Chapter 37: Claire Colson

November 4, 1990, Chicago, Illinois

“Seriously?” Elyse laughed.

“Seriously. She’s not inexperienced; she’s just never had intercourse.”

“What does your sister like to say? That you’re the luckiest dumb boy on the planet! You love the virginal types, and you got one by pure happenstance!”

“You’re assuming that I’m going to do it,” I said.

Elyse laughed, “There is NO WAY IN HELL you’re going to turn that down! A cute girl who’s your type? With a cherry available? The only way you would pass this up is if you’d decided to stop having dalliances. What did you tell her?”

“That before I’d consider it, she needed to get an STD test. She was a bit put off, but in the end, I convinced her why it was necessary. We’ll see what happens. She could still change her mind.”

“I assume you talked to her about it?”

“She came close a few times. The last one was at her Senior Prom. She was going to go through with it, but her best friend chickened out and insisted that they go home.”

“I bet THAT guy was unhappy!” Elyse said with a laugh.

“He was so pissed he broke up with her. When he came to his senses, she was no longer interested. Personally, I think he’s an idiot. A girl is willing to sleep with you, and something interferes. Big deal. You just take the next opportunity!”

Elyse grinned, “Practical as always!”

“That’s me. I meant to tell you — after talking to Tim, I want to do a leadership retreat so we can talk about a few things. Can you set something up? Just a day away somewhere, before the Christmas party.”

“Let me see if we can get into Pheasant Run.”

“OK.”

November 5, 1990, Chicago, Illinois

“Steve, there’s a call for you,” Keri said. “A Mr. Len Rose. He says he doesn’t know you personally, but he’s seen your posting on some computer network.”

“Usenet, I suspect. Go ahead and put him through, please.”

She put him through.

“Hi, this is Steve.”

“Hi. You don’t know me, but I’m Len Rose. I just moved to Naperville, and I’m looking for a Usenet feed. I understand you have a direct connection to UUNET. Could you provide one? I’ll call your system so you won’t have phone charges.”

In the back of my mind, I remembered reading something about him on Usenet; I just couldn’t remember what it was.

“Where have I heard your name before?” I asked.

“Probably Computer Underground Digest,” he sighed.

That was it! He was an alleged computer hacker that I’d read about. He was accused of stealing source code to Unix from AT&T and being a member of a group called The Legion of Doom. The Usenet consensus was that the charges were trumped up and that he wasn’t a member of the hacking group.

“That’s it,” I said. “I thought you were in Maryland.”

“A friend of mine rented an apartment here for me, so my wife, son, and I moved here temporarily. I’ll have to go back to Maryland for a trial, but with no income, I can’t really be picky. I’m not asking for anything other than a Usenet feed and e-mail forwarding. My friend is paying for the phone line. I’ll understand if you say ‘no’.”

It was an interesting dilemma. The article I’d read, which was now coming back to me, had basically laid out a case for overzealous prosecution and overcharging. The same article had spoken about the resolution of the Craig Neidorf case. His hacker handle, or code name, was ‘Knight Lightning’. Len Rose’s handle was ‘Terminus’.

As I thought about the request, I contemplated the security risk. I decided there wasn’t much of a risk. I could limit the access his system had to mine, including the commands that could be run by UUCP, and ensure he couldn’t do anything other than receive communication from sendmail or C-news.

“Just UUCP for Usenet and mail?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“I suppose I can do that,” I said. “Give me a day or two to get it set up. I’ll call you with the access information. What’s your system name?”

“It’s ‘netsys’. I’m ‘netsys!len’.”

“I’m ‘nika!sadams’,” I said. “So you’ll be ‘nika!netsys!len’ once it’s set up.”

“Yep, got that. I’ll talk to you in a day or two.”

I hung up and made a note to configure the system later. I made a second note to double-check the system security and ensure that ‘root’ access wasn’t available except from the physical console.

November 6, 1990, Chicago, Illinois

I sat down at my Unix system early on Tuesday morning and started configuring access for Len. I’d had second and third thoughts about it and still wasn’t sure. I’d done some research and talked to Sheldon Zenner at Katten, Muchin & Zavis. He was the attorney who had defended Neidorf and had insight into what was going on. Speaking with him allayed my concerns, and I was convinced that the security on my server was sufficient.

