Trust Me

  “Hell, take them both on vacation if you like. I don't really give a damn.”

  “There's no need to be sarcastic,” Alison said stiffly.

  “I'm not trying to be sarcastic, I'm trying to get off the phone so that I can get some work done.”

  “I'll call the boys this evening and say good-bye.”

  Stark took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Do you want some advice?”

  “What advice?” she asked warily.

  “Don't tell Jason and Kyle that you're going off on vacation with their therapist.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my relationship with Dr. Titus,” Alison snapped.

  “I didn't say there was. I just suggested that you don't make a big deal out of it with Jason and Kyle. It's hard enough for them to figure out who's sleeping with whom at the moment.”

  “They have to face reality,” Alison said. “Damn it, I'm a mature adult. I refuse to pretend that I don't have adult needs. Jason and Kyle must understand that just because their father walked out, that doesn't mean that I don't have a right to a loving, caring relationship.”

  Stark wished he had kept his mouth shut. “Sure. Sorry I mentioned it.”

  “Their father is screwing his brains out with that bimbo assistant of his, you know.”

  “I know. Alison, all I'm suggesting is a little discretion.”

  “Discretion? You think that bastard, Hudson, is showing discretion? He and that blonde have gone off to Hawaii, for God's sake. I'm the one who got left with two children to raise. I'm the one who has to worry about keeping a roof over our heads. I'm the one who has to provide new shoes and put food on the table and pay for college.”

  “No.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Whatever happens, you won't have to worry about keeping Jason and Kyle housed and fed, and you won't have to worry about their education,” Stark said quietly.

  “I've got news for you, Stark, Hudson convinced the judge that he only needs to pay minimum child support because I have a career. But I can assure you that I don't make nearly enough in my interior design business to maintain the standard of living that the boys and I had before the divorce. Hudson's support payments, assuming he even bothers to make them, won't make up the difference.”

  “I'll see that you and Jason and Kyle are taken care of.”

  There was a startled silence on the other end of the line. “Why would you do that?” Alison asked blankly.

  “Because—” Stark broke off, unsure of what he wanted to say. “Forget it. Just don't worry about the money. You'll be all right. I really have to go now, Alison.”

  “All right,” Alison said slowly. “Sam, I—”

  “Good-bye, Alison.”

  “Good-bye.”

  As soon as the line went dead, Stark dialed Sellinger's number at the Rosetta Institute. He was put through at once.

  “Stark, thanks for getting back to me.”

  Sellinger's plumy voice provoked memories. Stark experienced a brief pang of nostalgia for his days at the Institute. He had gone there immediately after graduating from college. It had been a somewhat cloistered existence, as Desdemona had guessed, but it had also been an important part of his life.

  Stark had always respected Sellinger as a man of many talents. The old man was savvy, both in the ways of politics and in terms of sheer intellectual ability. The combination made him an ideal director for the Institute. He had held the post for fifteen years.

  “Good to hear from you, sir,” Stark said.

  “I regret to say that this is a business matter, not a social one,” Sellinger said apologetically. “Wanted to let you know that Kilburn has resurfaced. Somewhere in Europe, we believe. You asked me to keep you posted on new developments.”

  Stark leaned back in his chair and thought about Leonard Kilburn.

  Kilburn had held the title of a department manager at the Rosetta Institute. He had worked on the management side, rather than the technical side.

  He had vanished from the Institute two and a half years earlier. Sellinger had notified Stark that an extremely sensitive encryption program had vanished with him. The program had been designed by Stark during his days at the Institute.

  As with most of the software that Stark had worked on while at the Rosetta Institute, the encryption software had been restricted by the U.S. Government for security reasons.

  Kilburn had illegally sold Stark's high-tech programs to a foreign government. He had very likely made a fortune on the deal, because there were fortunes to be made in the murky world of restricted technology sales. The field was not as lucrative as international arms dealing, but it was catching up fast. In fact, the two business frequently overlapped. Most high-tech weaponry was linked, one way or another, to computer programming, and military intelligence depended heavily on it.

