The Luddite Conspiracy Ch. 01

Spilling out of the room, they saw Neil rushing down the carpeted hallway. "Neil!" David shouted, but before they could hope to catch up he was around the corner and gone. David and Cecile started to follow, but Paul caught them by the arms.

"What the fuck is going on?" Cecile asked, bewildered. "What's he so upset about?"

"Christi," he said. "He's upset about Christi. Just...just let him go."

Cecile turned and stared at Paul blankly. "Who the hell is Christi?"

-=-=-

Neil Fenner sat in his car in the parking ramp, his key jutting outward from his hand like a knife. Like a promise. He gazed blankly at the wall in front of him, hearing his daughter's voice, small and free, ring out in his head.

"Daddy, Look!" she cried gleefully. "It's snowing!"

Then the car folded in, as the drunk who had sped through the red light smashed into them. And even though Neil never allowed himself to think of the events that followed, they were always there. Every minute of every day they crouched just below the surface, hungry scavengers posing as memories. Wanting only to get out. Wanting it with a drive and fire that only a rabid, starving animal could know.

He felt his hand shake, saw the key vibrating in the air, and wondered what the four year old girl who died six weeks ago in a vehicle he'd designed had said to his father, as the car rolled uncontrollably into oncoming traffic. He wondered what innocent words would be ringing in that father's ears for the rest of his life. And, for the first time, he wondered if it were possible that his designs really were faulty.

He wondered if it really could be his fault. Just like Christi was his fault.

He'd never even looked as they hit the intersection. His own light was green, and that was all there was. He'd rolled into the open space with the confident senility that a lifetime of following the traffic laws provided. A simple twist of his head to the left would have told him everything he needed to know. Would have shown the speeding vehicle as it sailed well past the point of being able to stop in time.

But he'd had too much faith in the rule of laws, and in the rule of right.

Had he done that again? Had he grown so complacent in his understanding of the rules that he'd forgotten that some things operate outside them? Had he missed some small piece of minutiae that had ruined everything? He looked over his shoulder at the back seat of the car.

"I'm so sorry, honey," he said to no one, and no one responded.

Then he stabbed the key into its place, started the car, and drove away.

-=-=-

"Jesus. I never knew," Cecile shook his head. He looked almost ill.

"It's not generally a topic of conversation," Paul observed. He pulled on his cigarette and winced.

"That's why he's so focused on safety with our designs, isn't it?" the younger man asked.

A nod. "This company's safety rating has gone through the roof thanks to Neil Fenner. That's why this whole thing seems so ridiculous."

"How long ago was all this?" Cecile asked.

"Little over two years," David answered, scratching his hairless cranium. "He never really talked about it. At least not around here."

"Well, he's a quiet guy."

"Didn't used to be," Paul said softly. "Not. At. All. Neil used to be about as cheerful and funny as anyone you've ever met."

A weary expression passed over Cecile's face, sunk his features low, then disappearing completely. "I'm surprised he came back," he said.

"I'm not sure he ever really did. But he seems to find some kind of solace in the work, and especially in making our vehicles especially safe. He's not pushing safety for the awards, kid."

Cecile looked down at his feet for a minute, and then he looked back up at his coworkers. "What's going to happen to us now?"

Paul opened his mouth to reprimand the youth for even asking that question, but was interrupted.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Tracy's voice fluttered towards them like a wobbly butterfly. She strode down the hallway, smiling as though nothing concerning had occurred, with the lawyer scurrying behind her. "Whether or not Mr. Fenner decides to pursue his decision, and regardless of recent events, I think that we can all agree that this team has a history of being effective. Whatever else, it should remain intact. This event is going to be traumatic enough for the company without us going around reorganizing staff and splitting people up. Somebody will just have to take his place." She let her eyes drift over them each appraisingly, and Cecile blushed.

"Yeah, well, it's a little early for us to start packing up the man's desk." Paul noted. "He may calm down. Hell, he may even come back fighting. Besides, Neil's shoes would be damned hard to fill."

"Oh," Tracy gave him a knowing look, "I'm sure we'll be able to fill them one way or the other. It would be a promotional step for any man in this room to take Fenner's job. Isn't that right? And if none of you are interested, then this building is full of talent. Surely someone, somewhere, will be prepared to say yes." She licked her lips. "Don't you think, Paul?"

