My Only Talent Ch. 29

I worked through the linguistics textbook again, and skimmed about a quarter of the journal articles. A text beeped in from Saskia, beginning by thanking me for the invitation to the brown bag lunch, and then offering me one and only one time slot for my weekly one on one training meeting with her. She did not acknowledge or respond in any way to my previous ribald suggestion of Thursday nights at her place, but rather specified Thursday afternoons after my other classes, beginning next Thursday. I accepted, set my alarm, and was promptly out like a switched off light. When the evening texts from Lara and Suzanne arrived, I slept right through them and all the nookie potential. Dummy.

*******

Lara finally finished her review session at Burdine Hall even later than she thought, and then trudged southward alone across campus to make her way back to her apartment building on Lavaca. She had to pinkie promise to attend each and every make up session before the prof would even consider letting her add the section, which was already officially full and closed, but she had to have it this semester to make her plan work. She pulled out her phone and saw a message from Suzanne saying her under the lights soccer game was running very late, and she did not expect to be able to make it to Lara's apartment tonight in time for some fun with Robbie. They would both be tied up Saturday night, while Robbie took Candy, their new prospective trainee, to the UDP sock hop, and Robbie and Suzanne were going to their Sunday dinner with Strelsa and Günter for their 'swap fest', as Lara called it when she teased Suzanne about it.

Lara was still on a natural high from having Robbie all to herself all night after the reception at the Lillehammer's. He had fucked her brains out, and she liked it. Before Robbie, that phrase was just a concept for her, but now she knew exactly what it meant, and she wanted it again. They were having a slumber party at her place next weekend, either Candy's first training weekend, or with just the three of them. She focused on her long term plans, and why she had changed her degree plan and class schedule. Stick to the plan girl, and make it work. She made a grilled cheese sandwich for herself, and curled up with her new syllabi. They were as effective as a lullaby, and she fell asleep thinking about Robbie.

*******

Dwight was making progress in his California corporate counter intelligence assignment, despite the meddling of his worry wart supervisor, Roger Sherman. The C-level executive team at his new company had been assembled hastily, with many of the hires being made by the VC firm that had led the investment round rather than the new, first time scientist/CEO. That usually meant they each had great resumes on paper, but may or may not have the team chemistry that would be required to succeed. At least he had names for them all now, and could begin his in depth research. In Dwight's job as a coder, he would normally not meet most of them, but he had to make a special effort to meet them face to face in addition to learning everything he could online. His first roadblock was the new 'digital strategist' who had taken over all their social media accounts to make sure they projected the proper image to the investment community.

The company was mostly marketing itself for further investment right now, and not to potential customers, but Dwight knew that would have to change, and soon. The CEO was a mathematical physicist in his late forties who apparently had great familiarly with the algorithms that made the company software tick, but knew almost nothing about the people who would actually use the product, nor commerce in general. The biggest team the new CEO had ever managed before was two other post docs on a piddling NSF grant. Dwight saw some real trouble ahead, even absent any problematic foreign intelligence penetrations.

He was spending Friday evening at work setting up his new office properly, which thankfully let him dodge dinner with nosy Roger and also gave him the opportunity to snoop some of the networks and facilities he would need to burrow into. It also let him know who else worked late and why. The uniformed janitor that came in to empty the wastebaskets paid no attention to Dwight and spoke rapid Manila style Tagalog into his telephone while he worked, and Dwight could follow well enough to glean he was arguing with his wife about whose turn it was to go grocery shopping after work tonight, not distributing secret company information. The new marketing director, who reported to the high flying VP CMO and probably did all the real work, was still in her office down the hall with the door closed. It only took Dwight a few moments inside the company network to surreptitiously activate the webcam in her tablet, and learn she was revising and rehearsing a marketing strategy pitch for the next BOD meeting. Dwight copied the pitch and all her Skype contacts while he was at it. According to her speaker notes, the main points of the presentation had been dictated to her over the phone by the CEO, who fancied himself a marketing genius, but it was just awful. Dwight felt sorry for her. She had to make it good, and factual, and still make the CEO think it was all his idea.

