Day 7 (Payroll)

4 Payroll

``I can't believe it, I saw him just last week.''

``Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.'' Grant said. He meant it,
too - when he'd managed to get ahold of someone at Vervicom who
hadn't yet gone home for the day, he'd been pretty upbeat about
it. What he'd neglected to mention over the phone was the reason
he wanted to talk to Caster's colleagues.

The co-worker Grant was talking to now, David, was shaking his
head slowly as though he wasn't quite understanding the
situation. It had been David who'd been fortunate - or
unfortunate - enough to answer Grant's call. The former had been
more than willing to discuss the late doctor, and had told the
reporter to meet up at a bar where they all, as a group,
sometimes went out after work.

``What am I going to tell them?'' David said, glancing over at
the half-dozen other co-workers who were frequenting the place.
When Grant had first arrived Dave had pulled him away from the
rest of the group in order to not be overheard, apparently under
the impression that Dr. Caster would be arriving soon. Wynn was
less than happy to have to inform him this would not be the case.

``Again, I have to apologize,'' Grant said in his most serious
reporter voice. ``I should have made myself more clear over the
phone earlier today.'' He'd been at this job for years but in
moments like this he still ended up feeling awkward.

``So...'' David paused. ``I guess... what questions do you have?''

``Anything you can tell me about Dr. Caster.''

``James. Or Jim.'' Dave smiled somewhat. ``He always insisted on
us using his first name. He said that if everyone in research
insisted on everyone else using their full titles, every other
spoken word would end up being 'Doctor'.''

Grant never went anywhere without a notepad and a writing
implement. Though he preferred making even rough drafts on
computer, he could never find anything portable enough for him to
take notes electronically and wasn't a voice recorder. In his
experience, recording equipment put people off. A pad of paper
and a pen, though, that was damn near expected. He jotted down a
note on the one he'd grabbed from his desk when he left the
office, and followed it up with, ``So how long did he work at
Vervicom?''

``I actually don't know,'' David admitted. ``I was hired on after
him. Maybe ten years or so?''

In truth Grant knew Dr. Caster's exact dates of employment or
would very soon, as the public employee profile was on its way to
his fax machine at the office, if the secretary he'd spoken to at
Vervicom was at all reliable. Given that she hadn't sounded at
all like any of those they'd had at the Gazette, this was likely
to be the case. He'd only asked David the question because he
found it to be a good lead-in question. Get them talking about
the person he was interested in.

``Actually, it's kinda funny, the only reason I have any idea is
because of the story.'' David had apparently misinterpreted
Grant's silence and had decided to fill the void.

``What sto-'' The reporter began, but David was already out of
the booth they'd been occupying and across the room to his other
compatriots. Before Grant had a chance to stand up, he'd returned
with one of them.

``This is Patrick,'' he said, gesturing to the slightly
bewildered newcomer, ``Pat, tell him about how James got hired.''

Patrick glanced toward the door. ``Caster's usually in by now, he
can tell the story.''

What little cheer David had gained from reminiscing vanished
then, his formerly recovering expression replaced by a shadow
that Grant recognized having seen before, and recently. ``Oh
hell,'' Dave muttered. ``Okay, get the rest of the guys over
here.''

A few moments of awkward maneuvering in order to get all those
from the company who attended the bar in the same general area
were followed by moments of more awkward silence when David broke
the news.

``Car accident?'' Patrick had piped up. ``That man was a more
cautious driver than me, and these guys refuse to let me drive
anywhere because I'm too slow.''

This admission was greeted with a chorus of agreement.

Grant felt entirely self conscious leaning forward, but it
couldn't be helped. He was here for a story, after all. Right now
he was their only source of information and he wasn't going to
fail them. He hoped, desperately, that wanting something in
return didn't make him a wholly despicable person. ``It wasn't
his fault, he was hit by a streetcar, the brakes failed.''

Everyone took this in quietly, and another silence filled the
gap.

``So you're writing a story about him?'' Patrick was once again
brave enough to speak up.

``Yes, we're covering the incidents that happened during the
outage.'' At least, he added silently, those of us foolish enough
to travel during it are getting such assignments.

``Tell him the story.'' David said, suddenly remembering why he'd
called Pat over.

``The payroll story? I don't know, he always told it better than
me.''

``It doesn't have to go in the paper,'' Grant said reassuringly.
He wasn't sure if they were reluctant to talk because they didn't
wish to speak ill of the dead, or simply because they didn't want
to remind themselves of it at all. Whatever the reason, his
statement did the trick.

``All right.'' Pat said, sitting up. ``I always get picked to
tell this story anyway, because I was in payroll when it
happened. I wasn't part of the department, you know, I was just
one of the people who coded up the system. Anyway, you know when
he started working with us, right?''

``About a decade ago,'' Grant said, dutifully referring to his
notes. This appeared to be the right answer, because Pat smiled.

``Ah, no! That's what everyone thinks, because that's what the
records say. He actually came on board about two years after his
supposed start date.''
[(0x0008) Caster's reputation in academia would have allowed him
to recreate the experiments far sooner, thus bringing VonCannon
back into an incompatible environment. This was an eventually
successful attempt at separating him from it.]

``I should have remembered.'' David remarked in a tone that
indicated he'd slipped up quite a bit. ``Here I am, he asks me
when Jim started working and I think I'll tell him the story, but
I don't even remember that part. That's why I had you tell it,
Pat, because you remember the details.''

