The Unexpected
Copyright© 2025 by Technocracy
Chapter 17
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 17 - "If you do not expect the unexpected, you will not find it; for it is hard to be sought out, and difficult." -- Heraclitus of Ephesus
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Violence
[Writer’s Note – Again, a condensation and compression of 3.5 original chapters, as I seek a shorter route to my ultimate point. To quote the great Khan Noonien Singh, “From hell’s heart, I stab at thee. For hate’s sake, I spit my last breath at thee.” It’s a tough job being an asshole, but someone has to do it.]
SIG, 60 Dedham Ave, Needham, Ma - 10 Jan 2006
Harry and Benny were in the largest office of SIG, sitting in expensive chairs, across from an expensive desk, which Marissa Mayer sat behind, in an expensive chair. Harry and Benny exhibited no concern, and were waiting to provide a minimal, and scripted, rebuttal to the Google executive’s explanation of prior behavior. They listened to Mayer with feigned interest and patience.
“ ... and finally, Nancy found several CAT-five cross-over cables next to the two aux trade servers. Do you deny these self-enriching trades?”
“What is your point, Ms Mayer? I already said that Harry and myself were doing off-hours trading, so as to not consume bandwidth that would be required during normal operating hours.”
“Google techs have tracked three servers running at over 80% capacity for almost 94 hours over the holiday shutdown.”
“That would be correct. What is your point?”
“Benson, we are paying you and Harrison to advise, to make the senior executives a return superior to that provided by ‘professional’ investors. One, I do not like the deceptive off-hours practices. And Two, you should have included the Google fund in parallel trades.”
“We made several attempts to notify yourself and the Google fund manager. But we were denied use of Google accounts. So we self-funded the REIT exchange into a wholesale broker.”
“We have no record that you requested Google funds.”
“That is not correct, Ms Mayer. You were so informed.”
“I was not. Your contract, as is Doctor Spoons’ contract, is terminated for breach of terms. Here is the legal notification, please note the references per the behavior and trade protocol clauses. You will need to remove personal effects from your office.”
Benny was stoic, deadpanned, showing no signs of stress. Harry was the same, perhaps with less stoicism, and a little leer of disgust. Benny and Harry calmly signed the corporate copy of their contractual dismissal papers. Mayer handed the two men their copies of the notification, signed by Eric Schmidt, to Harry and Benny. A second document, signed by Mayer, indicated the material terms of the breach, to include a recovery of residuals and personal property.
“Ms Mayer, we will need a representative of Google to inventory the personal affects removed from our offices.”
“Google security team members are waiting in your offices. They have inventory forms.”
“Thank you, Ms, Mayer. Have a good day.”
Marissa Mayer was a bit more than nonplussed. She had not expected Benny’s, and certainly not Harry’s equanimity. Mayer entertained a fleeting thought that she had been set up. This thought was dismissed. Mayer could not imagine that, between her on-site tracking, enabled by Benny’s own security system designs, plus the lead counsel’s over-sight and business acumen, that they had missed anything. In any case, she was relieved that the termination of their contracts has been without incident, and that she would now be free to use the trading systems as the Google finance group saw fit.
“Doctor Harrison, you cannot take that computer.”
Benny smirked at the Google ‘Men In Black’ security officer.
“It is my personal property, and has personal files. Please so note the model and serial of the computer that you are saying is Google property.”
“I’m sorry sir, if it’s not on my list, it can’t be removed from the office.”
“Understood. Write it down and affix your signature to my copy. Also, there is my bicycle downstairs, which is also not on your list.”
“Sorry sir, perhaps we should talk to Ms Mayer.”
Benny grabbed the framed picture from his desktop corner, and his bicycle pack from beneath his desk.
“Do not bother calling her. Just add it to the list of denied material, and we are done. Please escort me to the exit.”
The Google ‘Man-In-Black’ had ran security for several employee terminations, thus having an extreme dislike for the procedure. To his uneasy pleasure, he saw that Dr Harrison was like no other dismissal. It was beyond comprehension as to why the man being removed was pleasant, almost happy.
