Chapter 70: Speedball

October 5, 1988, Chicago, Illinois

"Remind me why we're watching this?" I asked Elyse.

"Because none of us know a thing about Dan Quayle and this debate with Senator Bentsen is probably the only time we'll get to see much of him."

"Jess, didn't you say he was pretty much a zero?" I asked.

"He votes consistently with the Republicans, the way you would expect, did the usual 'help the constituents' thing, but otherwise, I can't recall a single thing he did."

The debate proceeded along fairly typical lines, with neither candidate saying anything that was particularly interesting, let alone decisive, until Senator Quayle had to respond to a question from Tom Brokaw about his qualifications for President. He compared his experience to that of Jack Kennedy, which was, as far as it went, not unreasonable. The problem was that it gave Senator Bentsen an opening for perhaps the best political zinger I had ever heard.

The audience in the debate hall went wild with approval.

"Ouch," Elyse said.

"He walked right into that one," I said. "The only thing I can say is that the VP candidate doesn't matter a lot. It'll cost Bush a point or two in the polls, but he can afford it. He's going to win the Electoral College in a landslide. I can't imagine Dukakis carrying anything big except Massachusetts and New York. California is pretty solidly Republican, and the entire South is going to vote for Bush, along with the 'Rust Belt' states. This won't make any difference in that."

"That was a dumb response," Jessica said.

"I have to agree," Elyse said. "He should have just let it go. He's been hammering how liberal Dukakis was and ignoring Bentsen. That's a winning strategy. Nobody wants a President from the People's Republic of Massachusetts!"

We all laughed. I felt that comment, along with the terrible picture of Dukakis in the tank, was all anyone really needed to judge the election. We watched the end of the debate, which didn't feature anything nearly as interesting as the snarky comment by Senator Bentsen, and then headed to bed.

October 6, 1988, Chicago, Illinois

"Hi, Scott! How are things?" I asked as I sat down across from him at the diner in Bridgeport.

"I'm ready to go. My last day at Nuvatec was Friday. I assume you heard that Jennifer received three job offers."

"I did. She's agonizing over which one to take. She likes the Bell Labs offer, but she's intrigued by Tellabs. The First Alert offer was good, but that's really a backup. She said she has to decide by tomorrow."

"I encouraged her to go to Bell Labs, but they aren't the same as they were before Ma Bell was broken up."

"I think she's going to go to Tellabs, but I haven't given an opinion one way or the other. She and Josie have talked about it a lot, and given their situation, I think that's how it has to be."

Scott pushed a notebook and three-ring binder to me.

"These are copies of my lecture notes and all the handouts for the rest of the semester. Doctor Bauer will administer quizzes on Wednesdays and collect homework. We had to kind of shuffle things around to make that work, but because you can't have anything to do with grading, we wanted to make sure that there was clear separation. I'm assuming that you have your notes from my class."

"I do," I said. "And I plan to come in all three days next week to sit in on the class to get into the flow."

"Good. The first few pages in the binder are the team divisions, with a bit of commentary on the leaders and some key students. It's mostly a good group, though as always, there are a few who are having trouble. I'm expecting you to bring your real-world experience to bear in this class. Charlie Bauer knows his stuff, but he's an academic and has always been an academic."

"I'll do my best. It's going to play havoc with my schedule, but I'll make it work."

"What else are you doing besides work?" Scott asked.

"It's mostly related to karate. I'm personally training a couple of students, one of whom I run with every morning at 5:15am, and one I do extra lessons with on Sundays. That's in addition to my regular practices six days a week. One of those I teach the entire class. Add in the kids and family, and the fact that I go to bed early so I can walk Jessica to work at 3:45am, and I have no time."

"We really do appreciate it. This is going to be very good experience for you. One day, when Charlie gets you to start the Master's program, you'll be ready to teach the way I have been."

"That's YEARS down the road," I said. "Maybe if I wasn't involved in karate, I'd think about it."

We had a good talk over lunch, with the topics ranging from the class to Sun Microsystems to NIKA to California. When we finished, I reminded Scott that I'd see him in class on Monday, shook hands with him, and then headed back to work.

October 7, 1988, Chicago, Illinois

"Steve, Julia needs you for a meeting in the conference room," Kimmy said over the intercom.