``Be glad you don't,'' Patrick replied, ``I only remember them
because I caught hell.''

``I'm still not sure I'm following.'' Grant didn't like to
interrupt when people were giving him information, but thus far
it wasn't making a great deal of sense. ``He was working there
but he hadn't started yet?''

``No, he was getting paid for working for Vervicom; he was on
Payroll's roster, but he didn't actually work here. Still worked
for the university at that point, if I recall.'' Pat revealed
this with a tone that underscored the trouble this had caused
him. ``We couldn't even track down how his entry had got into the
system. Wouldn't have even known it if he hadn't been getting the
paychecks returned.''

``I remember that.'' one of the other co-workers whose name Grant
hadn't caught interjected. ``There was some kind of inquiry at
his university about it, they thought he was working for industry
and having a post there, but he wasn't, or something along those
lines.''

``They cleared him.'' Pat clarified. ``But we caught hell. The
returned paychecks weren't that big a deal, nobody except
accounting really noticed them and, just between us, they don't
ask too many questions when the money's flowing in rather than
out. When the local university suddenly has evidence that you've
been trying to buy their people off, that's when it hits the fan.''

``So how did you fix the situation?'' Grant asked.

Dave laughed. ``They hired him.''

Pat paused to consider this. ``It sounds trite, but it's really
what happened. Every time we took him out of the system, he'd end
up back in it a week or two later. It got to the point we had to
write in a special exception, just for him. Meanwhile there were
people at his university that still didn't trust him, so when he
decided to jump ship a year or so later I guess he figured he'd
go to the place that, at least as far as the computers were
concerned, he already worked.''

``That's quite an interesting story.'' Grant replied, writing as
he went. It was interesting and at the same time bizarre, which
typified a great deal of events happening to him lately. ``I'd
have to say, as a recruitment tool, it's hard to beat.''

``Sure,'' Pat agreed, ``and it even opens up the job position by
getting the poor bastard in payroll fired, eh?''

The group laughed at that, and it seemed the earlier awkwardness
had just begun to dissipate when David brought it back.

``It was great to her Jim tell that story.'' he said wistfully. ``
He always used to act like he was so panicked about the
disciplinary board.''

David's eyes widened as he tried to impersonate the doctor. ``
When I heard the committee was meeting to discuss me, suddenly I
was going through all the students in my mind who wanted to pin
something on me! Jenkins has it in for me, Maria's hated me ever
since I turned down her thesis, I've got a campus full of people
who want me out!''

The group laughed at this, too, but sadly. Grant knew this stage
well, everything would remind them of Dr. Caster: The journalist
asking questions about him probably most so.

``Shame we didn't see much of him these past few months.'' Dave
continued, seemingly lost in his own thoughts and unaware of the
effect his statement had had on his compatriots.

``It was some project he was on, right? He didn't say much about
it, but from what I gathered it was pretty confidential. One of
those NDA things.'' the nameless co-worker who'd spoken up before
had done so once more. If he talked any longer, Grant thought
ruefully, he was going to have to find out his name. That would
be yet more awkwardness he did not need.

David was shaking his head. ``I guess I can talk about this now,
but it wasn't NDA stuff, he was doing personal work. Remember
that bit of junk he made earlier this year?''

This question was met with embarrassed silence, as though
everyone else was realizing that they were at this point, indeed,
speaking ill of the dead.

``I didn't mean it like that,'' Dave continued shortly. ``But you
know what I mean. The box with the frayed wires, the one that
disappointed everyone.''

``He said he'd worked for months on it.'' Patrick said, not
making eye contact with anyone.

David nodded, encouraged. ``That was the thing, though. He said
it was working, that disappointing people was what it was
supposed to do.'' he shook his head. ``Anyway, the new project
was something related to that.''

Pat looked up. ``You know who that reminds me of, now you mention
it?'' he had the semi-desperate tone of voice those who have
thought of a plan to change the subject and are hurriedly
implementing it. ``That crazy old colleague of his from his
college days.''

Dave looked blankly at him.

``It was before your time,'' Patrick informed him, as though such
information were reassuring. ``Apparently the doc tried to keep
in touch with those of his old co-workers as would still talk to
him. There was one in particular he talked to a fair amount, but
then after maybe a few years they had this terrible argument over
the phone, you could hear them on other floors.''

``I do remember that!'' Dave interrupted suddenly. ``That was on
my second day! I remember worrying I was working for a drill
instructor or something.''

``I looked him up, actually,'' Pat said, ``because I knew that
kind of reaction wasn't like Jim at all. I wondered if maybe we
were going to have to deal with a stalker or something. I don't
remember the name now, it was Von... something.''

``Oh yeah, I remember this,'' Mystery Worker spoke up. ``It was
VonCannon.''

``What?'' Grant said, forgetting his earlier admonition to
himself to not interrupt. He tried to cover his slip-up by
adding, ``I'm sorry, I didn't catch that name.''

``VonCannon'' the man with no name said again. ``I remember the
'Cannon' part, seemed appropriate for the reaction he got out of
James.''

Patrick was nodding. ``That's the guy. Some strange hermit,
working out of an industrial area downtown. I remember thinking
he was a stalker for a while, but nothing happened.''

Until yesterday, Grant found himself thinking.

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