Chapter 10

Week 5 - Wednesday

Gene stopped by the table where Missy and I were having coffee this morning and said, "The Denver Police called last night and said they had some news about Miller. They said some of the stolen items are showing up in pawnshops in the San Francisco bay area. They've had hits in Alameda, San Lorenzo, San Leandro, Hayward, San Jose, Redwood City, and San Mateo."

"So, our wandering boy has moved to California. I don't suppose there's been any news on the rental car."

"No. You know, I was thinking. You can get a car painted for a couple of hundred dollars. I'll bet it's not even the same color, and I'll bet it has a different license plate, too."

"You're probably right," I said. "How's the interviewing going?"

"Not too bad. I think either one or both of the guys I've interviewed so far, will work out. Personnel says they have a couple more ready to interview."

"That's great. The way I figure it, you are four engineers short, right now. Make that five if you replace Westover. Get them hired as quickly as possible. We'll need to send all of them out with other engineers, on their first time out."

"Will do. Maybe I should just go ahead and hire the two I've interviewed. Both of them have previous experience in controls with other companies."

"That's up to you, Gene. Don't hire someone you're not going to be able to work with."

"Been there, done that. Never again."

"Could I talk to you for a minute, Mr. Delany?" a heavy set, middle aged, man asked, when he stuck his head in my door a little later.

I wasn't really busy, so I nodded, and motioned him in.

"I'm Sam MacDonald," he said. "I'm a purchasing agent."

"It's nice to meet you, Sam," I said, "and please call me Ed."

"Okay, Ed. Everyone calls me Mac. I just wanted to tell you I'm glad you got things shook up in the purchasing department. The other guys and I suspected that something was going on, but we didn't have any proof."

"I'm glad I was a help, Mac."

"We were told what company we could buy from. When we complained, we were told it was company policy. We knew that was bullshit, but there wasn't anything we could do about it."

"Well, hopefully things will straighten out now," I said.

Mac agreed, and then excused himself and left.

Brenda came in a little later and said we had another problem brewing. "Evidently, a few years ago, we put one of our Order Picker Systems in for E. L. Libby in Roanoke, Virginia. They just had a flash flood there. It put water up onto the second floor of their warehouse. They want us to send someone down to evaluate the system. They want to know if it can be repaired, or if it has to be replaced completely."

"Man, I'll bet that's a mess. Can you imagine one of those systems, completely submerged in muddy water? Do they have power and lights in the building? Is the airport open?"

"I don't know, but I'll find out. I have a contact number for the guy at Libby. I'll call him back, then let you know."

While she was gone, Gene stuck his head in and asked if I'd heard about Libby. "Yeah, we'll have to send someone down there. Do you have any suggestions?"

"That's a tough one. Our Order Picker System is kind of old and we haven't sold many of them recently. I think Libby's may have been the last one we installed. Marty Dunn was the engineer who worked on that project."

"Come on in and sit down. Let's give Marty a call."

I called Marty's number and when he answered, I asked, "Marty, who besides you knows anything about the Order Picker System?"

"Well... The guy who designed the system is no longer with us. R&D handled all of the installations of the ones we did put in. I don't think there's anyone left who knows anything about them but me."

"How'd you like to make a trip to Roanoke?"

Marty laughed. "You must be talking about the one at Libby. Is something wrong with it?"

"You might say that. It was submerged in about fifteen feet of muddy water. The insurance company wants to evaluate as to whether it can be repaired, or if it has to be replaced."

"Oh, shit! I can tell them that without leaving my office. There are over two thousand different slot controls in that system. It would take far longer to clean and test one that had been in muddy water than it would take to build a new one. I'm sure the order entry terminals would have to be replaced, and you can't even buy that terminal any more. The whole system is archaic."

"Oh, God. This is worse than I thought. When you say the system is archaic, what do you mean?"

"Well, it was designed in the mid 1980s. It used a DEC computer that was as slow as a crippled snail, but you could hook up a lot of I/O to it, so it did the job. It used dumb terminals for data entry. The worst part is, that it used a really weird system for communicating with the slot controls. There were eight lines for communications going to each slot control. That limited you to 64 slot controllers on each communication cable. The cables were quirky and there was a lot of cross talk between lines, so there was a lot of false addressing."

"How long would it take to design something that would replace the old system?"