I got up and walked down the hall to the conference room to find Cindi, Mario, Kayla, Elyse, and Julia waiting for me.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Grab a seat," Julia said. "Cindi has some stuff to tell you."

I sat down and looked over my shoulder out the glass panel that separated the conference room from the office to see Dave still at his desk.

"What about Dave?" I asked.

"He's stepping back from operational and sales meetings," Julia said. "He just doesn't have the time; and like you, he's not all that interested. He has his dream job, and he wants to do it!"

"I know the feeling," I chuckled. "So why am I here?"

"It's still your company, and some things need your attention. This is probably strategic, and you specifically said you still wanted to be involved in strategy."

"What's the issue?"

"Boston Legal Systems just announced a true nationwide expansion. They're opening offices in Dallas and San Francisco. They're staffing them with sales and support people."

"That's not really an unexpected development, is it?" I asked.

"You have to ask yourself where the revenue is coming from, or, lacking revenue, who's backing them and why?" Mario said.

"We had investors at the start," I said.

"Enough to do what they're doing now?" Cindi asked. "Their customer base is smaller than ours, and they don't have medical or consulting business."

"Sure, but they've run a very, very small organization with a few programmers and a couple of sales people."

Mario slid a glossy piece of paper to me.

"Here's their announcement," he said. "And they sent solicitations to all our customers again. AND they're trying to displace us from Bar meetings across the country."

I nodded, "OK. So we have real competition. May I make a pedantic comment?"

"Nobody here can stop you," Elyse smirked.

"It says that they have local support in every time zone. They don't. They're missing Mountain Time."

"I'll get the FTC right on that," Julia said sarcastically. "Look closely."

I scanned the entire glossy sheet and found on the back two testimonials. One was from the firm in Dallas that had used our stolen software. It compared us to BLS very unfavorably.

"OK, so lawyers are assholes," I said. "We knew that. What's the plan?"

"Fight fire with fire, of course," Cindi said. "I already have Cynthia working on our own flyer, and we'll get quotes from Ford, Jackson, and Finch, as well as Allen & Baker, and a couple of other firms. I think Volstead and Braun owe us a nice review, don't you?"

"I'm sure they'll do it. What else?"

"We open an office in Pittsburgh or Nashville," Cindi said. "Both of those are FAR cheaper than Boston, New York, Baltimore, or DC, have good airports, and are centrally located. Mario would move, and he and I have already talked about that. We'd need to hire a third support person as well, but they could be a mix of on-site and in the office. We'd also need to fairly quickly put someone in Los Angeles with Barbara and Cynthia."

"That's a hell of a lot of money," I said.

"That's why you're here," Julia said.

"I want to hear what Elyse has to say," I said.

"That kind of major expansion would put us in the red, not just on the application software side, but overall. The consulting business is growing, and it helps mitigate the problem, but doesn't completely make up for it. We'd also save money on travel, but that would be eaten up by the expenses for a new office. If we take the most conservative numbers for revenue, and the worst-case scenario for expenses, we'd probably run in the red for at least six months. We have the reserves to sustain that, but if we get to a year and we're still in the red, we'll have some serious issues to resolve."

"No," I said. "I can't agree to what you're proposing, Cindi. It's too risky. You know that we lose the Waukesha income at the end of the year, and there won't be a reprieve like before. Debbie already has fewer hours there than planned, though Dave has plenty of work to keep her busy. With the trouble PRIME is having, Purina Mills is going to change systems, and we have no idea what their plan is, but if I had to lay money on it, they'll go with the AS/400 that was just announced over the Summer. They mentioned it in our last conference call. And that's way outside our current skill set and isn't one of our target systems. We don't want to get into System 36/38 programming."

"We can't let BLS steal a march on us like this," Cindi protested.

"So don't. Present me with a plan that doesn't run into the red on operating expenses. I'm OK with capital outlays, so long as we don't deplete our reserves too far."

"What about using our line of credit?" Cindi asked.

"That's for emergencies," I said. "And short-term only. Find a solution that moves towards what you want incrementally, but I simply won't approve of any plan that runs at a loss when there's no reasonable guarantee of a return to profit. Even if you have Julia's backing, if Elyse and I both oppose it, the board will never agree. You can be sure that Joyce, Beth, and my dad will object, even if the two of them do it only to protect their significant investment. I'm not saying stand still, but I am insisting that we don't overreact. Go back to the drawing board."

