The Luddite Conspiracy Ch. 01

"That's terrible!"

"More than you know."

"It wasn't Neil, though," she insisted.

The woman was silent for a moment. "I'm not really comfortable with this conversation, Mrs Fenner. I'm sorry. I feel like I've crossed a line here."

"Can't you tell me anything else?"

"I'm sorry."

"Okay. I understand. Thanks for your help."

"Of course. And have Neil call me. We'll see if we can't do something to help him out."

"I will. Thanks again."

She hung up.

-=-=-

Tracy snickered as she placed the phone on the cradle. She had been prepared to try and gently discourage Neil Fenner from changing his mind and coming back. What she'd gotten instead, while probably nothing special, had delightful potential. Neil's internal demeanor could very well become his greatest weakness, if his stupid little wife had even the tiniest amount of paranoia or insecurity. More than likely nothing would come of it, but life is often lived in the realm of possibility. And, really, even playing the game was entertainment enough.

None of what she had said was untrue or slanderous. She had simply encouraged the idea that Neil had been fired, maybe for fraternization, without ever saying so or even downplaying the alternatives. Her phrasing was....let's call it mostly true. A woman had been let go the day before for an incident related to an affair with a married engineer, although it was a little bit of a stretch to say she worked in Fenner's department. Tracy doubted if Neil had ever even spoken with the bitch. Also, the stupid whore wasn't fired for fucking the guy. She was fired for trying to hit him in the face with a coffee mug after she left her husband and he got cold feet about leaving his wife. Still, a stretch is not a lie. Weak women disgusted Tracy, sure, but even they had their uses.

She laughed to herself, reclined in her oversized chair, and tried to imagine what was going on in the mind of Mrs. Neil Fenner right at that moment.

-=-=-

Gina was still staring at the phone, trying to sort out what she'd heard.

She couldn't imagine any realistic scenario that would include Neil having an affair. It just wasn't in the man. He couldn't hurt anyone that much, least of all her. But she also couldn't think of any other plausible message in the words she'd just heard. How could both her instincts and the events at hand be true? It didn't make any sense.

Of course, Neil had a clear dislike for that woman. Maybe it was mutual, and the carefully phrased words were not to be trusted. She bit her lip and thought on that. She needed to take what she knew was true, match it to what she understood of Neil, and only use Ms. Bunkley's words to fill in gaps as needed. She couldn't go starting with that woman's subtle accusations first, because-

The phone rang again. She grabbed it immediately.

"Hello?" she said again.

"Hi, Gina?" a familiar, phlegmy voice asked.

"Paul. Hi. It's been a long time."

"It has."

"I'm glad you called. Neil's not home, but I need your help. He's closing up again."

"Has he said anything so far?"

Gina thought about it for a second. She knew why Paul was asking. He had always respected Neil's quiet privacy. Gina had, too, until it overtook him and excluded her after Christi's death. Paul would not share information that he thought Neil had not already shared, out of loyalty. "He told me most of it, I think," she lied. "All about the meeting, and what was said, anyway. I just need an observer's insights. He won't tell me what happens next, you know?"

"He's not there now?"

"He went for a walk."

Paul clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and the sound carried through the phone. "Well, this morning-" his voice cut out for a second. When it came back, it was interrupted rhythmically by his own call waiting announcement. "I'm sorry, Gina. I have a call coming in. All I can say is---- not his fault. Don't let him tell you otherwise. It's all that bitch's ---- don't know how, but s---- right. And now she's trying to seduce me---- happening. I'm sorry, I have to go. Bye."

"Bye," Gina said absently, placing the phone on the cradle.

That bitches fault? Now she's trying to seduce Paul into something? It's not Neil's fault?

Goddamn it! What's not Neil's fault?

Just yesterday, we had to let one of the assistants go. She was sleeping with a married man. A development engineer.

No. No, that wasn't Neil. He was too good a man for that.

Gina sat down again, uncertainty splashing rhythmically in like an ocean tide, and waited for her husband.

-=-=-

Paul clicked over, expecting to hear the voice of his brother in South Dakota. Instead, he got a tired sounding greeting from Neil.

"Hey," he said. "I was just trying to reach you."