"I knew you were going to ask that. I just don't know. I wouldn't think it would take too long, though, 'specially if we could use the cases from our current slot controllers. We could make it almost transparent to the people using it, that way. The slot controllers are what would take the longest. Everything else would be set up using a few serial ports on a PC."

"Could it be done within a couple of months?"

"Maybe even sooner than that. It'd have to be a crash project, though. If I remember right, Libby's system is fairly simple. The slot controller lights up an LED display, showing the worker how many items are needed from that slot. There can be dozens of orders going through the system at one time; so the slot controller lights up another LED display, showing the order number. When a carton comes along that has that order number on it, the worker packs that many items into the carton. Then he sets it back on the conveyor, and presses a button to show he has completed the order."

"Who do you have, that you could put on a crash project like that?"

Before he could answer, Brenda came back in. I had Marty on speaker phone, so I said, "Hold on, Marty. Brenda has some information for us."

"The airport is open," she said. "The bad news is that there is no electrical power to the building, and the emergency lighting is fading fast. We'll need to take our own lighting with us. Also, anyone who goes will need to wear rubber boots. The guy I talked to said there is at least a half-inch of soupy mud on everything. He also said that anyone coming down, would have to be careful of water snakes. They've had one person bitten, already."

"That's cottonmouth country. I don't envy you, Marty," Gene said.

"Man... Did I get dropped into a sit-com, or something? I'm scared to death of snakes, guys," Marty moaned.

"Well, we'll send a big, strong, burly type with you. He can carry a stick. Now, who can you put on a redesign?"

"Well, I've got one guy, Bob Roberts, who could do the programming. I've been meaning to talk to you about that. Most of the people in this department are drones. Even if I gave them specific instructions of how to design something, they'd take months planning what they were going to do before they even started it. Missy is untried and untested, but I think I'd trust her to get it done over any of the others."

"It looks like it's sink-or-swim time for Missy," I said. "When you get back, we need to talk about replacing your drones. In R&D you need quick, innovative thinkers. I can see how these guys got by, working under Shear; but there's a new Marshal in town, now."

"When do you want me to take off?" Marty asked.

"I think we could put them off until Monday. That'd give you time to get Missy and your programmer lined out on what you want done. Pick someone to go with you, and Brenda will get with the travel agent to get tickets and hotel rooms for you. You should leave sometime on Sunday, and be there bright and early Monday morning."

"Okay, will do. Let me talk to a couple of people, then I'll get back to Brenda," Marty replied.

Missy was bubbling when she met me at lunch.

"I'm going to be working on a crash project," she said with a big grin.

"Gee, I knew that before you did," I said. "I told Marty about the project and asked him who had the best chance of getting it finished. He said that would be you."

"You didn't influence him on that?"

"No. His choice. I'd have preferred he chose someone else. It's going to take away from our together-time."

"Well, Marty's going to be gone for a few days. I may use you as a sounding board for my ideas while he's gone," she grinned.

"Now that might be fun," I grinned. "Of course, you'll have to pay for each bit of information you get from me."

Missy smiled.

"So, when are we going to move your things over?" I asked.

"I was thinking we might move my clothes and personal things over a little each evening. Once all of that is out, we can have everything else put into storage."

"Starting tonight?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'll probably put in a couple of hours of OT, then we could have some dinner, then bring a load over."

I had dinner ready when Missy got home. We sat down to eat, and talked about the project. She was as excited as I had been, when I started on my first project. After we ate, we drove over to her place. We managed to get about half of her clothes packed.

We took them back to my -our- place, and found room for them in the closet and dresser. Missy decided that we really needed to bring her dresser over as well, so we planned on that.

After we had things put away, we snuggled on the couch for a while, and forgot all about Belding and projects. When we went to bed, we made soft, gentle, thoroughly satisfying love.

Week 5 - Thursday

Missy was up long before I was. She was ready to head for work when I was still brushing my teeth. I had experienced the same excitement a few years ago. I told her to go ahead, and that I'd see her at lunch.

Brenda had coffee with me when I arrived at work.

"Where's Missy?" she asked.

"Missy is lost in a creative fog," I said. "Marty selected her to design the new slot controller for Libby. I've been there myself so I know what she's feeling."

"If you hadn't, you might have become jealous of her job," Brenda laughed.