Harry pulled to the front of 60 Dedham Avenue, waiting for Benny to get into his truck.
“Thanks, Harry. Talk to Robert yet?”
“Yep. He’s surprised that they acted so quickly, and did it without a lawyer on-site. Did your security ape sign everything? My ape put it all on the dotted line.”
“The poor fool signed and annotated everything. Shall we go to the farm?”
“What about Mason?”
“He will be out tomorrow, as will Robert and Henry. What about Doris?”
“Don’t know, Benny. We talked about it last night. As of this morning, she’ll hang out until they fire her.”
“And if Google does not terminate Doris?”
Harry put the truck into gear and turned onto the street as he answered.
“Then my lovely wife will be our inside person.”
Google HQ, 1600 Amphitheatre Parkway, Mountain View, California - January 27, 2006
Marissa Mayer sat away from the small conference table in Eric Schmidt’s office, while she was being talked about in the third person. The senior legal counsel had delivered a dire picture of the Google Corporation’s few options.
“Both Marissa Mayer and Brian Mulhairain had been served with a civil notification for a failure to preserve a contractual basis per Massachusetts statue, and for fraud per self-enrichment by the confiscation of personal and real properties.”
Larry Page pointed to a stack of legal documents on the conference table, to interrupt the lawyer with, what he considered a salient point.
“They knew this was coming. These legal actions were pre-planned.”
Eric Schmidt’s reaction was swift and not intended to sooth the ruffled feathers of his executives’ egos.
“I don’t care if it was, in fact, contrived and designed to force change. She screwed it up. The message traffic and records clearly indicate that they asked for funding three times during the preceding weeks, twice informally via email, and once via the formal ledger request. At this point, we will not bother to deal with the subsequent three constructive dismissals of key personnel. What must be dealt with, in a timely manner, are the two contractual failures to perform on our part, and an illegal seizure of property, to which the Needham police are investigating as larceny.”
Sergey Brin had an extreme dislike for messy legal issues. His body language affirmed his distate for the proceedings as he slumped in his chair. Sergey missed the simple excitement of the early days when it was just himself and his friend, Larry Page, and a few others. He sighed as he asked the obvious question of the lawyer.
“Jerry, if they will not come back, and both Harrison and Spoons seek full compense, are we bound by Delaware, or Massachusetts law?”
The lawyer reflected on Sergey Brin’s sigh as he quietly intoned the reply.
“Mass, and only Mass.”
Larry Page locked eyes with his lover. He knew that Sergey had told Marissa to grab this opportunity and move fast, and grow the small investment company. But it was obvious she had moved too fast in shoving the founders out for a disabused cause. Marissa was among the most intelligent people Larry had ever known, but this time, he realized that Marissa was in over her head. Larry decided to directly involve his office. In part because he wanted to support his lover, but also because he wanted to benefit from the investment prowess of these rare MIT academics. He thus made a strong suggestion to Eric Schmidt, the man that he and Sergey had brought in to be the adult in the room.
“Eric, let’s keep SIG intact, and on their own terms. We should re-negotiate their contracts. I believe that it is important to keep Harrison and Spoons under our roof. Perhaps I should go back east with Marissa. The two of us would provide a united front.”
“You cannot afford the time, Larry.”
“I know, Eric. I certainly do know that. But look at it this way, if we continue down this path, any legal settlement with them would cost another twenty or thirty million, most likely much more. That’s good money for no return. Not to mention the estimated 120 million in lost opportunity from when Marissa’s investment fund managers failed to approve the account needed to stand up a third REIT.”
“Can we trust them, Larry?”
“Can they trust us, Eric? Marissa took away their agency. Tried to push them into markets and areas they did not want to go into. Marissa would be ill-advised to attempt any legal defense.”
Schmidt’s response was defensive, as he did used to having the tables turned around on him.
“Trust is implied through the acquisition contract, Larry. Legally, we should be beyond reproach.”
Larry Page, with almost a sneer to his CEO, decided to drop a bomb on the man, letting him know that he did, in fact, know what was going on in the darker corners of the Google Corporation.