I called Len, gave him the login information, and waited while he made a test call. I verified that everything was properly logged and that the logs were secured. My terminal beeped, and I opened elm to read the test e-mail from Len. I replied to it and then checked to see that it was properly queued. I verified that news was transferring, and when Len confirmed it was showing up on his system, we said ‘goodbye’ and hung up.

A few minutes later, Mario called. I’d tried to reach him the day before, but he’d been out on a sales call. He told me that the Hawks would be in Pittsburgh on December 11th, but that was the night before the NIKA Christmas party. He looked at the schedule, and we agreed on Saturday, January 5th, when the Pens would be playing the Devils. Mario promised to get the tickets, and I said I’d have Barney book the flight and hotel. He also said he’d figure out which client to invite so we could write the trip off as a business expense.

November 10, 1990, Chicago, Illinois

“How’s Melanie?” I asked Pete at breakfast on Saturday morning.

“Cranky!” Pete sighed. “She’s due any day now. She’s annoyed that she’s not working. She’s annoyed that her feet are swollen. She’s annoyed at the bathroom trips. And she blames me!”

Jamie laughed, “Of course she does! They always do! Just wait until she’s in labor, and you get the ‘You did this to me!’ growl!”

“Everyone gets that!” Kurt laughed. “Or the ‘MEN!’ comment if you don’t respond correctly. And I promise, you can’t respond correctly! Even responding to ‘Do you love me?’ is like walking through a minefield!”

“So true!” I laughed. “There’s this eight-to-ten-hour window where you’re the most evil person on the planet!”

“I don’t even want to imagine what it feels like to have a baby!” Chris said. “And if you all think your wives were bad, I have to deal with Cindi! She’s due in March, and I am NOT looking forward to the next four months!”

“I dodged THAT bullet!” Dave said, nodding soberly.

“You were ready to marry her,” I said. “But she had no use for ‘celibate old men and dusty books’, as she put it. Julia, on the other hand, is well on her way to being one of those Orthodox grandmas we see in church.”

Dave laughed, “I’ll tell her you said that. And I’ll speak highly of you at your funeral!”

“It’s a COMPLIMENT, Dave!” I protested.

“Sure. You tell HER that!” he laughed.

“Morning, guys!” Alex said, coming over to the table. “How are things today?”

“Good!” I replied. “Is everything set for the 12th?”

“Absolutely! Any chance I can convince you to come here on New Year’s Eve?”

“And leave all these men stranded without a traditional party to go to?” I chuckled. “You know I have a blow-out at my place every year.”

“Doesn’t hurt for me to ask! I heard you have a new nanny. Are you booking a place for her here?”

“No, she’ll be at our party with us,” I said. “It’s a different situation than with Veronica and Jack.”

“They made reservations already,” he smiled. “So, at least we have that!”

“And our annual Christmas party! It’s not like we’re neglecting you!”

“You all are my best customers! I see Pam waiting to take your orders, so I’ll go take care of some business!”

He left, and Pam did take our orders, though, for the most part, she already had them written out because the vast majority of us were creatures of habit. Service was prompt as usual, and we had our food in front of us less than twelve minutes later.

“How are things on base?” I asked Karl.

“Not much changes. Nick’s replacement is, well, not living up to my standards. Always looking for the easy way out. So, all he handles is simple stuff. It makes more work for the rest of us.”

“That sucks,” I said.

“We get a fair number of lawyers who think being a JAG officer is a gateway to election or appointment as a judge. Sadly, they’re right in many cases. They serve four to six years, then they either go into private practice or stand for election as a local judge. The ultimate goal is a Federal judgeship. Others leave the JAG corps and become criminal defense lawyers who specialize in being private counsel to military personnel who don’t want an active-duty military lawyer.

“In the case about Nick’s murder, you know that the sailor had a civilian attorney as a consultant. That guy was an ex-JAG, and he was hired to make sure that the military counsel played it straight. In that case, there really wasn’t much that could be done, thank God, so other than the objection to Jesse’s letter, he pretty much kept quiet, according to the transcripts.”

“You read them?”

“Twice. There isn’t a scintilla of evidence of any kind of legal or procedural error. The appeals, all of them, will fail for sure. At this point, he’s down to zero options, really. I mean, sure, there’s executive clemency, but no President would dare do such a thing in a case such as this. We’re just waiting on rulings on the motions, and I doubt he’ll even get a hearing. I’ll keep you posted, but I’m sure nothing will come of it. He’s going to be at the Disciplinary Barracks for the rest of his life.”

“As it should be,” Howard declared. “That motherfucker killed my best friend!”

