The Royal Family (21 page)

Twenty thousand.

Are you recording this call?

What if I tell you I’m not?

I wouldn’t believe you.

What if I told you I was?

I’d figure you were trying to entrap me.

So you don’t want the twenty thousand?

I don’t break the law, period.

And I’m not asking you to break the law.

Dandy, said Tyler. Glad we got that crap out of the way.

By the way, I’m not recording.

I am, Tyler lied with a laugh.

Look, Mr. Tyler, if you—

Do they manufacture on site?

Yes, sir.

Gallium arsenide? That’s a pretty toxic process, I understand.

I believe so.

Well, let me do some looking around. I’ll call you back.

He called up his friend Rod on the force down in Palo Alto, and Rod said that the job wasn’t a sting that he knew of. Be careful, though, was Rod’s unsolicited and unnecessary advice.

He called up RoboGraphix and asked the secretary to send him a copy of the press release on the SBD-9000 chip.

What chip is that, sir? said the receptionist.

I’m on assignment for
Computer Currents
to write an article about you, said Tyler. It’s all over town that you have a fabulous new chip coming out.

Just a moment, sir. I’ll let you speak with one of our technical staff.

Yeah, who’s this? said the next voice on the line—a weary, suspicious, middle-aged male voice.

Yes, sir, my name is Charles Ångstrom, you know, as in wavelength, and I’m freelancing a piece for—

Yeah, who you with?

Computer Currents.

Who’s your editor over there?

Who am I dealing with, sir? said Tyler in his silkiest voice.

This is Hal Nemeth in the technical department, the voice said.

Well, Mr. Nemeth, I’ll be frank with you. I’m writing this article on spec. I have some friends in Silicon Valley who tell me that what you guys are about to release is pretty special . . .

Where are you calling from?

Menlo Park, said Tyler, which was true; he’d driven down for the occasion, and was calling from a pay phone there, between a big billboard for Caesar’s Palace and another for an upcoming club entitled Feminine Circus.

Look, Hal Nemeth said. You’re probably OK, but for certain reasons I can’t really get into, we prefer not to publicize anything yet. If you want me to transfer you back to Judy, she can put your mailing address into the database so that you get a copy of the press release.

Sure, I understand, said Tyler ingratiatingly. Thanks for your time.

Do you want me to transfer you?

Sure. Judy has a nice voice.

Hal Nemeth grunted sourly, and there was a click, and the next thing he knew the receptionist was saying: RoboGraphix. May I help you?

Is this Judy? he said.

Yes, this is Judy. How may I help you, sir?

Judy, this is Chuck Wildmore. I don’t know if you remember me, but my sister Karen has been trying to reach you.

Karen? I don’t know any Karen.

Your name is Judy, right?

Yes. But—

And you work for RoboGraphix?

Obviously this is RoboGraphix. Who—

Well, you
must
be the one, he insisted, enjoying what in the industry they called a “gag call.”—She’s in the hospital right now, which is why she asked me to call you. It’s kind of important to her.

But I’ve told you I don’t know anybody named Karen, said the woman in stony exasperation.

Well, I apologize for bothering you, but Karen said it was important. She’s in intensive care, you understand. You know, where they put those tubes into your arms. They say if you go in there you have a forty percent chance of coming out.

I’m sorry, the woman said reflexively.

She says you were a friend of hers a long time ago, and she wanted to see you.

Some friend. I—

Look. Would you mind giving her a jingle at the hospital? Or—no, that’s going to be a hassle for you. How about if I—

But I don’t know any Karen! the receptionist said plaintively. Can I put you on hold? I’ve got another call.

Sure, said Tyler. I’ll wait.

He listened to the tinny music, and then Judy picked up the phone and said: RoboGraphix. May I help you?

Hi, Judy. This is Karen’s brother.

Listen, Judy said, weren’t you the guy I transferred to Mr. Nemeth?

Mr. Nemeth? Who’s that? Listen, Judy, if you don’t want to talk to my sister why don’t you just say so? I’m trying to help her out. I don’t know what this is about, because we went our separate ways for years, if you see what I’m saying, but now she’s . . . Anyway, I guess I was wrong to bother you. Thanks for your time. I’ll tell Karen you were unavailable.

The girl hesitated. —What hospital is she in?

San Francisco General. No health insurance. It’s pretty chaotic up there, so if you call you might not get through.

I’m sorry, Judy said again. (Closing his eyes, he remembered Irene boredly picking at her fingernails.) Look, I have to go. There are three calls waiting. If your sister wants to call, I’m in the book.

All right, Judy. I’ll pass that along. Has your last name changed since she knew you?

No, I’m not married, she said, her voice dark, foggy and lost like beer bottles on the bottom shelf of a refrigerator case. My last name is Knowles, and I’m in the book.

For Palo Alto?

Sunnyvale.

Thanks a million, Judy. I guess it will mean a lot to her to speak with you, said Tyler, hanging up.

He called Dan Smooth about that drink on Friday at eight o’clock. He had to go to L.A., he said. Could they reschedule? Dan Smooth, momentarily as silent as the grating-sealed shops late at night in Chinatown, said at length that they could. He called his mother, who was having chest pains. He called his answering machine, but there was no new business.

He drove down to Los Angeles for another of what he called his secret visits, and after he had done his business there he telephoned his old friend Jake, a downsized engineer. He asked if there were any special place in an office where a small company would be inclined to store secret chips.

Well, said Jake, you start with any kind of chip you’re going to make in an exotic environment, it needn’t be a big place. If you’re going to hide things, it’s going to be by classifying the whole place.

They’ve done that. And then how would they store the actual chip? Would they have to keep it in a refrigerator or something like that?