Paul raised an eyebrow in her direction, and took a pull from his cigarette.

-=-=-

"You're home early," Gina smiled as she peaked her head around the corner. "I was just getting ready to go..." the pleasant surprise slipped from her face as she saw the pensive darkness her husband wore."Is something wrong?"

Neil blinked and looked at her, his thoughtfulness turning achingly sad for a minute. Then he looked away. "No. No, nothing's...well, I quit my job today."

"What?!" She rushed forward, reaching out for him. "What happened?"

He looked down at her, at the concern evident in her eyes.

I think I let it happen again, Gina. She had somebody else's face and somebody else's name, but that didn't matter at all. I didn't save her again. I'm sorry.

"Nothing happened," he said reflexively, knowing that neither of them bought it.

Gina's lips narrowed, which on her small face produced an effect not totally dissimilar to a child's attempts to be bossy. "Honey, don't do this. Don't close me out again. Not like before."

What am I supposed to say? Please tell me that.

"I...I just don't want to work there anymore. We'll be okay. I'll find something else, and...We've got a pretty good nest egg."

"It's not the money I'm worried about."

"Okay. Good. Then you don't have to worry at all." He stepped back, taking her hands away from his arms. "Everything's fine. I'm going to go for a walk. I just need to get some air."

"I'll come with you."

He turned away. "I need to be alone." And then he was gone.

Gina stared at the closed door and put her hand over the tightness in her stomach. Her husband withdrew when he was upset. It could be a frustrating trait in the worst of times, making her feel isolated and unable to help. Sometimes a storm would rage and pass in a day, and she'd never even know what had caused it. Or if there was anything she might have done to help him. It was also something they'd worked on improving in their counseling sessions after Christi's death. Their counselor had assured Gina that Neil was aware and even desirous of sharing his feelings with her...it was normal after a traumatic event for some men to retreat from their feelings, and to have great difficulty expressing themselves. It was just as normal for them to try and contain their emotions about the trauma, to try and refuse them, leading to a cycle of reserved, isolating, misery. Neil was something of a textbook case. Men had a greater tendency to self-blame, to hold themselves accountable unrealistically in the face of tragedy. They were supposed to protect the people around them, especially women and children, and when they did not the guilt could eat away at them like an incurable cancer. This was Neil all over.

But he'd come to accept that he had to try and verbalize his pain, for the sake of their marriage and his own life. And, for the last year and a half, he had made that effort. Things had improved slowly, ultimately getting so much better that Gina had hoped the dark times were behind them.

What had happened at work today that could undo all that? What could be that big? What had caused her husband to close himself off to her again? What could possibly make him quit his job?

She cursed quietly and sat down at the table, facing the door.

"If you think I'm going to make this easy for you, Neil Fenner, you've got another thing coming," she muttered under her breath.

-=-=-

Tracy Bunkley tapped her fingers absently on her mahogany desk and rocked softly in her leather office chair. It was a comfortably cushioned seat, and something of a rarity in the office. Tracy had bought it herself when she'd first been promoted to project manager. High backed and regal, it looked delightfully intimidating behind her dark maroon desk. And the fact that she always kept it raised up only heightened the effect. It allowed her to tower over her project members whenever she summoned them, as they sat in the comparatively short low-back guest chairs.

Any other woman might have been made to look child-like, sitting in Daddy's oversized office chair and playing with the items on his desk, by these decisions. But at one inch short of six foot, Tracy was no ordinary woman. And the heeled pumps she always wore gave her more than that needed extra inch.

Tracy knew she had to use every advantage she could, working in an industry that remained very much a boys' club. Especially since her gift was for manipulating people, not schematics. She struggled with most of the concepts related to the work, but she'd always been able to influence the boys around her, and that had made her climb to management easy. Project manager was a job she did well, and one she enjoyed.