Dwight had carefully crafted his at work personae: very bright, nerdy but approachable, and sexually metamorphic. He wanted people to puzzle over his orientation, and wonder whether he was coming on to them or just being naively open and friendly. The marketing director was going to be his first test of how effective it was. He quickly reviewed in his mind his dossier on her and then banged on the door. She opened it immediately, appearing simultaneously surprised and irritated.

"Hello, Miranda." He slipped past her through the door. "Nice office. I'm Dwight Dewitt, but everyone calls me DD. Seems we are both burning the Friday night oil. I'm going to order some Thai for dinner. Can I recruit you as my partner in crime?"

She relaxed a little. "Miranda Lassiter. People usually call me ML." When she opened the door she had planned to dismiss him as soon as she could, but she was struck by the coincidence of their common liking of Thai food, and she was hungry.

It was no coincidence. Dwight had analyzed all her expense account credit card receipts for the last two jobs she had, and she had some clear preferences. He started his sell job, talking a mile a minute. "I just moved here from Austin, so I am learning the takeout lay of the land. The place that looks best on Yelp closes after lunch, but I found one place I want to try that has Po Tak soup and pumpkin curry shrimp. Okay?"

She smiled. Perfect choice.

*******

Saturday morning found me unusually horny after my celibate Friday night. Filled with new resolution, I jumped out of bed and almost fell down again. Saskia's weight lifting session had generated a lot more soreness than the aerobic sessions ever had. My chest and shoulders were silently screaming and probably had a temperature several degrees higher than the rest of my body. My whole upper body felt funny and a little off balance. Not a good start for the dance tonight.

Going down to eat breakfast loosened me up enough to encourage me to get my sprinting done. I changed into my running togs and hit the track. I must have slept thought some really noisy parties due to my early bedtime last night - there was almost no one else around. My upper body still felt heavy and out of balance with respect to my legs - it was weird. I made an extra effort on my final two sprints and got a real burn, and almost a runner's high, but still very different from long distance running. I took a shower and put on my best 50's style Levi's 501 jeans with a white cotton tee shirt and some retro all black Converse All Stars, the uniform of the day for a sock hop, and headed over to the UDP port to hang out and catch an early lunch.

Oiler was in the great room along with Cisco and some of the other guys. One of the most amazing things about joining UDP was getting to know a few of the guys better, and some of the very surprising things I learned about and from them. Oiler, in addition to his mathematical ability and gear head engineering bent, was a budding spiritualist, taking Gretchen on dates to séances and paranormal investigations. I thought he would be a skeptic - actively denouncing such things, but he was 'reserving judgment' and 'gathering data'. Gretchen was actually more skeptical than he was, but said the new events were more fun than the monster truck rallies and car stereo dB contests they would otherwise be going to.

Cisco and Mei Ling were a real hoot as a couple. Mei Ling did a killer imitation of the "Me So Horny!" Vietnamese hooker in that Full Metal Jacket movie, complete with black leather skirt and red halter top, although thankfully she dispensed with the dangling cigarette. After she wore the outfit to a 70's themed party at UDP, it became her code phrase for telling Cisco 'let's get out of here'. When she had a few drinks, she would also whisper things like "Hey GI Suckee Fuckee Two Dorrah" to him. He said they knew it was horribly politically incorrect, but it got them both hot as hell. I suppose Mei Ling could just beat up anybody who objected. Suzanne said she was at first worried that having a steady guy might take the edge off of Mei Ling's martial arts mastery, but the opposite was true. She was now totally relaxed, confident and grounded and so she reacted purely on her training and instinct, not emotionally. She was much more effective than ever before.

