Chapter 42

Tuesday, June 11, 2002

For months, the tactic of leaving the car at Shae's studio and taking the subway on into Manhattan had worked well for Dave, but it was built around the idea that Shae was going to be there anyway. While she had business to deal with at the studio, she also had other business downtown at the WSN office. After considerable discussion, they'd agreed to leave the car at the studio as usual, and she would take the subway on into Manhattan when she'd dealt with the issues there. Dave had no idea how long it was going to take him at Aaron Tietelbaum's office and at the Dunlap and Fyre office, so they decided to just maintain contact with their cell phones, and meet back at the studio at five as a backup.

Even nearing six months of pregnancy Shae wasn't noticeably pregnant, even in the nude, unless you looked closely. She was just so damn big that the baby didn't make any impression. Dave remembered that at six months, Julie had clearly been pregnant, but it wasn't as obvious with Shae. But this morning, with malice aforethought, Shae was wearing an outfit that made her look a couple months further along. Dave knew this was strictly a political move to pull at the studio, and while he and Shae had frequently talked about the issues and personalities involved, he was somewhat detached from it. This would have to be Shae's battle to fight.

Still, when they kissed goodbye in the studio parking lot, she smiled and whispered, "This gets settled today, one way or the other. Wish me luck."

"Back at you," he said. "I think some of my office issues are going to get settled today, too."

The subway headed onto Manhattan was crowded; it was right around the tail end of the rush hour, and Dave felt a little tight for time, as he had an appointment with Aaron Tietelbaum before he went to Dunlap and Fyre. There were several issues he needed to bring up with Aaron, and the question of the half million Stan had raised the day before just added to the list.

As it turned out, there was nothing terribly earth shattering to deal with at the accountant's office, and Aaron's reaction to Dave's suggestion to Stan was fairly simple. "Officially, since we wrote off the money I don't want to hear about it," he said. "Unofficially, you came up with a pretty good solution off the top of your head. It keeps your hands out of it but accomplishes what you want, and that's always nice. You're starting to learn this stuff, Dave."

"No, I'm not," he said. "I just want to get this all in shape so I don't have to worry about it."

"Not going to happen," the little man smiled. "The government and the IRS are always doing something to keep us accountants in business. I'm just glad we've managed to get you through this without too much pain."

"I was telling Shae yesterday that she and I are creative people, not business people," Dave replied. "I'd just as soon keep it that way. Shae and I have some friends who like to take their guitars and set up in some mall with open gig bags, you know, like we see on the streets around here. They're creative people, and I'd be willing to bet good money that the IRS doesn't hear about one damn dime that lands in the gig bags."

"Sooner or later they're going to get their butts burned for not reporting it," Aaron said. "But the battle between the creative types and the business types is always there. Hell, I wouldn't have a business if it wasn't for it. You take care, Dave. I'll see you in a couple months or so, but don't be afraid to call if something comes up or you have questions."

The streets were busy as Dave walked the several blocks to the Ford building. He'd talked to Michelle once or twice a week over the past month, but he hadn't wanted to come right out and ask her what she thought of the book proposal he'd left her on his previous trip.

Knowing how busy Michelle was, Dave had set up an appointment for 10:30 with her, and as it turned out he was a little early; she was on the phone in the overcrowded office, as was normally the case. Once again, Dave looked around the jam-packed, confused mess and was glad he didn't have to try to work here.

"Holy Christ," Michelle said when she finally managed to hang up the phone. "I don't know why it always seems like one of those mornings when you show up here, except maybe for the fact that every morning is one of those mornings. Rob wants to see you first thing, so let's head into his office before the phone goes off again."

There were several things that visit could be about, but Dave was most afraid it was going to be a serious offer to move him up in the office hierarchy. He'd made up his mind months ago that Dunlap and Fyre could no longer afford to pay him enough to get him to take any of the positions that had been mentioned. However, since the option of doing editing part time or on a contract basis still hung out there he didn't want to brush it off too brusquely. And the book lay there, too, for whatever it was worth.

When he and Michelle walked into the office, Dick was already there, talking with Rob. "Have a seat, Dave, if you can find one," Rob said. "We've got several things to run past you."

"That's what I'm here for," Dave smiled.

