Hobart Rowe paced back and forth, his jaws strained to bursting with gum.
“He’s got us by the balls, Hank. We’re up against the handicapped lobby unless we play along.”
“I don’t see the problem, Hobe. Why can’t they phone it in?”
“Huh?”
“Get an identical computer in Dallas and download Babbage’s software into it. I don’t see why we need an airline when the phones work perfectly well.”
Rowe shook his head..
“Won’t wash. Our lawyer checked into it. If they download Babbage to another computer, now there are two of them. The second one is a different individual in the eyes of the law, not the one named in the suit. And in Texas, you have to appear in person when the court subpoenas you. You can’t phone it in.”
Hank looked for someplace to spit. He didn’t care much for lawyers; smart enough guys, sure, but they spent their time outwitting laws. Laws were just made up out of thin air, as far as Hank was concerned. Lawyering was a terrible waste of potential engineering talent.
“If that’s how it is, that’s how it is. We can get this thing on a plane,” Hank said.
Rowe stopped pacing.
“Just like that?” he said.
Hank didn’t see what the big deal was. He said so.
“Cut and dried. We pull up two seats in three adjacent rows. He only weighs about three thousand pounds; if we put him on the aisle, and clear the seats in front and behind, the floor will take the weight easy. Then just run the cables under the floor like we do for the in-flight phones, and the cryo tanks in the space in front of the wing door.”
“Don’t we need that door for safety reasons?” Rowe wanted to know. “It’s one of the evacuation routes, I think.”
“Only if you make a water landing. I checked,” Hank said. “From Chicago to Dallas, you’re gonna find water to land in? I’d take the risk, Hobe.”
“Hank, have a stick of gum. You’re a genius.”
Hank took the gum to be polite. He had false teeth, which Rowe didn’t know about. He added it to the stash in his pocket.
“Lemme know how it goes tonight, OK?” he said, rising to his feet.
“Whoa, buddy. Where you goin’? We got to get this puppy off the ground,” Rowe said.
“My shift’s over,” Hank said slowly. “I’m going home.”
“You’re gonna turn down overtime?” Rowe said, grinning.
Hank didn’t exactly grin back.
“This time I am, yeah. Today’s my son’s birthday.”
“Well, congratulations, Hank! When’s the party?”
“Tonight.”
“Can’t be tonight, old buddy. We got a computer to fly!”
Hank gave Hobart Rowe a long, searching look. Rowe’s grin was too wide, too tight to be real.
Something was wrong.
“Whaddya say, Hank? We’ve known each other a long time, ain’t we?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“So? Let’s get out on the line and go-go-GO!”
“Hobart.” He held up a hand. “What’s so damn important about getting me on this plane?”
Rowe addressed his words to the side, not to Hank.
“We-ell, the company’s pretty worried about a lawsuit, Hank. You know how lawyers can be.”
“Nothing illegal about me going home.”
“Uh.” Rowe had to look at him now. “No, not in so many words. But look, Hank. You’re our best mechanic and everybody knows it.”
Hank crossed his arms and said nothing. He had a disgusted look on his mug.
“So say something were to, you know, go a little bit… wrong up there. Nobody’s ever tried shipping an intelligent computer by plane, you know And if something goes wrong, he could be brain-damaged for life.”
Hank nodded, his tongue in his lower cheek.
Rowe went on:
“If that happened, and they could prove our best mechanic wasn’t on that plane, it could look like the company didn’t make every effort to preserve Babbage’s life. We could be liable. And that’s all I’m saying.”
“So it’s an insurance thing,” Hank said.
“Wrongful death is more than just money,” Rowe said. “Our reputation would go straight down to hell with Hitler and O.J.”
“Over a computer?” Hank was frankly skeptical.
“The public loves this computer, Hank. He’s the darling of the net-set, and you know how well-organized they are. It could be a public relations disaster for Allied. We might even go under.”
Hank shook his head.
“You can’t lay all that at my door,” he said. “The company is not going to fold because I don’t get on a plane and nurse some whining computer halfway across the continent. That is not gonna happen!”
“Not if you get on board, it won’t,” Rowe agreed.
Hank stared at Rowe’s eyes. They were afraid.
“So that’s how it is, huh?” he said at last. Rowe almost winced.
“I can’t promise you anything. We go back, you and me, all right? You know I won’t be a schmuck. I’ll try to keep you on the job. But I don’t run the company either, Hank. You know what I’m saying?”
“You’re saying I’m shitcanned if I don’t play ball.”
Rowe’s shoulders sank.
“Not for sure. But maybe. Even probably.”
“Well, that is a hell of a note after twenty years, Hobe. That’s all I got to say. What am I s’posed to tell my wife?”
Rowe nodded, rubbing his hands on his pants.
“Woman trouble, huh? I hear you, partner.”
“What the hell would you know about it?” Hank demanded angrily. But he was out the door before Rowe could reply.
ARWIN LEBANC, counsel for the defense: Mr. Schram, what did your wife say when you told her you weren’t coming home?
HENRY SCHRAM: I, uh, don’t remember exactly.
ARWIN LEBANC: Approximately. What did she think of the idea?
HENRY SCHRAM: She was pretty upset.
ARWIN LEBANC: Did you have reason to think your marriage might be in danger?
HENRY SCHRAM: Now just a damn minute—
JANE BERRENDT: Objection. Your Honor, what relevance does this have?
JUDGE WRIGHT: I’d like to hear it myself. Mr. LeBanc?
ARWIN LEBANC: I am trying to establish Mr. Schram’s frame of mind at the time he entered the airplane. I believe this will help the jury decide how much weight to assign his testimony.
JUDGE WRIGHT: Mm-hmm. Objection sustained. Proceed, Mr. LeBanc.
ARWIN LEBANC: May I continue to establish the witness’ frame of mind on the date in question?
JUDGE WRIGHT: Not by asking him questions like that, you can’t.
ARWIN LEBANC: Very well, Your Honor. I understand, (pause) Mr. Schram, at the moment you left Mr. Rowe, did you agree to board the plane with Mr. Babbage, and keep him alive on his flight to Dallas?
HENRY SCHRAM: No, I din’t. I din’t want to and he wasn’t gonna make me.
ARWIN LEBANC: What did you do?
HENRY SCHRAM: I called home.
Hank held the phone very far from his ear. He could still hear Megan perfectly.
“Ahhh, I don’t believe it! No, wait. I do. This is so like you, Hank. You know how much this birthday means to Richard.”
Actually, he didn’t. Not really. Hank knew Ricky (his real name in Hank’s book, despite what Megan called him) was coming off a bad bout of tonsillitis, but it wasn’t like he’d been in the hospital or anything. And Ricky was a tough kid, able to scrape his knee on the sidewalk and laugh it off. Hank admired that about both his boys, but especially Ricky, because he was the oldest and it showed.
“Princess, he’s a big boy now. He knows these things happen.”
“He will not get over it, Hank. He is not just a puppy you can play with and then lock up outside when he wants too much attention.”