"Yeah, well...I'm out for a walk. Listen, I know I rushed out of there today. I'm not really going to quit. That was just...it was stupid, but I needed to get away. I called HR and took two weeks leave."

"Tracy will be disappointed. She's already tried seducing me into taking your job."

"Somehow, I doubt you told her yes."

"And somehow, you're right. But I don't like the way this is playing out. You should have seen the look on her face when she came out of that meeting. It was like Christmas. I think she's got an agenda of some kind."

"She usually does. I've been thinking about that, too. I'm going to give you a name and a number to call. Do it today. Scratch that. I'll give you his e-mail address instead. I want all our communications documented, where possible." He took a deep breath. "Something's very wrong here, and I think this guy can help us."

"Then why don't you contact him?"

"If Tracy's working towards an end, you can bet it's mine. I'll be on two weeks leave, and I've asked David to very quietly take all my personal stuff from out of my office. I doubt it could be done so quietly that Tracy Bunkley won't know it happened, but I want her to think I'm sneaking away."

"That you're getting ready to quit."

"Yup. Her guard may come down, if she thinks she's already won."

"You don't think she's responsible for the design flaw, do you?"

"No. Tracy's not capable enough an engineer to do that. And, to be honest, I don't want to believe that she's that heartless. People died, Paul."

"I know. Are you okay?"

"Honestly? Maybe that little girl's death really was my fault. I can't live that way."

"What will you do?"

Neil hesitated. "I'm going to take a little trip. By myself."

"Where?"

"Never mind. I'll be alright."

Paul frowned. "Neil? Have you told Gina any of this?"

There was a long pause. "I...can't."

"You need to say something. She's prying, and she's probably very scared for you."

"After my trip. I think....I need to do something first. To bring this back down to earth. Right now I have this pressure on my chest, and it's killing me. It's like I'm hearing her die all over again. How can I look my wife in the eye and say those words, Paul? How can I tell her that?"

"Just don't wait too long," Paul warned.

"I'll write her a note, okay? I can do that much. Now, are you ready for that address?"

"Hit me."

-=-=-

Gina watched as Neil passed through the door and into the kitchen. He gave her an apologetic look, and she realized that she was glaring. She made a point of softening her features. Keep your body language accepting and open. That was what the counselor had told her.

"I'm really sorry for doing that to you," he said. "I just needed some time to sort through my feelings."

Gina felt her expression soften further. "Are you going to talk to me about it, now?"

He studied her for a long moment, and then sighed. "In some ways, talking to you about it is all that I want to do."

"In some ways?"

He swallowed, and his jaw clenched. "I can't. Not yet, anyway. I'm sorry." Gina felt anger course through her again, and it must have shown because Neil put his hands up. "That's not exactly right. I can tell you some of it, and I'm going to...to try....but there's...." he shook his head and gestured towards the table. "Let's sit down, and I'll try."

Gina forced herself not to fold her arms across her chest as she sat. It was a natural position for her, a comfortable and casual pose, but the psychiatrist had pointed out that it was not a physically welcoming one. If Neil was going to try to communicate something difficult, it would be easier for him if her body language was one of acceptance.

He scratched his nose as he mulled over his words. "You know...you know that there have been some recalls on a model that I recently updated. The Technica." He was looking at the table, but he looked up to confirm her assent. "Well, this is sort of about that. It's not...uh, I'm not...in trouble. I'm not getting fired. It's nothing like that. But it's been stressful, and then today..." he winced, and Gina gave into the urge to reach out and put her hand over his. He smiled at her, and then his features sank, morphing into horrific sadness. "I've let you down so much," he said sadly, and his eyes misted over.

Gina held her breath. Let her down? Paul Keegan's words ran through her head.

"All I can say is---- not his fault. Don't let him tell you otherwise. It's all that bitch's do---- n't know how, but s---- right. And now she's trying to seduce me---- "

She forced herself to start breathing again, but the effect was jagged and shallow.

"There was a closed door meeting today regarding a gravely serious issue, Neil was...involved...and after it concluded he immediately vacated the building. Mr. Fenner was highly emotional, but he did not require an escort."

"Just yesterday, we had to let one of the assistants go. She was sleeping with a married man. A development engineer."

