Chapter 3

Tara’s turn:

People have peculiar ways of looking at things, I guess. Our latest receptionist called in sick today, again. I think she may be on her way out the door. It happens. I know a bit of the back story. New boyfriend talking marriage. Sure to dissolve your resolve.

Anyway, I’m filling in for her this afternoon, mostly reading a history text -- I’m going to test out of this one next week. And the door just opened, with a nicely dressed middle-aged man and a cute little blonde holding his hand.

“Good afternoon,” he said. “I’m Tom Jameson. This is my daughter, Tara, and I hope you can help us. We’re looking for Dana Allen. She’s probably not here, but could you tell me how to find her?”

Wish they were all this easy, I thought. “I’m Tara Helton -- TWO Taras!” I smiled. “Hi, baby!” She grinned at me. “Uh, Dana ... I suspect she’s either at her apartment or on her way back from her Physics Lab. Her husband Ed is here, and he’ll know -- let me get him.” And I made the call to Ed, luckily catching him in his office.

I turned back to Mister Jameson. “He’s on his way up -- be just a minute. Can I get drinks for you? Coffee, water, soft drinks?”

He looked pleasant, so I’m not worrying. “Just coffee for me. Tara, what would you like?”

“Water would be nice,” she said, blushed, and said, “I thought I was the only one with that name! I’m glad you have it, too. You’re a very pretty lady!”

I get flustered. Compliments disarm me. Some people know that and use it to their advantage, like Major Aaron Kettler, USAF, whom I’m really trying to figure out.

Rescuing me, Ed walked into the reception area, and just as he did, Dana walked in the front door. Tara squealed “DANA!” and ran to her -- nearly knocked her down. Dana hugged her for a minute, got down on one knee, held her at arm’s length, and said, “Darlin’, it’s so good to see you again. You look much happier now. Is your puppy behaving?”

Making introductions, I said, “Mr. Jameson, this is Ed Allen and Dana. Guys, Tom and Tara Jameson.”

Dana said, “Hmm. Big Tara and Little Tara. BT and LT? That’ll work, maybe.”

Little Tara said, “Tara, Mizz Dana rescued me a couple of months ago. She’s my hero FOREVER, and I want to be just like her when I grow up.”

Ed’s turn:

I ushered Tom, (LT) Tara, and Dana back to my office, and when we sat down, Tom said, “Tara has been on my case for several weeks, wanting to find Dana, and frankly, so have I. Dana, you have our profound gratitude. But I have to say, you look much younger than I had thought.”

“I just turned sixteen, so I can get a driver’s license now!” my Dana said. It’s one of those milestones in young life. Also with the magic number, she’s got a student pilot license.

“Then how is it that you were flying an airplane, when you found Tara?” Tom asked.

Dana said, “That was just an ultra-light -- the FAA has no license requirements for them. They’re low and slow, but at least you get to move in three dimensions.”

Tara asked, “Could you take me flying, Mizz Dana? Please?” She’s got that ‘cute’ thing going.

Dana said, “I’m not licensed, so I’m not allowed to take passengers. But we have several other licensed pilots, so we’d be happy to give you a ride, if your Mom and Dad think it’s OK.”

Tom said, “I’ll talk to Tanya about it. Changing the subject a little, what is it that you folks do here, at 3Sigma? I hadn’t heard of it before Dana found Tara, and she remembered the sign on the wing.”

I said, “Tom, we’re an engineering contractor firm. It’s mostly electrical engineering, with some offshoots. I’m one of the “offshoots”, because I work mainly in IT -- lots of computers and software, mostly related to industrial controls.”

Tom was quiet for a minute, and said, “Ed, this is going to sound peculiar, and it’s a coincidence, and I don’t know if you can help. But I’m a banker, actually a CEO, and we’re having an IT problem. In summary, it’s a big code revision that we outsourced last year, to India, I think. They’ve been sending us stuff that just isn’t working, and I think we need to steer in a different direction.

“I don’t know much about computers, really. I have to trust what our IT guy tells me, but I think he’s in over his head on this project. Here’s his card. Could you call him, get together with him, and see if you can think of some way to sort out the problem?”

I said, “Yes sir, we will, probably tomorrow. We’ll take a look and see if we can figure out something that makes sense.”

“Thanks, Ed, I appreciate it,” Tom said, “Lord knows we NEED that upgrade, but only if it works, and it has to be bullet-proof. And hack-proof, of course.”

I sighed. “We can get you to ninety-nine point nine nine nine percent on ‘hack-proof’. We’re doing some things with some Israelis that’re working well. You’re not our first financial institution.”