The biggest surprise of all was my old junior high buddy Ralph. He was kind of the quintessential nerd in junior high, and he had changed a lot since my then memories of him. His ego was now ascendant, but I suppose having two girls as hot as Big Liz and Little Marilyn in your bed at the same time several nights a week would make any guy a lot more confident. His immersion in the ESU physics department just confirmed his sense of belonging and self-worth, totally making up for not getting the full ride at Cal Tech, and gave him ample objective evidence that he was a player, intellectually speaking. He also had some interesting hobbies. He had moved from the dorm to the UDP house for this semester, filling his small room with his humongous collection of vinyl LP records, a turntable, and an 'Antelope' amplifier with some wild giant black headphones. He said the room was way too small for any proper speakers. I had heard of some of the artists, but none of the songs. He put the headphones on my head and cranked up something called 'Farewell Aldebaran' - I suddenly thought I understood what LSD was all about - but with fewer side effects, I hoped.

Ralph was a freshman, and like all freshman fraternity boys, he participated in a lot of sophomoric discussions. The UDP house variety was a little different than most, though. The average IQ was at least two standard deviations above the mean (for college students, not just the entire population as a whole), and people like Ralph and Oiler actually understand some of the things most people just talked through their ass about, like cosmology and quantum physics. I usually just listened and tried to keep up. This morning, I sat down in the great room just as another wide ranging discussion was starting.

"The next generation of solid state storage will put 32 terabytes of data on a little USB stick, not just 32 gigabytes." Oiler opined.

"Pretty good density" said Cisco. "I hear DNA based storage is the next breakthrough beyond that."

"The human brain beats them all, especially mine." Ralph chimed in, accompanied by a chorus of groans. "That 90% of the brain that most people never use is probably a giant FPGA and memory store, plus maybe a QID."

Oiler looked thoughtful. "Quantum Interference Device, eh? I thought that required liquid nitrogen chillers and exotic materials."

Ralph was just getting warmed up. "At the current crude level of technology, maybe. But we know that enzymes can easily carry out reactions at body temperature that need much higher or lower temperatures otherwise. And some theorists believe that the brain might be capable of functioning as a quantum computer, carrying out things like spooky action at distance, and perhaps directly manipulating the quantum state of individual atoms, which might provide a scientific explanation for telepathy, telekinesis, and clairvoyance."

Oiler sat up. "Edgar Cayce was a QID?"

I couldn't resist chiming in. "I have been invited to a seminar on Quantum Neuro-Electrodynamics."

Ralph and Oiler both dropped their jaws in shock. They were lucky there were no flies buzzing around. Ralph, as usual, spoke first. "Right Robbie, sure you are. Just who is speaking at this event?"

"Dr. Augie, and a few other folks."

"You're kidding! That guy is the new Roger Penrose. I don't think anybody in the physics department even knows he is coming. How in the hell did you get invited?"

I yawned. "It's at the med school. One on my football buddies over there sent me an invite. I even get to bring a date!" I casually displayed the e-vite my phone. "I am taking a really fantastic PhD physiologist post doc that I know. Maybe a seminar like that will get her all hot?"

Oiler laughed. "It takes all kinds to make a world, doesn't it, Ralph?"

"Will wonders never cease? Let us know if you understand a word that is said Robbie!" They both guffawed.

Laugh all you want, guys. I might not understand the physics, but maybe I understand how to do the deed. Maybe that was how my Suzie Signal receiver worked, and why Asa Weltschmerz invited me. I would have to remember to keep my ears open and my mouth shut.

The announcement of the noon meal broke up the discussion. Lunch was a make your own sandwich buffet out by the pool designated as a 'mixer' with a sorority. Attendance was excellent on both sides. Ah, the rites of spring. I got in the spirit of things and had my lunch poolside without my tee shirt, and besides evoking a few Suzie signals from some of the new sorority hotties, I noticed that even the girls that didn't send any Suzie were still checking me out a little more than usual. What's up with that?

After lunch the spring pledge group was pressed into service setting up the decorations for the 'sock hop', and that gave us the opportunity to discuss our planned prank. Somehow I was designated as prank leader, and I realized that I would have to design a two level prank plan - one for public consumption and one for the sexually charged surprises I had promised myself to give the little prick, er, ah, I mean, our honored professor and his wife. Based on their history, I would only get one shot (so to speak) at the lovely and exhibitionistic Veronica Tappert, and I needed to make it unforgettable for us all. If I could somehow maximize her excitement and his humiliation it would be doubly perfect. I listened to several conversations while we worked on the decorations, and an idea struck me.

