“Actually, I think I was the one to blame for that article,“ I said. “It wasn't something Rob was planning at all.“
They stared at me.
“Wow, I bet it's, like, genetic,“ one of them murmured in awestruck tones.
“So have you got a development team yet?“ another asked.
“I'll get back to you,“ I said, and left, hastily. I knew Rob was already giving serious thought to Mutant Lawyers from Hell, in which the competing lawyers could win trials not only with evidence and witnesses, but also by casting spells to confuse the jury and turning the opposing lawyers into swine. With my luck, Rob would actually like the Mutant Vets idea.
I was relieved to get back to the switchboard. At least I was until I heard the door open and looked up to see the biker entering. Okay, he made me a little less nervous than he did before I saw him with the cat, but that didn't mean I wanted him clinking into the Mutant Wizards reception room. And what was he carrying in the battered black leather satchel? Not to mention the crumpled brown paper bag?
“I've come to see Cathleen Ni Houlihan,“ he said.
“I'm afraid, we don't have anyone working here by that name,“ I said while shifting so I could more easily