  Fortunately, Stark had designed a hidden self-destruct feature into the encryption software Kilburn had stolen. It had triggered as soon as the foreign buyer had tried to install the program. No damage had been done, but everyone was aware that it had been a close call.

  Kilburn, however, had vanished.

  “Interesting,” Stark said. “How did you find Kilburn?”

  “Apparently he tried to broker a deal for some restricted software that was stolen from a weapons lab in Virginia. We got wind of it. Tried to track him through the computer link he used. Unfortunately, we scared him off before we could pin down his location. Have no idea what he's up to or what he'll do next, but I thought you ought to know he hasn't disappeared for good.”

  “I didn't think he would.”

  Sellinger chuckled, a rich, fruity sound. “I doubt he'll come anywhere close to Stark Security Systems. He's smart enough to realize that you took the theft of the encryption program two years ago rather personally.”

  “That was my design that he stole.”

  “Yes, I know. Luckily for us and our friends in Washington, you had it well protected. Well, I just wanted to bring you up to date.”

  “I appreciate the news.”

  “I realize you've wanted to get your hands on Kilburn ever since he made off with those programs,” Sellinger said. “So have I. If you pick up any traces of him, let me know.”

  “I will.”

  “Good luck. Oh, by the way, sorry I couldn't make it to your wedding.”

  “You didn't miss a thing,” Stark said.

  “You don't mean—”

  “Afraid so.”

  Sellinger sighed. “Sorry to hear that.”

  “When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.”

  “What the devil does that mean?”

  “Every cloud has a silver lining.” Stark smiled to himself. “I'm now dating the caterer.”

  “Good lord.”

  The knock on the office door interrupted Stark before he could tell Sellinger the whole story. Dane walked into the office and raised his eyebrows in silent inquiry when he saw that Stark was on the phone. Stark waved him to a chair.

  “Dane just came in,” Stark said to Sellinger.

  “Say hello to him for me,” Sellinger said. “You two seem to be doing rather well out there on your own. Congratulations. Good-bye, Stark.”

  Stark hung up the phone. “That was Sellinger. He sends his regards.”

  Dane looked mildly surprised. “What did he want?”

  “He was bringing me up to date on Kilburn. He says the bastard resurfaced again recently.”

  Dane whistled softly. “Any idea of where he is?”

  “No. They weren't able to pinpoint him. He's gone to ground again.”

  Dane grinned. “Relax. He's not your problem anymore. Someone at the Institute will track him down one of these days.”

  “Sure.” Stark shook off his annoyance. “Enough of old news. Tell me some good news.”

  “The Hammercomb job,” Dane tossed a sheaf of papers onto the desk. “We got it. That's Hammercomb's signature on
the contract. Stark Security Systems has just been hired to do a complete security analysis of their entire computer system and to recommend measures and strategies to protect it.”

  “Nice going.” Stark pulled the papers toward him. “Very nice going. This was a big one.”

  “And it will lead to other big ones.”

  “Yes.”

  “We're hot,” Dane said softly. “And once you finish working out the bugs in ARCANE, we are going to be even hotter.”

  Stark looked up from the contract. “I guess this means we won't have to beg for our old jobs back at the Institute.”

  “Are you kidding? The Institute will be coming to us one of these days. Wait and see.” Dane sprawled in his chair and regarded Stark with a considering look. “Speaking of clients, all set for the reception at your place at the end of the week?”

  “As far as I know. I'm leaving everything in Desdemona's hands.”

  Dane's mouth curved. “Everything?”

  “Everything.”

  “This is serious, isn't it?”

  “What? The reception? Of course it's serious. I hate these things, but it will be good for business.”

  “I'm not talking about the reception. I'm talking about you and your personal caterer. You're getting very close to her, aren't you?”

  “So?”

  “Watch out, pal. The last thing you need right now is another fiancée.”

  Stark scowled. “I'm not engaged to her. Hell, I'm not even thinking about marriage this time around.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I'm sure.” Stark felt a curious tension in his body. “This time I'm not looking any farther ahead than the next date.”

  “You're having an affair,” Dane repeated neutrally.

