Faasp Hospital Read online

  His gaze darted back and forth. “Thanks for coming in.”

  “Sure. Any time.

  “I have a deadline.”

  He nodded.

  I left, feeling baffled, and relieved. What would Donald do with Ray? Another thought popped into my head. If Ray was valuable, Donald might fire me.

  Tuesday morning, I reached my office.

  Across the hall, Wenda stepped out of hers, frowning.

  I waved.

  She walked toward me and whispered. “A moment ago, Angie, an RN, told me Dr. Haar recently interviewed a man from Twobin, an IT company.”

  I scowled. “Did she say anything about them replacing us?”

  “No. It was a short conversation. She didn’t have enough time to give more details.”

  My mind went into overdrive, trying to figure out what Dr. Haar was doing. “Will she tell you more?”

  Wenda sighed. “I’ll call her and ask.”

  I thanked my colleague.

  That afternoon, my phone rang.

  Wenda murmured, “According to Angie, Frank, the man from Twobin, is a web designer. His company won’t replace ours.”

  I paused, relieved. “Thank you for the information.”

  “No problem.”

  My jaw muscles tightened, nervous. “Are there any Twobin coders who can replace us?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She hesitated. “No.”

  “If they are paid less, Dr. Haar or somebody else in Faasp might hire them, and tell Donald that he along with other Ahantech employees are no longer needed.”

  “It’s possible, but I hope not.”

  I sighed, thanked her for calling, and hung up. Should I call Donald, talk to him about Twobin? No. He was under too much pressure.

  Friday morning, Linda sat next to my desk, an impromptu visit, scowling.

  I shifted in my chair, wondering why she had come here. Wanting polite conversation, not an argument, I paused, weighing options. “How are you?”

  “Lousy.”

  I winced, surprised. “Why do you say that?”

  “Yesterday, Donald called me, said I should come to his office. After I arrived, he said that someone told him my coding had caused problems.”

  I hesitated, adrenaline pumping, shocked. “Did he say who that someone was?”

  “No.”

  “Why didn’t you ask?”

  “I was scared. He looked pissed off.”

  My stomach muscles jerked, a frustrated reaction. “Keep going.”

  “He told me to slow down. I said that was a good idea. He smiled and sent me back to my office.”

  I grinned. “Thanks for telling me.”

  Her face lit up. “Thanks for listening.”

  I offered a thumbs-up.

  She hurried away.

  I clenched my fist, irritated, guessing Ray had complained about Linda’s coding. However, my estimation could be wrong. Either way, there was nothing I could do to stop this.

  Chapter Ten

  Wednesday afternoon, someone knocked on my office door.

  I raised an eyebrow, wondering who it was, stood up, and opened it.

  Ray blurted, “Donald just hired one of my friends, Nate.”

  Next to him, a handsome man with chiseled features smirked.

  I flinched, caught off guard. “Congratulations.”

  Ray glared at me. “See ya. You should quit.” Both of them walked off.

  I winced. According to a search, Nate Tell had undergrad and graduates degrees in Nanotechnology from Daog College along with a Bachelors in Computer Science from Teil College. For the past two and a half years he worked for Sai.

  In my imagination, a worst-case scenario, Donald pointed at pages of my code, then told me there were too many mistakes. What could I say if he mentioned that?

  Nothing, arguing would only make him angry. Tonight, after everyone left, I would update my resume. Who would hire me? It was hard to tell. On Saturday, my only day off, I would search for a new job.

  Friday morning, somebody knocked on my office door.

  Chills ran down my spine, a paranoid reaction. Nobody called, told me they would drop by. “Come in.”

  An attractive black woman, a tall lady with a serious expression on her face reached out. “I’m Cindy Washington.”

  I grinned and shook her hand.

  “Donald hired me, yesterday.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.”

  I nodded.

  She offered a smile. “I have to go, start on a project.”

  I told her to drop by anytime.

  Cindy left.

  Was she Ray’s friend? I exhaled, angry with myself because this important question hadn’t come to mind until now. According to a web search, she received her undergraduate and graduate degrees in Biology from Tyoo University. Later on, this colleague earned a Bachelors’ in Computer Science from Hinwu College. She had worked at Innopt Corporation, Innovations in Optics, for two years, an impressive feat. I sat and typed, worried about making errors.

  Within the hour, my phone rang.

  Wenda said, “A few minutes ago, Ray told me Twobin might hire employees that would replace us.”

  I scowled. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why would they speak to him, a stranger who doesn’t work for them?”

  “Dr. Haar or Dr. Sanchez might have told him.”

  “That doesn’t sound right. They would talk to Donald about this, not Ray.”

  “Maybe. On the other hand, Donald likes Ray, could have shared this information with him.

  “Hi.

  “We’ll talk later.” She hung up.

  I blinked, shocked that she ended the call abruptly, something this friend had never done to me before.

  Chapter Eleven

  Wednesday, at dusk, my phone rang.

  Donald blurted, “Come to my office.”