"Neil," she said slowly, her voice hushed, "I need you to tell me what's going on, right now."

He leaned back, eyes growing wide, and she realized too late that her stare and tone were both impatient and accusatory. Goddamn it, Neil. Don't clam up now. Tell me what you've done.

"I can't," he said, almost as if he'd heard her thoughts. His face was now one of guilty terror.

Frustrated to the point of agitation, she snapped at him. "Goddamn it, Neil Fenner, you are going to tell me what the hell is going on, whether you want to or not."

"I'm trying so hard," he whispered, and she knew that he meant it, but her patience had run out. Somehow, the eternal well of calm that had helped her to weather his previous emotional retreat was unreachable.

"So what does that mean?" she asked. "Am I just going to go through another six months of waiting so you can be comfortable talking? Is that it? Gina has to get left in the dark, because Neil isn't 'ready' yet?" She stood up, knocking her chair over. "That's not fair to me, Neil. I don't deserve that, and you don't have the right to treat me that way. You have to talk to me!" Her voice was rising, and she wasn't entirely sure where the overwhelming anger that swelled up came from until she leaned forward and yelled, "It's not fair, goddamn it! She was my daughter too!"

They both stared at one another in horrified silence. For a moment nobody said a word. Then, a rush of tears half blinding her, she fled from the room.

-=-=-

Gina never came back downstairs that night. Neil, after a time, decided to follow through on his promise to Paul. It was the only course he thought might be successful. He took a pen, and paper, and wrote.

In their sessions directly following the accident, they had learned that Neil had less trouble communicating his feelings on paper than he did face-to-face. It was still a very slow process, but it allowed him to labor over his words ahead of time and then share them once he was happy with the message. The only problem was that, at least at first, he insisted on leaving the room while Gina and the doctor read his letters. He couldn't read them aloud, that was too much. And the long drawn-out silence as they made their way through the pages and pages of his soul was almost as bad.

As time had gone by, he'd gotten to the point where remaining in the room was tolerable, and then to where he could read his script to the two of them. Finally, the day had come when the paper was no longer needed. He could speak directly about his sorrow, and do it fluidly and calmly.

Tonight, he needed the paper again.

He wrote his letter, doing his best to explain everything. The problems with the recalls, the accident involving the little girl and her family, the feelings of guilt, and what he planned to do next. He apologized for the difficult time he was giving her, and for running off the way he was. He really believed that, the sooner he took this trip, the sooner he'd be able to regain some control of his emotional state. He wanted to make this right, and he wanted to be able to rediscover the peace he'd once attained regarding the death of their child. If by some strange chance this didn't work, he promised, he would go back and see the counselor again. But it would work. He believed that.

He wrote that he loved her, and then he set the letter on the table where she'd see it and went to pack his bags.

-=-=-

Cecile glanced down at the lonely, neatly-written note that rested on the table. He was waiting for Neil to run upstairs and grab the few things that he'd forgotten to pack. He'd been examining the domesticity of the kitchen, trying to match it to the expressionless engineer he knew and experiencing something close to curiosity, when his eyes fell on the parchment. He scanned the first few lines, blinked, and then flipped the page over to read the last paragraph. He quickly returned the letter to its place as a creaking board announced Neil's return to the kitchen.

"Thanks again for giving me a lift," the older man said.

"Yeah. Sure. I've been...well, we've all been...worried."

Neil smiled at him. "I was too, but I think I've seen the way forward." He glanced down at the suitcase in his hands. "I guess I've got it all," he said.

Cecile shrugged. "Listen, like I said, I'm more than happy to help, but why not just drive yourself to the airport?"

"Gina's car is in the shop. Something's wrong with the computer system. And, no, before you say anything, it's not one of ours."

"Sacrilege."

"I know."

"So why did you call me? Why not Paul or David?"

"It's late, it's a work night, and you're young."

Cecile faked a smile he didn't feel. "That's all?"

Neil raised his eyebrows at him and tilted his head. "Cecile," he said, "I called you because I consider you a friend, and I was counting on the idea that you felt the same way. Now let's get moving, or we'll be late."

As the two men turned out the lights and made their way into the garage, Cecile had a quick impulse. It flickered across his thoughts like a butane flame in a soft breeze, and he reacted. "Hey," he said, "can I go in and grab a soda out of the fridge?"

