Unplugged by Lois Greiman

Author:Lois Greiman [Greiman, Lois]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780440335856
Publisher: Dell
Published: 2006-02-28T08:00:00+00:00

14

I’d rather be pissed off than pissed on.

—Chrissy’s version

of Father Pat’s truth maxim

O NCE I QUIT slavering and my blood pressure simmered back down to the triple digits, I put Rivera firmly out of my mind and called Directory Assistance.

It was simple enough to get a phone number for Electronic Universe. Having no better options, I dialed the number immediately.

The man on the other end had a slight Asian accent. The kind that immediately makes me feel stupid.

“Yes, hello,” I said, using my nose voice in self-defense. “I’d like to speak to J. D. Solberg.”

There was a pause. “I am sorry. Is he an employee here at E.U.?”

“No. He just comes in from time to time to try out your fabulous equipment.”

“Can you describe him?”

I did. “It’s an emergency. Please put him on the line.”

“I am sorry,” he said. “But your Mr. Solberg does not seem to be here at this time.”

My heart rate sped up. “But he has been in the past?”

“I can’t say for certain.”

“Was he there today?”

“I do not know.”

“Yesterday? Was he there yesterday? You’d know him if you saw him. He has a nose like a—”

He hung up. I promptly drove to Santa Ana, where E.U. is located just off Mesa Freeway. It’s an imposing building the approximate size of Montana. Once inside its black glass doors, I searched every face and listened to every voice. Solberg was nowhere to be found. But there was enough electronic gadgetry to send a man to the moon. Which meant, I believed, there was also enough gadgetry to entice Solberg from his hiding place. If he was hiding. And if he was hiding, he must have some kind of plan to extract himself from his current troubles. He might be a cross-eyed little drip, but he wasn’t stupid.

Still, even smart cross-eyed little drips need accomplices to save their drippy hides.

I glanced around the store. The staff was dressed all in black. They weren’t your usual techno-geek employees. For one thing, they were all over the age of seventeen. They were sharp, predominantly male, and somber.

But I have yet to meet a man who can remain coherent in the smiling face of cleavage, so I popped open the top button of my sweater, gave my arms a squeeze, and approached the nearest employee.

“Hello.”

I gave him a smile. “This is amazing.” I looked around the store, wide-eyed. “I’ve heard nothing but good about E.U.”

“Thank you.” He gave me a little bow and dipped his gaze momentarily toward my chest. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m not sure. I was just wondering . . . if I brought in a disk that has . . . well . . . some pretty high-tech schematics, would I be able to open it on your computers?”

He gave me a sagacious glance. Or maybe he was looking down my sweater again. “Well, that depends. How familiar are you with E.U. technology?”

“Not very, I’m afraid.”

“Then you might be a little lost. We’re pretty innovative.”

“But your equipment would be able to handle it?”

He looked affronted on behalf of his machines, E.

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