“And, yes, it has been made known to me about those Goldman Sachs servers doing parallel runs for the intelligence community - a rather significant breach of trust on our part...”
Larry Page stood to face Eric Schmidt, now pacing across the room, to make his final point.
“Look at it this way, Eric. We are the party that entered into this relationship with tainted and unknown goods, whereas SIG came to us with honest intent and a fully developed and proven product.”
Mayer’s jaw tightened at the brutal honesty of her lover’s situational assessment, but also recognized that Larry Page had thrown her a life preserver.
Eric Schmidt continued to pace away from the conference table, stopping to look out his large office window. Schmidt knew that the board of directors would have things to say about a failed 200 million dollar acquisition. Schmidt further surmised that Larry Page was correct, settling with them would be a waste of the chance to evolve and be an insider in the finance world, thus expanding the growing Google corporate empire.
What neither the Google board members, nor Larry, nor Sergey, or anyone knew, was that Eric Schmidt had big plans for SIG; as he had devolved a ‘grand unified’ theory for a unique horizontal business model. A scaled approach to efficiencies never before imagined in economic theory. Eric Schmidt’s vision was as radical as was Harry Spoons’ PhD thesis, but had no basis in any mathematical models. His decision was made, but it still bothered him that the SAIC scientists and engineers had been unable to duplicate the SIG trading systems in toto. Schmidt’s decision was not based on doing the right thing, it was based on the forbearance of economic realities.
“Go to Boston, Larry. And do not get blinded by their bucolic appearance and utilitarian existence. Marissa, be flexible and allow them more than just their monetary agency. Allow them to dream big without pushing them in too many different directions. Do you remember what I told you?”
“Yes, Eric. To make you much money. And I will.”
“Then do it, Marissa. Take the Gulfstream. Leave Sunday.”
The Farm, Littleton, Ma - January 29, 2006
Robert accepted his third beer from Harry, not really caring, as he had no plans for the next day, forecast to be, yet another, cold and grizzled January New England Monday. Benny threw another log into the fireplace as he continued his questions to Henry.
“ ... and Doris is certain about that?”
“She got it from Nancy, whom showed her the message.”
“Robert, will you contact the chief of police?”
“Already did. It’s all arranged, my good man. The cat is in the bag, their curiosity killed the cat, they’ll be like a cat on a hot tin roof, we’ll be grinning like a chesire cat, they will have kittens...”
“Saints, Harry. No more alcohol for Robert.”
Robert smiled at his half-drunken cleverness, but continued in a more lawyerly manner.
“Benson, my man, the chief went to the DA last week to set it up. It’s a done deal. Our police department is paid for and in our hip pocket.”
Benny grimaced at the thought of being considered part of a corruption scheme. He knew the lawyer’s comment was alcohol-fueled hyperbole, but it did not sit well.
“Robert, if the criminal legal stuff does not force them to capitulate, what will civil court cost us - in both time and money?”
Robert lost his stupid smile as he turned serious.
“Benson, I would prefer that we not consider tort.”
“As it remains a possibility, I would prefer to be aware of the impact to do so.”
“Maybe fifty thousand. If we have to bring in a forensic accountant and other experts, easily over one hundred thousand dollars. The process would unwind in about twenty to thirty months. Most likely, they would make an offer just after discovery, or during jury selection.”
Mason Johnson, who had been stewing quietly for the weekend, made his presence known.
“Then make sure you put those fuckers in jail, Mister Northrup. I’m tired of this shit. I want to get back to work ... By the way, Doc, I’ll be at school all of the week. I’ll come in Friday afternoon, assuming you’ve re-taken your kingdom by then ... Gotta get back into Boston before the rain and snow hits. See ya, doc.”
Benny watched his technician swing a pack over his shoulder, then exit the farm house.
“Henry, you did the backgrounder and talked to him, tell me about Mason Johnson and what he did in the Marines. Why was an avionics technician in combat?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because Lizzy likes him.”
“I see ... The thing about jarheads is that, unlike soldiers and airmen, they are more the same than they are different.”
“I do not understand.”
