Dicky glanced over it while he was listening to the phone, nodded, said "All right," and then hung up. He looked up at Step and smiled. "That was Ray. Your resignation is accepted."
"Very quick," said Step.
"But that two weeks notice shit is out of the question," said Dicky. "Two weeks in which a disgruntled employee can cause damage? Insert bugs in our programs? Report to your new bosses on the secrets of Eight Bits Inc.?"
"What, you mean you guys are secretly developing nuclear weapons for the PLO or something? And I don't have a new boss. I'm going back to freelancing. I have a contract for Hacker Snack, I told you that."
"Sure, of course," said Dicky. "And you're just going to sit back and wait a year for your noncompetition clause and your nondisclosure clause to run out, right? Just remember, asshole, we're going to watch you and if we see one hint of a violation of that agreement we'll have lawyers up your ass so far you'll taste them whenever you burp."
"Ooh, nasty," said Step.
"Right, be flippant about it if you want, but we are going to march to your office together right now and you are going to put your personal belongings into that box while I watch. Nothing that is the property of Eight Bits Inc. will go out of this building with you, and when you leave here you will never come back, do you understand?"
"So you're saying that you reject my offer of two weeks notice, even though you've got nobody else up to speed on my projects?"
Dicky laughed derisively. "Step, the janitors could be up to speed on your work in half an hour. You are the most worthless, useless, completely replaceable person in this company"
"Gee," said Step, "it kind of makes you wonder why you'd bother replacing me."
"Let's get a box, Step. The sooner you're gone, the better this company will be."
The words stung, even coming from Dicky. And although Step's immediate departure was exactly what he had really wanted but hadn't felt right about asking for, it was still deeply offensive that Ray and Dicky understood him so little that they thought he would actually steal from them. But then, being dishonest and conniving themselves, of course they assumed that he would behave exactly as they would behave if the situation were reversed.
It took Step five minutes to withdraw his few personal papers from the desk. Dicky stopped him from taking copies of any Eight Bits Inc. memos, on the grounds that they were internal secrets, but that was fine with Step. He already had the only memos he needed safely at home.
The only problem they had was when Step tried to take a couple of disks with him. "No way," said Dicky.
"Any code on any disk in this office belongs to Eight Bits Inc."
"This is just personal stuff," said Step. "Utilities I use. They don't belong to Eight Bits Inc. Look, let me put them in a machine and do a directory and you'll see."
"You could rename files to any other name, Step. Hand me the diskettes."
It wasn't worth it-the utilities he used most were already at home anyway. So he handed the disks to Dicky.
Dicky reached for the stapler on Step's desk and drove a dozen staples through the disks, bang, bang, bang, bang. He handed the mutilated disks to Step. Step held them up and dropped them on the floor. "When you bring a janitor in here to do my job, he can clean those up," he said. Then Step took the box of his personal papers and dumped it out into the garbage can. There was nothing he needed from Eight Bits Inc., because he had never brought anything here that really mattered. He hadn't invested any part of himself in these people, and so there was nothing that would bother him to leave behind. Except, of course, his attache case, because that was a gift from DeAnne and because it was mostly filled with his lesson materials for his church calling, that and his home teaching information and a couple of magazines to read during lunch.
"Open the attache," said Dicky.
"Not without a warrant," said Step.
Then he walked to the door, dug into his pocket, pulled out his keyring, pried off the key to the back door of Eight Bits Inc., and threw it toward the garbage can. To his surprise, it went right in. "You're so stupid, Dicky, that you didn't even ask me for my key."
Step closed the door firmly in Dicky's face and headed down the corridor to the pit. He opened the door, waved, and said, "I gave the bastards two weeks notice and they're throwing me out. It's been real, gents. Have a life!" Their cheers and applause rang in his ears as he went out the back door, got in his car, and drove home.
11: Zap
This is what happened when the baby was born: On Thursday, the twenty-eighth of July, DeAnne went to her doctor's office to find out why the baby hadn't shown any intention yet of entering the world. It was the due date, and DeAnne had no desire for a bonus week of pregnancy like the one she had with Robbie. When Dr.
Keese examined her, he looked surprised. "You haven't had any labor pains?"
"I don't ever get hard labor pains until I'm about to deliver," said DeAnne.
"Well, get ready for them, then," he said. "You're at six centimeters."
"Oh," said DeAnne. "I guess that means I don't have time to plow the back forty before the baby comes."
"I think it means that if I were you, I'd go out and get in my car and drive to the hospital. I'll have Rochelle call your husband."
"This is really inconvenient," said DeAnne. "My mother is flying in from Utah tonight at nine-thirty. Do you think the baby will be here by then so Step can go pick her up?"
"Are you aware that you are speaking absolute nonsense?" asked Dr. Keese. "Things like that are no longer your concern for the next few days, and certainly not for the next few hours."
She stopped at the reception desk and borrowed the phone.
"Hi," said Step. "What's the news?"
"I'm at six centimeters and the doctor says I don't really have time to go home."
"OK," said Step. "Any pains yet?"
"None," she answered. "But I'm sure they'll make up for it later. Remember that Mother's arriving at nine-thirty"
"I've already arranged with Sam Freebody to pick her up if we happen to be at the hospital by then," said Step.
"Oh," said DeAnne. "How will he know her?"
"He'll look for the woman with short, tightly curled salt-and-pepper hair who seems lost and abandoned and who answers to the name 'Vette."'
"You make her sound like a lost dog."
"And I'm going to call her before she gets on the plane and tell her to look for a man tall enough to change lightbulbs without a stepladder and wide enough that he couldn't get two rattlesnakes to reach all the way around him. I think they'll find each other."
"I know you're perfectly able to handle things, Step. But I have to ask about these things or I'll worry."
"I know," said Step. "Did I complain? I'm trying to reassure you so you don't worry."
"Well, you're doing a splendid job. Call Sister Bigelow or Mary Anne Lowe to stay with the children."
"Whichever one says yes, I'll get the other one to finish mowing the lawn for me."
"Very funny. As soon as whoever it is gets there, then I need you to bring me my bag, the one I packed with everything I'll need in the hospital."
"Yes," said Step. "I'm already standing in our bedroom and I have just opened that bag."
"Don't open it, Step, or something will fall out."
"I'm now putting into the bag your copy of Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant, which you told me you intended to read in the hospital but which you had neglected to put in the bag."
"I hate you when you're so superior-sounding."
"Now I'm going to sound bossy," said Step.
"Go ahead, I can take anything-I'm a woman."
"Get off the phone, leave everything to me, drive to the hospital, and I'll be there within thirty minutes."