The SXSW conference was coming up, with lots of people coming to town and lots of events filling the hotels, clubs, and restaurants. One of the popular charity fund raising schemes was a series of public (and usually videotaped) 'arrest warrants' where the local sheriff and constables would publicly arrest local politicians, executives and visiting celebrities and philanthropists and release them only after they had donated to the proper charitable cause. This could be phase one and our public cover story, but I needed to get really creative for phase two.

By this time the decorations for the sock hop were ready with plenty of time to spare, and the DJ was setting up and testing his sound gear. More importantly, dinner was served. I ended up sitting with three of the sorority mixer girls, two freshman and a sophomore, and two UDP seniors. The food was very good, the girls were pretty but sent no Suzie for me, and the conversation was mildly interesting. I started listening distractedly while I thought about Candy's training plan, but I soon got more involved.

One of the freshman girls from my table asked me to dance, and we threw off our shoes and sock hopped to Chubby Checker doing the Twist. Although the girl sent no Suzie for me, she was attractive and a very good dancer, and I was a little miffed when someone else cut in. I moved over closer to the refreshments tables, where there was beer, UDP punch, and fruit juice and Diet Coke for the non-drinkers. UDP punch did not have the reputation that preceded ZZZ Instant Stripper, but it was an effective inhibition reducer. I positioned myself so I could watch both outside doors for Candy's entrance.

My attention was soon drawn to a young lady that was definitely not Candy. She was standing between the refreshments table and the dance floor, watching the dancers and moving her feet a bit, holding one of those little cans of pineapple juice. She was not classically beautiful, to say the least. She was short, with plain brown hair cut short. Very short. My sister once had her hair dyed in a strange trendy new salon, and owing to some sort of adverse chemical reaction, it turned several different weird colors and twisted itself up in strange and unattractive ways. She went back to her trusted old colorist, and the diagnosis was death. They had to cut it all off at the roots and start over. Her hair was very short for the next few months, and she did find it convenient, because she could just shower and towel off and be done with her hair. Perhaps this was the motivation behind this girls cut. I assumed that it if it was some sort of radical lesbian statement, she would not be tapping her toes at our mixer.

Then she turned and glanced in my direction, and my heart skipped a beat. Plain brown, almost yellow eyes, but with sparkling starbursts and laser highlights. Swirling twirling complex light patterns sent a message to those lucky enough to be able to read it: there was a lot going on between her ears. She glanced at me and a pulsing Suzie signal bloomed out and dominated my senses. It was hot, almost coherent, and all for me. My pledge training routines kicked in and I approached her in my UDP Ambassador mode, extending my hand.

"Hi, I'm Robbie Roberts. Thanks for coming to our mixer!"

She stared at me wide eyed, then recovered, affecting a wide smile and a vigorous handshake, looking me right in the eyes and moving a step closer. "Jerri Hart, from Hallsville, Texas. Pleased to meet you."

It was every bit as much a rehearsed stance and canned comeback as my introduction had been. I smiled, but not too lecherously, I hoped. "Let me guess. You were a cheerleader, or a 4H hostess?"

She smiled shyly. I was enchanted. "Girl's State Delegate. I got to be the faux lieutenant Governor for a week, and had to introduce myself to everyone over and over. That little routine became a stereotyped reflex, I am afraid."

Hallsville was in East Texas, just west of Shreveport, Louisiana along the IH20 corridor between Dallas and Atlanta. "Well, as stereotypical intros go, it was quite charming." She smiled again. I found I very much liked making her smile. I looked her over from close up. She was thin. Very thin. Just a step up the nutritional ladder from photos of labor camp survivors. She was about a 1.7 on the Purina chart my grandmother had taught me to use in evaluating dogs. Her muscle mass was just meeting minimums, but there was no discernable fat anywhere. Was she an anorexic?

"How long have you been in Austin" I asked.

She ducked her head and gulped. "Well, I started school two years ago, but I missed a year and half due to..." She paused, as if deciding how to finish the sentence, "Health issues. So now I am back trying to catch up."