“In the army, or the navy and air force, your particular job defines you and the immediate ‘culture’ that you live and operate within. Cooks, sparks, legs, airborne, rangers, pilots, techs, etc; they can be a world apart in the army. Both in training and culture. But not jarheads. The Marines have a saying: ‘every Marine is a rifleman’. And they mean it, because whether you’re a cook or tech or infantryman, you could all be forward deployed, facing the same enemy, where the bad guys are next door. And that is why our boy has a purple heart and a bronze star with a ‘V’. His detachment was forward-deployed and came under attack. He fought those bastards for three days, defending his airplanes with his body. Why? Because he knew that those Harriers were essential for the CAS of his fellow Marines. Why was a tech able to take up a rifle and a machine gun and throw grenades and be effective? Because that is the way riflemen in the Marines train; and they’re all riflemen.”
“So you are saying that Mason is representative of the Marines having a singular culture, whereas the other service branches vary from job to job?”
“Yes and no. But, they are all mentally conditioned, starting at their boot camp, for immediate response to orders and for an aggressive and violent response.”
“Is Mason mentally stable? Has he been affected by his war experiences?”
“He is no less stable than you or me. And we are always affected when we have to take up arms ... In some ways, he may be more ‘stable’ than you or me. Whatever ‘stable’ may mean.”
Robert and Harry were silenced into introspection per the conversation between Benny and Henry. They silently cursed the current, and the coming administrations, that sent people to war and spent billions on making war. And they both knew that they would be lock-step, well-placed in the conga line of investors, making millions, more likely billions, in profit off of these wars.
SIG, Needham, Ma - 9:25 AM, 31 January 2006
Larry Page and Marisa Mayer pulled into the parking lot of 60 Dudham Avenue to find four police cruisers around the building. Mayer exited the vehicle, pulling her briefcase out, then walking towards the front entrance.
Two patrolman were standing along the front sidewalk, doing their best to avoid the small patches of snow and ice. A police sergeant, and a police lieutenant exited their vehicles, immediately moving in a rapid walk to intercept the blonde woman.
As Mayer, with an oblivious arrogance, walked past the the two police officers, the police sergeant called out to the woman. Larry Page saw what was developing and pulled out his cellphone to call the Google legal counsel.
“Are you Marissa Ann Mayer, executive vice president of the Google subsidiary known as Scientific Investments Group?”
When Mayer replied in the affirmative, one of the police officers removed a pair of handcuffs from his belt, while the other officer pulled the briefcase from Mayer’s hands.
“Ms Mayer, we have a warrant for your arrest. Per title one, chapter 266, section 30, of the General Laws that govern the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, you are charged with a conspiracy to commit grand larceny.”
As the police sergeant read Mayers her ‘Miranda’ rights, the police lieutenant called in the bust on the radio.
Larry Page called out to his lover, while being careful to not interfere with the cops.
“Marissa, I just called our legal department. They’re sending someone now. I will call Eric next ... Officer, where are you taking her?”
“She will be processed at Needham City Jail.”
The police lieutenant watched the two cruisers drive away, then walked across the street to a waiting truck to talk to the occupants.
“What did you think of that, Mister Northrup?”
“Well done, lieutenant. Benny asked about your communications systems. Any issues?”
“Working great, sir. We’re now linked in with all of Norfolk County fire services and law enforcement. When will Doctor Harrison return to the area? We sorta miss the man running and biking around.”
Robert Northrup gave a half-grin to the police executive along with his non-answer.
“That will be determined by how far you people have to take this prosecution, and whether they call uncle.”
“We’ll make them say uncle, sir. Their lawyers will not be happy with what the magistrate will do.”
“And what is that?”
“Most likely, the arraignment will take a while while we establish the bona fides of her legal guy, then she will be bound over with some severe limitations.”
“Excellent, lieutenant. Tell your people they executed this most professionally. We appreciate your support.”
“Not a problem, Mister Northrup. My boys don’t get to arrest millionaire executives that often. Let Doctor Harrison and Mrs Paucho know we’re always at their service. Good day, sir.”