"First things first," Michelle said. "This book proposal you brought in the last time you were here. I've had half a dozen people look it over, and the worst comment I've had is, 'Holy Christ, this is good.' Well, with the exception of Rayme, who thought it was shit, but his opinion no longer matters."

"It doesn't?" Dave said. "The impression I had the last time I was here was he was pretty certain to take your job, Dick."

"Well, he's not," Rob said flatly. "In fact, he's out the door. He gave too many people the impression it was a done deal, and it was never more than a long shot. When he trashed this book proposal, he proved he didn't know anything about science fiction or fantasy, and we couldn't have him overseeing the department no matter who was running it. For that matter, I haven't been all that pleased with the general fiction he'd been putting out, either. Anyway, Michelle is going to be taking over Dick's job at the end of the year, so we need to renew the idea of your taking over her job."

Well, good news and bad news right there. "I've thought about it some," he said tentatively, not giving any hint of the answer he'd already worked out.

"I know you think this is a zoo," Rob said. "And you're right, it is. I can't imagine how bad it would be if we didn't have half the staff working at home. That has worked pretty well and I think we're going to continue it in a fairly large way when we move back to the old offices."

"We're moving back?" Dave said in surprise. "I thought the building was so bad they were going to drop it."

"That's what we thought until a couple months ago," Rob said. "But it turns out that while the facade took a beating it's still structurally sound. We haven't been given a date we can move back in, but it won't be in the next couple months, and could be six months to a year. It'll take a bit of the pressure off. But there's something else that figures in, and that's this book proposal Michelle brought to me. God, it's dark for fantasy, but I think it says things that should be said. Now, I notice there's no title or author listed. Can you fill us in a little?"

Oh, hell, Dave thought. For better or worse, it was time to come all the way clean, especially knowing that they liked the book. "There's a reason the author's name isn't on it," he said. "The working title at the moment is Slave of Sinsy, but it's changed a few times, and I'm open to suggestions."

"You're open to suggestions?" Michelle grinned. "Dick, that's five bucks you owe me."

"I voted with Michelle," Rob grinned. "I thought the dark, antifundamentalist message had to be something that came from the heart. Dick said he thought it must have been some friend of yours, like that big gal you had at the Christmas party."

"No, she just does kids' stuff," Dave smiled. "She doesn't look at things that darkly. By the way, we're getting married on August fourth in Bradford, and we hope to be in our new house before the baby arrives. The three of you and your spouses are invited to the wedding, but we haven't gotten out formal invitations yet."

"Boy, you don't mess around, do you?" Rob grinned. "I take what you just said to mean you're not interested in becoming science fiction chief editor at Dunlap and Fyre, right?"

"Not unless I can do it online," Dave said flatly. "I still miss Julie a lot, and I have yet to be able to get up the whatever it takes to go down to the World Trade Center site. I cannot imagine how I could ever work in the old offices overlooking it." That wasn't totally a lie; it would have been difficult. A visit, maybe once in a while -- but day to day would be intolerable. But right now, it was a solid gold excuse that was irresistible.

"Not surprising," Dick said. "Michelle, that's my five bucks back."

"Well, at least we got that settled now," Rob said. "How close are you to finishing this dark fantasy of yours?"

"Not real close," Dave replied. "It's never been my first priority, and it's gotten squeezed out at times, although I try to do a little each day. I wanted to see if I could write fantasy. The darkness came from reflections on Julie's death, and really, it's been therapeutic. I deliberately didn't put my name on it because I didn't want you judging it as something coming from someone in-house."

"I figured that," Rob said. "You're not the first person in the business to do it this way, either. I'm just glad you didn't decide to take it elsewhere, because I think this one can be a breakthrough into mainstream, sort of like The Handmaiden's Tale. So, the next question: would a $50,000 advance get it done in the next six months or so?"

"Rob," Dave said. "If you want to publish it and push it, not just as a favor to an employee but as a potential best seller, then a five-dollar advance would be enough. Like I said, I wanted to write fantasy, but this story was what came out, and I think it demands to be told. I know this is going to sound strange, but the money is secondary, at best. The book is, in its way, my monument to Julie. It's a vision of what could happen if we let those bastards have their way."