“Can you tell me just a bit more? And remember, I’m an MBA with a BA, not an engineer.”

“Look, I’ll be gentle,” I said. “Here’s where we’ll likely find you...” And I talked about things I love to talk about, but it’s kind of like taking a child to a park and you’re all about the taxonomy of the herbage and the child is all ‘look at the blue flowers.’

Dana was right there with me, little Tara plastered next to her. I finished my impromptu presentation.

Tom stood to leave, and Tara said, “Dad, could I stay with Dana this afternoon? Maybe they can take me for a plane ride!”

Dana said, “Tom, we’d be delighted to have her, and you and Tanya can come out and watch, and then stay with us for dinner this evening. Short notice, of course, but you’re entirely welcome.”

Subsequent conversations and I turned the job over to Laci Decker-Elkins. Laci’s a hoot. Pretty, in a plumpish, blonde way. Quick witted, as evidenced by one of the sharpest tongues in the company. Oh, that tongue thing? Lesbian. Married to Kimberly Duncan’s aunt Jenn. Not that anyone appears to have a problem with it.

Technically speaking, she’s adept. BS in computer science, came from a banking IT background. This one’s right up her alley.

Maybe there’s something to it. She called Nikki. Nikki’s been doing a LOT of things with communications systems. You don’t want to call anyone else if you’re working with the data forms around power utilities.

There’s a road trip tomorrow. I think they said something about taking Dana along as an intern.

Meanwhile, today, Dana’s got the little Tara, headed for the airfield. Gonna meet Cindy there. Cindy. If she’s there for flying, we’re liable to see ANYTHING at all. That little redhead’s got wings.

Cindy’s turn:

Text message from Dana: Can you get loose to give somebody an airplane ride?

I slipped back into my office at the robotics lab and called her. “Hey, Dana ... Who needs a ride?”

“Remember that little lost girl I found?”

“Yeah.” The story’s well known to us. Got Dana a nice letter from the sheriff’s office, but that was the end of it. So we thought.

Dana showed up with a six year old blonde girlchild. “Tara, this is Cindy. She’s a licensed pilot. Cindy, this is Tara Jameson. She’s the little girl I found a few months ago.”

“Hi, Tara,” I said, squatting down to her level. “You wanna go flying?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tara said politely. “I would like that. Dana looked for me with her little airplane. I would like to see what it looks like from up there like Dana flies.”

“I’m an example,” Dana smiled.

“I wanna see YOUR airplane, Dana,” Tara said.

“It’s not just MY airplane,” Dana answered. “We have several of them. Let me show you.”

We opened up the ultralight hangar. Dana pointed out the one she was flying on the day of the rescue, let Tara sit in it.

“It’s only got one seat,” Tara said.

“Yes. There are rules that say it can only have one seat. You don’t have to have a license to fly one, but you can’t carry passengers,” I explained.

“Oh,” Tara said sadly. “But you’re a pilot, huh, Cindy?” She looked at Dana for affirmation.

“Yes, I am. So we need a bigger airplane. We have this one. It’s got two seats. I taught Dana to fly in it. We could go in that one, but it’s a little cool today and Dana couldn’t go with us. I can take us all...”

“Who’s going where?” Vicki’s voice.

I turned. “I thought you were going to be at the lab today.”

“Stressed. Dad says if I get stressed, do something different...” Vicki was dressed warmly, advisable because while ‘knees in the breeze’ is pleasant in warm weather, in cooler times one can get chilled very fast.

She spotted Tara. “Hi! “I’m Vicki.”

“I’m Tara. Dana rescued me one day. Cindy’s gonna take me flying,” then, a little incredulously, “You can fly? How old are you?”

“I’m eleven,” Vicki said. “And I fly one of these by myself.”

“We’re probably gonna take our old Cessna,” I said. “Four seats. Wanna come with us?” I asked.

“Sure. Tara, me ‘n’ you can sit in the back seat together,” Vicki said.

Tara’s head bobbed affirmation.

“Come on, then. Let’s go get us an airplane.” I did a complete preflight. I don’t cut corners. As I walked around doing my thing, Dana followed along with Tara, keeping up the explanations, suitably dialed back for her little audience.

Our old Cessna still runs like a clock – completely faithful, due in part to the fact that she’s coddled by Wally and another very capable mechanic.

We took off. I have some favorite areas for these rides where I can do a thousand feet above ground level, for the close-in view, and everywhere else we do three or four thousand feet.

“How do you like it,” Vicki asked Tara over the intercom.