"Of course. But I'm warning you, Sprite's all we have."

"Ugh. I'll live with it."

Quietly moving back into the darkened room, he grabbed the letter and quietly slipped it into his pants pocket. Then he grabbed a Sprite and went back out.

His heart started pounding as they climbed into the car. He didn't know why he'd done that...although he was sure that Tracy would be pleased. Anything remotely resembling a wrench thrown into Neil Fenner's internal works would tickle her. He really felt no ill will toward Neil, though. He even respected the guy. So what was he doing?

Worse, he hadn't considered the repercussions. What would happen when Neil found out that his letter had conveniently disappeared while his young 'friend' was in his home? Even if the man did leave his job, or get fired, he could still turn the others against Cecile. How do you run a team that hates your guts?

Relax, he told himself. He probably won't even consider you a suspect. He'll probably think he misplaced it.

Maybe. But why was he risking so much?

Cecile looked over at the man in the passenger seat. Neil seemed so...old. He must be in his late thirties, at least. And where was he? Making eighty thousand dollars a year in a job barely a step and a half above recent graduates? Cecile imagined himself losing fifteen years of his life making that small, single step, and knew that he couldn't do it.

Life was too precious to waste that way.

Taking the note had been foolish, though. It was a mistake. It didn't help his chances at getting the job, and it created the risk of exposure, so it didn't serve any purpose. He would stop by, ostensibly to check on Neil's wife, tomorrow. While he was there, he would try to arrange an opportunity to "find" the note. Simple as that. It fell into the crack between the refrigerator and the cabinets. Maybe one of them brushed by it on their way out the door. All believable stories. Gina Fenner would get her letter, and nobody would be any the wiser. Neil would take his trip, find a new job, and Cecile would get promoted. From there, he could start looking at ways to reach higher positions. Maybe even Tracy's.

The world moves with impossible speed, but Cecile Schaefer intended to outpace it.

-=-=-

Thursday

Gina stood at the top of the stairway, wearing only her panties, listening intently. Nothing. Just the hum of the fridge.

She'd been surprised to find that Neil had never come to bed last night, but that surprise hadn't become nervous fear until she discovered that the guest bed was equally untouched. Now, from her vantage point, she could see that the couch was also unused. Coming down the stairs, she glanced into the kitchen and found nothing there. Her focus fell on the table, the location of their confrontation. The place where she'd exploded at him. Its empty surface bothered her for some reason, like something was missing.

Something besides Neil, that is. Where was that man?

"Honey?" she called, and received no answer. It wasn't yet seven, so even if he intended to go back into work today he shouldn't have left.

Going back into the bedroom, Gina grabbed a robe from her side of the closet. As she pulled it over her nudity, she noticed that Neil's side was partially open as well. Glancing in, she put her hand over her mouth and gasped. A half dozen of his clean shirts were missing, as were at least three pair of pants. Underneath that, his business trip suitcase was missing.

Rushing to the dresser, she pulled out his sock and underwear drawer. Mostly empty. In the bathroom, his razor and toothbrush were gone.

Gina blinked tears away. What was going on? Neil had left? Why would he do that?

"Just yesterday, we had to let one of the assistants go. She was sleeping with a married man. An engineer."

It was impossible. That just wasn't Neil. He wouldn't do that to anyone, she reminded herself again. Let alone to her. Would he?

The doorbell rang. She ignored it, running her hand through her hair and trying to calm herself down. There had to be some rational reason for what was happening. Some perfectly rational explanation for everything. Neil would not-

The chimes rang out again. Tip-toeing over to the window, Gina peaked out and saw a handsome young man standing at the front stoop looking nervous. Something about the dress slacks and button-up...not their existence but the awkwardly self-conscious way they were worn...brought to mind that one of Neil's coworkers was a kid not much out of college. His name was...oh, shoot. What was it? Started with an 's,' if she remembered right. Neil thought the kid was nice enough, and that he had a lot of potential.

Pulling her robe tight, she opened the door just a few inches and said, "Hello?"

The young man squinted at her through the available space. "Hi. Uh, Mrs. Fenner?"