Needham, Ma -- 04 February 2006
Mason Johnson scanned the front room of Benny’s former apartment with respect and no small sense of awe.
“Damn, doc. So this is where you started it all. It’s really fucking cool.”
Benny wondered if Mason had ever completed more than two or three sentences without the interjection of profanity.
“Yes, and it is my intent to re-wire the building with a 400 amp panel, upgrade the stacks, and re-start the shunt-trading systems.”
“Yeah? How you gonna do the control loops? Don’t see delay lines or filter boxes.”
“We will sync it with the main controllers at SIG when we install receivers to upgrade the GPS time reference. The temporal discipline will mitigate any sync loss if we lose connectivity.”
“So when you getting your kingdom back from those assholes?”
“Uncertain. Robert has been talking with Larry Page. Perhaps next week ... You want to work at this site next week with myself and Harry? Doris and Brian have already ordered the servers and other components.”
“Fucking-A, doc. Let’s rock.”
Needham, Ma - 11:35 AM, 14 February 2006
Their bedroom was, for the time of year, excessively warm. Benny estimated that, for at least the 12 micron wavelength, their bodies had radiated several hundreds of thousands of joules of energy, based on what he knew about daily caloric intake vs caloric use during coitus. On further thought, he realized the sophomoric error of his sex-fogged mind. He should be thinking about the human as a black-body radiator, with radiative and convective transfer limited by ambient conditions.
Benny’s mind, still lazy from his focus on Andrea for most of the morning, drifted in and out of simple high school-level physics.
So, with a bedroom ambient under well under 300 kelvin, the net positive of energy transfer to the surrounding atmosphere, from both of their bodies, could not possibly be over one mega joule. Given the cubic space, not considering convective effects, and re-radiation from the bed and walls, his rough calculation was that approximately three hours of the serial sexual intercourse events, had contributed, at best, 2C to the ambient.
Looking at the fogged window pane, he surmised that their activity had definitely increased the absolute and relative humidity of the bedroom. Given standard temperature and pressure, he started to calculate the additive mass of dissolved water vapor. Uncertain of the atmospheric parametrics, Benny again assumed standard temperature and pressure, using standard lapse rate and the simplified version of relative humidity, he assumed a delta of 25%, then using the formula for absolute humidity...
“Benny? What are you thinking about, my love?”
Benny looked down at Andrea’s naked body, covered only by the diamond locket that he had gifted her for valentine’s day.
“That we made the room warmer and more humid.”
“Yes, we did.”
SIG, Needham, Ma - 03 March 2006
The two lawyers sat across the conference room table, both exasperated at the status of the negotiations.
“Mister la Carp, she has had no bearing on the operational effectiveness of SIG. Have you seen the first quarterly forecasts? Headless and without anyone actively making inputs, the system exceeded the 200% base rate per the original contract. SIG has been operating on auto-pilot. Ms Mayer has done nothing but incur legal difficulties onto the company, and Google has failed to meet the terms of the original service agreements with Harry Spoons and Benny Harrison.”
“Please call me Jerry. Marissa Mayers, regardless of the indictment, will remain as the executive VP for SIG. It is important that Google have over-sight of the local operations. As it is also important that Doctor Harrison and Doctor Spoons return to SIG in their advisory capacity, and to return with their support staff.”
“And please call me Robert. Think about it this way, Jerry. Unlike Mister Page and Ms Mayer, Harry and Benny have no personal malice and are not driven by self-serving issues. They are creatures of logic. It is my opinion that Mayer only wants them under her thumb, as a simple matter of retribution. The woman much needs to check her ego. Does Mister Schmidt understand that he is leaving, potentially, tens of millions of dollars on the table? Harry believes that they can transition to the hundreds of millions in get gain well before 2008, but they need the money now, but without the meddling and misdirection from Google executives.”
“I will talk to Eric Schmidt tonight. Thanks for coming by, Robert. Will they be available to talk with Marissa and myself?”
“Most likely not. They will be at the farm or remain at their residence pending a memorandum of understanding, or preferably, signed contracts.”
Needham, Ma - 4:15 PM, March 05, 2006
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