Until Neil Fenner started to become the fair-haired golden child, in the eyes of the top brass, and became a very real threat. Between his newly shining star and the growing grumbles from Human Resources about her "lack of rapport" with the engineers, Tracy could read the writing on the wall. Undoubtedly, there were people in the board room already contemplating just how low a severance they could get away with offering the unpleasant woman with the adequate record and no friends. A severance, of course, that would end her career in the auto industry. But Tracy would not go quietly into the night. She knew she was good at her job. Neil Fenner couldn't do what she did. He was just an engineer. A good one, sure, but too reserved to be a leader of men. Too much of a thinker, too slow to act. And she would never allow him to take her place. She had already taken careful steps to eliminate him as a problem forever, and they were rapidly coming to fruition.

The door opened unceremoniously, and Cecile Schaeffer stormed in. He slammed it roughly behind him, turning a red face and puppy dog eyes toward his boss. The look on his boyish face was that of one whose faith has been deeply and unexpectedly shaken. He was twenty-five, but Tracy sometimes felt like he behaved even younger than that.

"You didn't tell me about his daughter," he said quietly. "You didn't tell me that she died in a car accident."

"It didn't seem important at the time," Tracy waved dismissively. "We didn't expect any major accidents or fatalities to occur, remember? Nobody was supposed to get hurt, so the man's history was irrelevant. Think about it for a minute, Cecile. Would it really have made any difference, if I'd told you? Would it have changed your mind? I doubt it. If you'd thought at all that people might actually die, you would never have signed on for this. Neither would I. We knew we were taking a calculated risk, yes, but the danger was infinitesimal. We never dreamed something this ugly might happen. We tried to be careful enough not to let it happen."

"And we failed." He looked so tragically forlorn as he said it that she sympathized a little. He was so young, still, and so naive. He had no idea how little these people cared for each other. And now he had this weight on his shoulders that he was too idealistic to shake off.

But she also knew how dangerous to both of them his conscience could be, if left unchecked, so she chose her words carefully.

"You can't go blaming yourself for events beyond your control," she said in her best soothing Mommy voice. "There's no way to predict people. They are the worst sort of equation. Anyway, the teens that killed that poor child were speeding. People who die in speeding accidents die because they were speeding, not because of the man who built the accelerator."

He didn't say anything. Tracy could almost hear him willing it to be true. Finally, he shook his head. "What happens now?"

"Now we make sure that Neil Fenner's exodus is as painless for all involved as possible. In a way, this will work out better for him than we planned. Instead of the FMEA team concluding that his work was shoddy and costing him his job, he can quit with recommendations and severance. Neil will be a man with a clean resume and the world at his fingertips. He's hurting now, but I promise you that this is all going to work out in the end."

"I hope so," Cecile looked out the window.

Tracy fought the urge to roll her eyes, and almost lost. "He'll be fine. I'll call and arrange for a gentle, timely exit, and then I'll offer Paul Keegan the job." The boy's eyes flashed annoyance, and she held up her hands. "He'll never take it. It's been offered before. He refused it then, and he'll refuse it now. He doesn't want to have to be in charge of other people, you see. But I have to offer it. He's the logical choice. I can't very well start out by offering the head job to the team's junior member, can I?"

He thought about that. "Then what about Kearns? He's above me. Do we have to offer it to him, too? I think he'd say yes." In his expression, he gave her his fear.

"He probably would, if we offered it. But we won't be, so it doesn't matter. You see, up until a few years back David Kearns was a very uneven employee. Drank too much, made some bad choices, and ended up in AA. There are some ugly marks on his record. I can use that to justify passing him by."

"David's an alcoholic?" He looked shocked.

"Yup. An especially destructive one, at that."

"What made him give it up?"

Tracy licked her lips. Neil Fenner had made him give it up, from what little she'd managed to overhear. But nobody ever told her shit...they all clam up when a powerful woman enters the room. Fucking cowards, men. "I think it was work related," she smiled. "I don't know any more than that."

"Oh." Cecile went back to looking out the window. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It wasn't worth people dying."

She bit back a sharp response. "That kid died because of some stupid teenagers. Teenagers who were speeding and acting like idiots. Not because of you. The lawsuits were inevitable and will settle well below what they've asked. They're inconsequential. Fenner quit because of his own personal demons. He was going to end up fired anyway. So tell me," she leaned back, "why are you seeing only misery? You're going to get what you want. You're going to be a development engineer by the age of 26. That's something."