  My body went cold, a paranoid response. “Okay.” I stood and entered the hall.

  Close by, Nate glanced at Val.

  She winked at him. “You’re a great lover.”

  He blew her a kiss.

  I passed them, teeth clenched, jealous.

  I sat, palms sweating, terrified.

  He frowned. “Twobin just hired Ray.”

  I flinched. “Wow.”

  “I’m as shocked you are.”

  I rubbed my chin, nervous.

  “My guess, based on a lack of information, is that he will help them create a better version of Medxao.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  He nodded, an angry expression on his face.

  Why was my boss telling me, a new employee, one he had mixed feelings about? “Will Linda take his place?”

  “No.”

  I hesitated, baffled by his comment. “What about Nate?”

  He glowered. “No. You’re the best candidate.”

  I grinned, surprised. Another possibility, a stressful one, popped into my head. Other staff would call me whenever anything went wrong. Shivers ran down my spine.

  Tuesday morning, I sat in Donald’s office, keeping an appointment, wondering what he wanted.

  He glowered. “Last night, Ray called and told me Twobin’s lawyer will take us to court for copyright infringement. According to him, Medxao is too similar to their software, Planoob.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Medxao had been around much longer than Planoob.

  He scowled. “I agree.”

  I frowned. “Is he trying to frighten us, slow down our ability to perfect Medxao?”

  “That’s my guess.”

  My adrenaline pumped harder. “Why didn’t he tell the lawyer to call us? That would be more frightening.”

  Donald’s cheek tightened. “He probably doesn’t have enough money to hire one.”r />
  I nodded. “Is Nate or anyone else in Ahantech sending Medxao code to Ray?”

  He grimaced. “I’ve been thinking about that. However, it’s hard to prove.”

  I sighed. “If you asked them, they could lie.”

  He exhaled, a frustrated expression on his face. “Exactly.” He thanked me for coming in.

  I left.

  Thursday, several hours before dawn, while sleeping on my cot, I blinked, woken up by a noise. It was coming from nearby. I jumped up and flung the door open.

  Across the hall, outside Cindy’s office, a dimly lit figure with a hood glanced over one shoulder at me.

  I shouted, “What are you doing?”

  The stranger, their face hidden in darkness, turned to the right, and sprinted away.

  I raced toward them.

  They veered left and went down another corridor.

  I went in that direction.

  Ahead, beyond waist-high carts, an indigo silhouette, barely noticeable in the dim light, ran around a corner.

  I tripped over a chair and landed on the floor, sweating, angry that the intruder had escaped.

  I reached Cindy’s door and flinched. It was partly open. I called Don. Voicemail switched on.

  He yawned. “Who is it?”

  I answered and mentioned the break in. He said he would be here soon.

  I dialed Cindy’s number.

  A recording started. I left a message.

  Within minutes, a security guard and Donald arrived.

  The guard examined the entrance to her office, a door with a keypad. “The burglar might have used a slim jim or lock out nanorobots to open this.”

  According to my phone search, on many occasions, burglars used a slim jim, one that disconnected levers and rods. Skilled vandals updated simple nanorobot’s code, creating lock out nanorobots. But the article didn’t say who was capable of doing this.

  The guard asked what noise woke me up.

  I answered.

  He frowned. “That’s not much to go on. Don’t you remember anything else?”

  “No.”

  Donald scowled and glanced at me. “Let’s take a short walk.”

  I nodded.

  He glowered. “Ray might not know that guard, but it’s hard to tell. Anyway, someone is desperate.”

  “Yes.”

  Cindy showed up, a terrified look on her face and thanked me for calling.

  We headed for her office.

  The guard took photographs, then said police would scan for fingerprints and DNA remnants, and told us to stay out of her office until the investigation was complete.

  Donald asked him to put in a second lock, an expensive deadbolt that couldn’t be picked, on every Ahantech employee’s door.

  The guard said he would think about it.

  Donald scowled.

  That evening, my phone rang.

  Nate blurted, “I’m in the Faasp parking lot. Somebody just slashed my tires.”

  I blinked. “Did you tell Donald?”

  “Yes, a few minutes ago.” He told me this area was under around-the-clock camera surveillance.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning, Donald and I entered Room Nine, keeping an appointment. Because every Faasp employee’s infrared signature was on a database, surveillance cameras might help us identify the vandal.

  Rita, an experienced guard, pushed keys.

  On screen, Nate’s black sedan, a dimly lit shape that was difficult to see in the dark, focused.

  Rita leaned forward, studying the image. “This was taken two hours, eight minutes after midnight.”

  I stared, flinching.

  Next to the front wheel, a human silhouette crouched.

  Donald squinted. “Can you enlarge that?”

  “Sure. They’re wearing a ski mask. It’s impossible to ID them.”

  I frowned. “That didn’t help.”

  Donald sighed. “You’re right.”

  Nate blurted, “I hate this.”

  My jaw muscles tightened. “I don’t like it either.”