“We’re all on the same page with you,” Pete said.

“I’m glad to see you back from your TDY,” I said.

“Me too!” he said. “You can’t believe the amount of shit we shipped!”

“How are things with Jeri?” Kurt asked.

Howard smiled, “Cute as hell, smart, fun to be with, has a great job, and financially secure? What more could a guy want?”

That was one way to put it. ‘Loaded’ would be another way, but I assumed that Howard and Jeri had discussed how to handle her wealth. They couldn’t very well hide it completely, given Howard had to accompany her to several society events every year. He’d also be at the NIKA Christmas party this year as Jeri was bringing him as her date.

“How about TWO smoking hot wives, both of whom are fun to be with and financially secure!” Kurt laughed.

“Says the man married to the one woman on the planet Steve TRULY desires but can’t have!” Pete laughed.

“I make no apologies!” Kurt smirked. “They were dating when Kathy and I met. He voluntarily surrendered!”

“To the better man?” Pete grinned.

“Careful, Government Agent Man,” I chuckled. “I believe I was dating YOUR wife when you two met!”

“Hang on a second,” Zeke protested. “Is there ANYONE here dating or married to a girl who Steve HASN’T dated?”

“Me,” Howard said. “And Karl.”

He was half right because I’d never dated Ginny. He was wrong about Jeri, but there was no way I could say anything about that. None of the guys knew about it, and it had to stay that way.

Karl nodded, “I didn’t know Steve when I married Ginny, and she had never met him before.”

“Jamie? Chris? Jorge?” Zeke asked.

“No,” Chris said. “He never dated Cindi.”

“Don’t look at me! I was going with his sister!” Jorge laughed. “And I’m not steady with anyone right now.”

That was an outright evasion because Jorge rightly suspected something he would never speak aloud, and while I’d been with Patricia, he wasn’t steady with her.

“He dated Jackie a bit before I met her,” Jamie said.

“And you all know he and Penny have a history,” Terry said. “But we all know all of those are over and done with. And Steve is a good friend. Nobody here should hold anything against him just because he dated girls before we met them!”

It seemed that Terry was still talking obliquely to Zeke, which I found interesting because I thought all of that had been dealt with. Zeke hadn’t been acting strangely, but perhaps he was putting on a front. Whatever the case, I’d let Terry deal with it, as he’d been doing a good job of it so far.

“I have NO complaints!” Kurt laughed.

“Me either!” Pete agreed.

We finished our breakfast, and I headed home, but I was only there briefly before I had to head to the dōjō.

“Sensei Steve, I need some help with my kata,” Angelique said when she came into the dōjō.

“Will can help you,” I said.

“I was hoping you would be able to help me,” she said sweetly.

“I’m leading the class today, and Jolene is working with the lower belts on sparring. If you need extra help, it will have to be from Will.”

“But I want to work with a Sensei, not a student!”

“You didn’t complain when Sensei Jim assigned you to work with me before I was a Sensei,” I said with a smile.

“Well, you were a black belt! Will is only a brown belt. Maybe you could take some time after class?”

Her tone of voice was almost sickeningly sweet, and she was batting her eyelashes, making it clear she was flirting. It was true that she’d turned seventeen, but I really had no interest in her. She was nice enough, and even if I had been interested, one of the rules I’d agreed with Elyse was nobody from the dōjō. And because I was nominally in charge while Sensei Jim was caring for his wife, that made the rule even more important.

“I’m not really available after class,” I said. “I have commitments at home most Saturday afternoons.”

“Can’t you make some time for me, please?” she asked. “You always did for Jacquelyn!”

“I did that because Sensei Jim asked me to,” I said. “Honestly, I’d like you to work with Will. I believe he can help you.”

“Fine,” she sighed.

I didn’t want to make her angry, but I also didn’t want to encourage her in any way, shape, or form. I just hoped she got the clue and that I didn’t have to verbalize a rejection. After class, I asked Will how she had done, and he said he thought she was fine and that she’d wondered why I’d asked him to work with her. That only served to confirm my suspicions about her motivations. I thanked Will for working with her, then Jessica, Kara, and I walked home.

After lunch, Claire arrived for what I was sure would be her last tutoring session. When we went to my study, she handed me a printout from the UofC clinic that showed her STD tests were all negative.

“Let’s finish your assignment first, then we’ll talk,” I proposed.

“Sure. I actually think I have this one down. I just want to go over my flowchart and logic with you before I write the program.”