He shook his head, not turning around. "I never thought about it. I just...even the recalls were too much. I didn't think the changes I made were that big." He turned to look at her. "Just enough not to be noticed at first, you know? Just enough to seem wrong, or cause a few minor problems. Not this."

Tracy knew she needed to kill the snowballing guilt before he let it affect his decisions. "Let me call Neil and discuss his decision to leave. Then I'll contact HR and make sure he gets the maximum severance they can justify. OK? He'll end up walking with a clean record and he'll probably get an offer from a bigger company that makes his salary here look like a child's allowance. He's a legend out there, and he's been stagnating in this dump. You've done him a favor, Cecile...even if he doesn't know it yet. Even if he never knows it. You're the best thing that could have happened to him."

"What should I do?"

"Go back to work, and come by my place around seven tonight. We'll talk then. And Cecile?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't ever come barging in here like this again. If anybody suspects favoritism it will ruin your chances."

After he'd left, she picked up the phone and pulled up her records on the computer.

-=-=-

Gina was still sitting, waiting for her husband to come home, when the phone's electronic cry jerked her into awareness. She hopped up, glancing at the time and wondering if there was some way it might be Neil on the phone.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hi. This is Tracy Bunkley. I'm calling for Neil Fenner."

Tracy Bunkley...Gina recognized the name. Neil's boss. She also remembered that Neil had a vague dislike for the woman, though he'd never said much about her. He didn't enjoy talking people down, and anyway she didn't get the impression that they worked together much. "This is his wife," she said, "Gina. Neil's not here right now, I'm afraid."

"I see," the woman sounded bored. "Can you have him call me when he gets back?"

"May I ask what about?" she asked, hoping the answer might give her some insight.

"Neil hasn't...said anything to you? About what happened today?" the voice suddenly sounded much more interested.

"I'm afraid not. My husband is a quiet man when he's upset. Whatever happened, it clearly bothered him. He won't share any details with me. He told me that he quit?"

A scoff. "Is that what he called it?"

"I don't understand. Is that wrong? Surely he wasn't fired."

There was a very pregnant pause. Then the woman responded using slow, carefully phrased words. "I'm not really allowed to share those kinds of details..."

"Please," she pleaded. "I'm begging you, one woman to another. I won't tell anyone."

"You'll tell your husband, I'd think. And he would not appreciate me saying."

"I won't. Just give me an idea so I know how to help him. He'll never know. I swear."

Another pause, and then the lady sighed. "I will tell you, Mrs. Fenner, that your husband will probably not be working for us anymore. There was a closed door meeting today regarding a gravely serious issue. Neil was...involved...and after it concluded he immediately vacated the building."

"On his own, or because he had to?"

"Mr. Fenner was highly emotional, but he did not require an escort."

"So Neil really was fired?" she gasped.

"Things are complicated right now. There are still decisions being made, but I'm not sure what the final result will be. Neil has a lot of friends, and they are worried about him. But I'd like to point out that firings do occur, and sometimes they happen for very strange reasons."

"Is it about the recalls? The Technica? Is he being fired for that?"

"Neil Fenner was not fired regarding the recall issue." the woman was still speaking slowly, as if choosing her words very carefully. It was obvious to Gina that a great deal was being said between the lines.

She blinked, trying to think of what it could mean. "But he didn't quit?"

"Neil always seemed happy here. Do you know of a reason he might suddenly get so upset that he would just quit?"

"I don't. Do...do you?"

"I honestly can't think of anything that allows me to imagine Neil reasonably wanting to leave this company. Like I said, he always seemed to like it here."

"But why would he be fired? Especially if not for the recall?"

"Nobody is saying that he's been fired, or that he will be fired," the woman said. "It's one of the big truths, though, that companies do decide to part ways with employees for all sorts of reasons...many of them not performance related. In fact, just yesterday we had to let one of the assistants in Neil's department go. We found out that this particular woman was sleeping with one of the development engineers...a married man, if you can believe that." that last sentence was particularly drawn out, and Gina felt a chill. "Apparently, the affair had gone on for more than a year."