Chapter Six
Jake walked into the LASSO PI's office in the morning, per the appointment that had appeared in his calendar the day before. Herk was there, but standing to one side by his small conference table. Sitting at the PI's desk wasn't Herk, it was someone new. Also in the room was a woman he recognized as the University's HR director for the collab whose name he couldn't remember, and another man, in a cheap suit, standing with his hands behind his back like a soldier at parade rest. Herk introduced the man in his chair only as "from DOE". He didn't introduce the other suit.
Jake immediately became wary and faced Herk. "What's going on?"
"Jake, this is out of my hands. I'm sorry."
"Mr. Calvino, sit down, please," the man behind the desk said, gesturing to a chair.
Jake didn't feel like sitting down. "Who are you again?" He'd never been a paranoid person, just the opposite, but it seemed his time with her had stimulated some kind of new awareness in him. He hefted his backpack, heavy with the computers that he now always kept with him.
The DOE man sat up. "I represent FPF, the Federal Protective Forces. You may be familiar with us."
"You're the guys that protect nuclear reactors, right?" He remembered the acronym from the fusion startup, though he'd never had to interact with them
"Among other duties."
"What's this about?" he said, again to Herk, not the jerk sitting at the PI's desk. Although he had a hunch that he already knew.
Herk remained silent.
"We've uncovered some irregularities in your work here, Mr. Calvino." From the DOE guy.
"That's
Doctor
Calvino."
The DOE guy allowed the thinnest of smiles. He pushed a thick folder across the desk to Jake. "
Doctor.
" The way he said it, imitating the emphasis, was almost an insult. "You need to sign this."
He again asked Herk, "What is this?" He was not going to have a conversation with the asshole behind the desk.
"Just sign it, Jake."
He didn't even want to look at the folder, instead turning toward the door, thinking he'd simply leave. There was an awkward silence. "I have work to do."
The cheap suit moved to the door.
DOE sighed. "Doctor, you have a solid reputation in your field." DOE seemed to wait for some kind of response. Not getting one, he continued, "Long list of well-received papers. Excellent references from your previous endeavors in industry. Admiration from your colleagues in the collaboration." He waited again for a reaction, in vain. "It would be a shame to see it all come crashing down."
Jake resisted paying attention to the DOE man. To Herk he tried again, "What's going on here?" The PI looked intensely uncomfortable. He just shrugged and turned away, refusing to look Jake in the eye.
"Then let me be frank," DOE went on, "you've been stealing from the collaboration. You've been caught. Personally, I would just throw your ass in jail, but the collaboration board, in light of your contributions to the effort, is generously offering a deal."
Finally he had to face DOE. "My contributions?" He looked yet again to the PI for help. Finding none, he went on. "Ask Herk. Or anyone. I invented the fucking thing! And I haven't stolen anything."
DOE tapped the folder. "It's all in here, if you would just read it. Every detail. You falsely marked some very expensive equipment as junk, then purchased it at an outrageous discount, to use for-- well, we don't know what exactly, but we strongly suspect you're also stealing University IP. Embezzlement, fraud, theft. Probably more when we've completed the investigation. It's all in here." He tapped the folder again.
To Herk, not the asshole, Jake said, "This is bullshit. Why are you letting this happen? You approved those disposal authorizations yourself."
Herk stared at the floor.
"He was just following your recommendations,
Doctor,
" DOE answered. "He's not an expert in your field. You fooled him."
"I didn't fool anyone. Several
experts in my field
signed off on those disposals. Some of that junk was sitting in storage for years. You're the one being fooled." To Herk he added, "Why are you letting them do this?"
Without looking up Herk said, "Jake, you can't fight this. Just sign."
"No fucking way. You know I'm right. Everyone does. Except this asshole who's stolen your chair. Speaking of theft."
"Ah, yes," DOE went on, "the other experts. You should know we're also going to talk with-- what's her name?" He looked to the HR woman-- "Yes, Dr. Abbott, your
very good
friend and colleague. We'll have some pointed questions for her, too."
"You fucker." He went to the door, but Cheap Suit had already moved there and blocked it. The man was big, nearly as big as Herk. "You going to arrest me now? You're not even a cop."