  Rita said, “Their infrared signature isn’t on the database. That’s the best we can do for now. I’ll check with police. They’ll scan for fingerprints and DNA.”

  Donald gritted his teeth. “We should keep copies of our work on flash drives and store them in different locations.”

  I nodded. Although this time consuming effort might protect our files from thieves, the effort would slow us down.

  Nate shook his head. “More trouble.”

  The next evening, my phone rang.

  Donald said, “The only fingerprints the police found on Cindy’s door or in her office were hers.”

  “What about DNA?”

  He sighed. “They only found hair and a few pieces of skin. All of them are Cindy’s.”

  “Did they find out who broke into Nate’s car?”

  “No.”

  I hesitated, my mind in overdrive, feeling helpless.

  Saturday morning, a few days later, I entered my apartment, reading snail mail, a once a week ritual. A desktop was empty, no sign of my laptop computer. I turned and entered my bedroom, searching for it. My thoughts raced, wondering where the CPU was. After opening drawers, I blinked. Someone had stolen it.

  Damn!

  I called Gary, the apartment manager, and told him about the theft.

  Gary and a policeman named Ben entered.

  I shook the officer’s hand. “Thanks for coming. Are you going to scan for fingerprints and DNA?”

  “Yes.”

  I called Donald. His voicemail switched on. I left a message.

  Ben frowned. “Justin, do you have any idea who did this?”

  I scowled. “Maybe.” I told him about my projects at Faasp.

  He typed and asked me to describe the stolen property.

  Donald arrived. We walked.

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “My guess is they want to keep me from finishing Medxao.”

  Donald scowled. “Was there any valuable information on your laptop that the intruder could use to improve the software?”

  “I don’t know. It’s hard to remember.”

  “Is it protected by a password?”

  “Yes.” I flinched.

  “Is it hard to crack?”

  I nodded.

  Donald glowered. “They might tear it apart and try to steal data.”

  “Maybe.” It was hard to destroy a hard drive’s information unless you smashed or burned it to a crisp.

  Donald paused, a worried look on his face. “It could have been a random burglary. A neighbor noticed you weren’t around.”

  “It’s possible, but I don’t think so.”

  We headed for my apartment door.

  Ben probed the area with a handheld scanner. “Justin, after this is analyzed, we’ll call you. Don’t go inside until I’m finished. This will take a few hours.”

  I nodded, adrenaline pumping.

  Monday afternoon, my phone rang.

  Ben spoke, “We only found your hair and fingerprints.”

  I flinched. Hair was the best way to determine someone’s DNA. The intruder had worn gloves along with clothing that didn’t leave any particles. “They didn’t leave any heel or sole fragments?”

  “Our scanners can’t detect those.”

  I thanked him his efforts and my mind sped up, trying to figure out how we could catch these robbers.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Wednesday afternoon, after struggling with Medxao for five weeks, my phone rang.

  Donald said, “Dr. Haar just told me that Faasp bought Portsi, software that is superior to Medxao.”

  I blinked. “Is he going to fire every Ahantech employee?”

  Donald cleared his throat, a nervous habit. “It’s hard to say. I’ll call you the minute I find out. Anyway, download Portsi onto your hard drive and use it, r
ight now.”

  The next morning, Donald entered my office. “I hate telling you this, but every Ahantech will be laid off in two weeks.”

  I cringed. “What should I do in the meantime?”

  “Keep working on your current project.”

  “Who will replace us?”

  “Dr. Haar didn’t tell me.”

  “I thought he trusted us.”

  “So did I.”

  The following Tuesday, at daybreak, Portsi crashed, destroying every file I had created in the last few days. I called Donald.

  “Yes.”

  I told him about the problem.

  He hesitated. “I hate telling Dr. Haar about this.”

  “Would he think I’m doing it on purpose, trying to save my job?”

  “It’s hard to say. I’ll be there in a minute. After I arrive, tell me what happened before it crashed.”

  I pointed at the screen and described my recent efforts.

  He scowled. “The source code is complex. It could take weeks, months, or years to figure out what’s wrong. I’ll go to my office and call Dr. Haar.”

  Within the hour, my phone rang.

  Donald cleared his throat. “He said that every Ahantech employee should keep using Portsi.”

  “Isn’t that ridiculous?”

  “It was his decision, not mine.”

  That evening, my phone rang.

  Donald spoke, “Store each Portsi file on a storage drive every ten minutes. Otherwise, you’ll lose important data.”

  I exhaled, relieving tension. “Got it. Will every Ahantech employee have to do this?”

  “Yes.”

  At dusk, the second to last day on my job, the phone rang.

  Donald said, “Dr. Haar is going keep every Ahantech employee.”

  I chortled. “This is nuts.”

  “These things happen. Anyway, use Medxao, not Portsi.”

  I scowled. “Why did Dr. Haar change his mind?”

  “He didn’t tell me. According to Marsha, an assistant to the CFO, although Portsi is inexpensive, it’s full of bugs.”