Don’t expose it to any strong electromagnetic fields, or it’ll get fried, said Jake. That’s the thing. Well, actually I don’t know about
field,
but
pulse
is certainly a problem. You just want to put it in a conductive piece of rubber or foam to keep it from being shorted out. . .

And then I suppose you’d keep it in a safe . . .

The principal investigator’s desk drawer might be good. The safe is more sexy, of course . . .

Okay, so the principal investigator has got to investigate it. He’s got to make sure that it’s good, I guess.

Right. He verifies that it’s good by using a device called a comparator, which basically
projects magnified images of a chip onto a ground glass circle. Well, that’s old technology now. A chip can be as complicated as the Thomas Guide.

I get it, said Tyler, narrowing his eyes. Anyhow, the principal investigator will be sitting at his desk, doing something with the chip. Maybe he’ll project a digitized image of it onto his computer screen. Maybe he’ll have a comparator. It really doesn’t matter, just as long as I have some idea where the chip is. Thanks, Jake.

He let the rest of the week go by and then called Judy at home on Saturday morning. —Judy, this is Chuck Wildmore again, he said, picking his nose. I’m sorry that Karen never called you. She died on the operating table. She didn’t regain consciousness.

Look, said Judy unpleasantly, I’ve been trying to think who this Karen might be, but I’m drawing a blank. I’ve never, ever known anybody named Karen except for one girl in third grade who hated me. I think you’re confused. I’m sorry for your loss, but I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t call me anymore.

Karen left you something in her will, he replied with equal coldness. I’ll let our attorney know that you refuse delivery. Goodbye.

Now at last he had her, for an avaricious curiosity came into the girl’s dull and hostile voice, and she said quickly: What did she leave me?

I guess that’s not your concern, said Tyler snappishly, since you refuse any connection with the family. I’m sorry I ever called you. Don’t worry, Judy. You won’t hear from me again.

Then tell your lawyer to get in touch with me.

Every time a lawyer talks to you about baseball you have to pay for his time, said Tyler, his voice now modulated to the melodies of patience. Judy’s estate is dirt poor, and I don’t have much myself, so with all due respect I’m not paying for an extra hour of legal consultation just to have his secretary mail you something you probably won’t appreciate.

What do you mean I won’t appreciate it? You don’t even know me. Where do you get off trying to define me?

I wasn’t trying to define you, Judy.

Well, what did Karen leave me?

It’s a little velvet box, with—do you want me to open it? I haven’t looked inside. I didn’t figure I had that right.

Yeah, the girl said carelessly, why don’t you open it?

There’s a ribbon around it, said Tyler, impressing even himself with this improvisation. Do you want me to undo the bow?

No, that’s okay, she said finally. Why don’t you send it to me?

I’ll send it to your office then, he said. It may be a couple of weeks before I get to the post office. I’m kind of in a state of shock right now, to tell you the truth.

Mr. Wildmore, I—

I don’t know whether to send it registered or not. It may be valuable. What do you think?

Cupidity won out, or maybe just good manners. —Look, Mr. Wildmore, the girl said, where are you?

Menlo Park at the moment. But I need to be in San Francisco at three-thirty to claim the body.

And you have the box?

Yeah. I have the box.

I thought you said the lawyer had it.

Judy, I’m getting kind of tired of being interrogated.

I’m sorry. You want to do lunch?

Tyler pretended to hesitate, then said in his best grudging voice: I guess I have time to meet you for lunch if you want.

And you’ll bring the box?

Sure.

The girl sighed. —You’re sure you’re not a nutcase?

I’m not a nutcase, said Tyler. I’m not even a nut. Where do you want to meet me?

Are you near a Sizzler’s? I always like eating at Sizzler’s.

Sure, said Tyler. I like their surf ’n’ turf. Karen was also very fond of Sizzler’s.

She was? Gosh, I wish I remembered her.

She was an awfully special person, he said, pretending that he was talking about Irene so that his voice would get properly sad. He closed his eyes and saw the mole on Irene’s forehead. His grief rushed in and carried him safely along.

He recollected something that another prophet had once told him: Your generic secretary is not a secretary by choice. Who picks a crappy job like that, all responsibility and no power? They start off like that because their Nazi husbands don’t allow them to have any job that’s higher status than that, and after the divorce they’re stuck. Secretaries hate their jobs, Henry. That’s why all the hackers get what they want by just calling them up.

I’ve seen plenty of secretaries with power, Tyler had countered. Plenty of old dragons. Plenty of smart ladies who know where all the bodies are buried.

Yeah, I’m talking about the young ones, his friend had said. Those poor, trapped young broads. It’s just like being a whore except the pay’s not as good.

Are you there? Judy was saying.

Yeah.

Look, I’m sorry if I was maybe a little bit suspicious. It’s just that, like, some things have happened to me before, you know, guys taking advantage of me and stuff.

I understand, he said. Then, thinking of Irene, he muttered: Jesus, I wish I could put my arms around her right now.

Are you sure you’re going to be okay? the girl said, obviously not wanting to sustain some stranger’s neediness.

Hm? Sure, I’ll be fine. See you at Sizzler’s, then. How about in two hours?

Okay, she said softly. ’Bye.

’Bye, he said.

Tyler went out and cadged a velvet box from a jewelry store. He took from his keyring an old key from an office in Emeryville where he hadn’t worked for twelve years; he’d always known that that key would come in handy someday. He put the key inside the box and tied a ribbon around it. Considering carefully, he went back to the jewelry store and bought a gilded silver pendant so that the girl wouldn’t be completely disappointed, and enclosed that with the key.