Cheap Suit put his hands up, reaching for him. He stepped back, guarding his backpack. He knew next to nothing about self-defense except for a brief karate class years ago. But he thought of what she would say if he backed down.
"Wait, wait." It was the HR woman. "Ryan, you can't do this." So now he knew DOE's name, at least the fucker's first name. She inserted herself between Jake and Cheap Suit. "Here." She thrust the folder into Jake's hands. "Read this, okay? You won't like it, but you need to know what they're saying. Find a lawyer. This is serious, Jake." To DOE and Herk: "You need to follow procedure."
DOE nodded to Cheap Suit. "Fine.
Doctor
Calvino. Don't go anywhere. We'll be keeping tabs on you. Don't take too long."
# # #
Jake strode out quickly while every eye in the office followed him. He almost tossed the folder in the trash along the way. Outside the building he made himself walk without hurrying, trying to settle himself down. The folder was sweaty in his hand. It was like holding a bag of dog poo, or rotten garbage. He moved it to his other hand and kept going, automatically, toward his apartment. At a street corner he stopped and looked around. Everything looked the same. But everything was different.
Glancing back, he noticed a figure behind him, a large male figure in a suit. His anger, which had subsided a bit, rose again. The light at the intersection turned green, but he didn't cross. He turned the corner and walked down the sidewalk. Halfway down he looked back. The same figure was behind him. It was like being in some spy movie. Which gave him an idea.
He took out his phone.
Trouble. I'm being followed,
he sent to the number she'd given him. It was the first time he'd tried it. He wasn't sure it would even work.
But she immediately called him. "What's wrong?" He explained the situation as quickly as he could. He wanted to run, but forced himself to keep a steady pace. "Where are you?" she asked. "Where are you heading?"
"Home."
"Don't go home. Go to a mall. Get lost in the crowd. You know the place we met the agent?"
"Yes. You mean--"
"Don't say it. Just go there after you're sure you're not being followed. I'll meet you. Stay out of sight. Turn your phone off."
He wasn't sure how well he could tell he wasn't being followed. He wasn't a spy or detective. There wasn't a shopping mall close to the campus, just a few streets with shops and cafes. And then he'd have to get to the hotel, not by his car, because it was parked at his place. Which gave him a plan. He turned back into the campus and found a shuttle stop. The University maintained its own shuttle service to satellite campuses around the city. He watched for Cheap Suit, didn't see him, but didn't trust his ability to tell for sure. Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.
At least when the shuttle came, he could verify that Cheap Suit didn't get on it with him. He watched out the window, scrunched down in his seat, as the van pulled out, didn't see anything, but didn't know if that meant success. At the first stop in the satellite campus he was lost, but luckily it happened to be downtown and not far from Secret Agent's hotel. He took side streets and zigzagged, although he couldn't imagine how he could have been followed on foot. But they would know the shuttle schedule. He went into the lobby and found a seat in a corner.
He skimmed over the documents in the folder. It was about what he'd expected, a list of the obsolete equipment he bought, some BS about their value, an admission of guilt that he refused to read, more pages too repulsive even to look at. He felt disgusted and depressed. Again he wanted to toss the whole thing in the garbage.
She showed up eventually. He wasn't sure what to do. She saw him and motioned for him to stay put. She was dressed in a modest business suit and carried a large bag. It looked like she was checking in, and when she was done a motion of her head told him to join her. They rode the elevator up together. At the end of the corridor she opened the door and let them into a suite. She put the bag down, came to him, and gave him a quick hug.
"What happened? You're sure you weren't followed?"
He gave her a quick summary and showed her the folder, which he was glad he hadn't trashed. She scanned the papers quickly. "They're getting close," she said.
"What do you mean? Who's 'they'?"
"We don't know."
"And let me guess. You can't tell me." She didn't answer. "The DOE asshole, Ryan whatever, just wanted to throw me in jail." He pointed to the folder, which she'd tossed on a side table. "If I don't sign everything away."
She ignored his remarks. "You promised to show me." He knew what she meant. It was his turn not to reply. "I can help you. I think I can. I think I know what's going on. But I need to see it. What you built. I need to verify."
After a moment he answered, quietly, "Okay."
"Good." She pointed to his backpack. "You have the computer? Good. Don't connect to anything."