Cindi started to say something, but Elyse cut her off.

"Cindi, it's fiscally unsound. I told you that before you presented it. You asked me to run the numbers, and I did. As CFO, I'm telling you this is NOT the right approach. I told you that before. Let's work on something we CAN afford."

"I agree," Julia said reluctantly. "We have to do something, but this isn't it."

Cindi deflated and leaned back in her chair.

"Cindi," Mario said, "Let's have a meeting with just your staff and talk through a response."

"That's a good plan," I said.

The phone on the conference table buzzed, and Julia hit the intercom button.

"Yes?" she said.

"Steve, your sister is on the phone and she sounds frantic. I told her you were in a meeting and she said that she was the CEO and didn't care who you were with."

I chuckled, "OK, Kimmy. Put her through."

The phone rang, and I picked up the handset.

"Stephanie? What's up?"

"Lisa said that she heard from Peggy that Chrissy was rushed to the hospital and might be dead!"

"Shit! Which hospital?"

"UofC! I'm calling from the Student Union. Can you meet me at the ER?"

"I could," I said. "Where's your boyfriend?"

"Work, of course! Out in the 'burbs!"

"OK. I'm on my way," I said.

I hung up.

"Who?" Elyse asked, a look of concern on her face.

"The girl who OD'd at the party," I replied.

"The one Melanie is defending?"

"Yes. I'm meeting my sister at the hospital."

"Do you really know that girl?" Julia asked.

"No, but my sister needs me. Normally, that would be Jorge's role, but he's at work out in the 'burbs, so he can't be there for her."

"OK. Go," she said. "Cindi and Mario will need some time, anyway."

I walked quickly back to my office to grab my coat and fedora, and left the office, letting Kimmy know I would be out for the rest of the day. I walked to the hospital at the fastest pace I could sustain and dashed into the ER waiting room. I saw my sister, Melody, Cheryl, Lisa, Peggy, two other girls, plus an older woman that I assumed was Chrissy's mom. Stephanie saw me and hurried over and threw herself into my arms.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"It's not clear. They aren't saying much right now. Jessica is in there working on Chrissy with a bunch of other doctors and nurses."

I looked at the board through the glass of the intake desk and thought back to things Jessica had told me and deduced from the shorthand on the board that Chrissy had taken an overdose of something, and it was possibly a suicide attempt. Other than that, and the fact that she was in Trauma 1, there wasn't any further information.

"Is that her mom?" I asked.

"Yes," Stephanie said, clinging to me for dear life.

"Have they been out to talk to her?"

"All they said is that she's in extremely critical condition and they're working on her."

We moved to stand with the other girls, all of whom were upset. Chrissy's mom had a grim look on her face, which certainly was warranted.

"Hi," Melody said.

"Hey," I responded. "Who found her?"

"Her mom. The paramedics brought her here."

I nodded. We stood there for about ten minutes and I saw Jessica hurry out of the trauma room. She saw me and looked me in the eyes, and I knew then and there that Chrissy wasn't going to make it. Jessica hurried past the intake desk and disappeared through another door. She was back two minutes later, pushing a cart with some kind of equipment that I didn't recognize, but I knew it wasn't a crash cart.

"What's that?" my sister asked quietly.

"No idea," I said.

Jessica being too busy to stop to say hello, or to give me a quick kiss, reinforced what she'd told me with her eyes. I'd been in this situation once before, when Kara's dad had died. Chrissy's mom was going to need someone close to her very soon, and I didn't think any of these girls knew her.

"Did they call Chrissy's dad?" I asked.

"Her parents are separated, but they tracked him down. He works in Manhattan, so it's going to be tonight before he gets here. Why?"

"Walk with me for a second," I said, gently steering her towards the sliding doors that lead outside.

"What?" she asked, suddenly concerned.

"Jess doesn't think that Chrissy is going to make it," I said.

"What?!" Stephanie gasped. "You didn't even talk to her!"

"No, but she made eye contact with me and you know how I've always been able to communicate that way with girls who are close to me. And she didn't say hello or even stop for a quick kiss. Plus, the board said she OD'd, and that they thought it was a suicide attempt."