  “Right.” Stark recalled Alison's words. “A mature, adult relationship.”

  “The last time you tried to have one of those, you wound up standing alone at the altar. Don't you think it's a little too soon for you?”

  “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “The thing is, I know you, Stark. You're a man who follows patterns. But this time you're not following your usual pattern.”

  “What is my usual pattern?”

  “Generally speaking, you languish in celibacy for vast stretches of time between relationships.”

  “I've learned my lesson.” Stark leveled his pen in Dane's direction. “I'm going to keep this simple and uncomplicated.”

  “Come off it. This is your old friend, Dane, remember? Let's have a little honesty here. Three years ago you set yourself the goal of getting married. You know how you are when you're working on a project. You just keep going until it's finished.”

  “Not this time. I have officially abandoned the goal.”

  Dane studied his manicured nails. “Just as well, since she's not exactly your type.”

  The comment irritated Stark. “I'm well aware of that. But I don't have to worry about it. I'm going to go with the flow in this relationship.”

  Dane smiled. “You? Submit to the chaotic forces of romance and unbridled passion? I'll believe that when I see it.”

  “I'm not submitting to anything. I'm having a simple uncomplicated affair, and that's all there is to it.”

  “You always manage to complicate things,” Dane said. “Trust me, it's your nature.”

  Alone in his shadowed study that evening, Stark sat at his computer and mulled over the effect Alison's evening phone call had had on Jason and Kyle.

  On the surface things appeared to have gone fairly well. The boys had taken the news of their mother's vacation with Titus in stride, just as they had accepted their father's trip to Hawaii.

  “Sam?”

  Stark looked toward the door. Jason stood in the shadows. He was dressed in his pajamas.

  “I thought you were in bed,” Stark said.

  “I was. But I couldn't sleep.”

  “Probably the pizza. I warned you not to order the Garbage Truck Special.”

  “It was good.” Jason wandered farther into the room. “What are you doing?”

  “I'm working on a program designed to protect computer systems.”

  Jason peered at the screen. “The stuff on the screen looks all scrambled up.”

  “It is.” Stark punched a couple of buttons. The random characters that cluttered the screen began to reform themselves. “But underneath the surface there's a pattern. I can retrieve it with the right code.”

  “Yeah?” Jason watched intently as the meaningless array of characters became two neat paragraphs. “I can read it now.”

  “That's the whole point.”

  “This is cool. Where did you learn how to do this stuff?”

  Stark shrugged. “Most of it I taught myself.”

  “Can you teach it to me?”

  “If we have enough time.”

  “Mom said we could stay here the whole summer. Is that enough time?”

  “It's enough to get started.”

  A small sound in the doorway caught Stark's attention. He glanced around again and saw Kyle.

  “What are you two doing?” Kyle asked.

  “I was showing Jason how my new security program works,” Stark said.

  “The one you call ARCANE? I want to see, too.”

  “Okay.” Stark hit a key. The screenful of data went back to its scrambled state. “ARCANE has several features. One of them is encryption. I can encode the information that I want to protect inside a lot of constantly shifting garbage.”

  “Is that what you call chaos?”

  “Complexity. Now, then, the secret of complex structures is that they aren't truly chaotic. They just look that way at first glance. The variables that control them are very, very subtle. Once I discover them, however, I can use them to manipulate data.”

  “That stuff on the screen now looks just like the pizza we had for dinner,” Jason said.

  “Exactly. It conceals the data we want to protect behind a cloud of static.” Stark pressed a few more keys. “By altering some more variables, I can retrieve the information that was hidden behind the static.”

  “This is great.” Kyle looked at Stark. “Is this the kind of stuff you sell?”

  “Yes.”

  “If I was as good as you are on a computer, I'd invent games,” Kyle said. “Not business stuff.”

  Stark smiled. “Working with ARCANE is a lot like playing a very complex video game.”

  “Is it?” Jason asked.

  “Sure.” Stark hit a few more keys. “I told you, ARCANE has several features. In addition to encryption and decryption it can also act like an octopus.”

  “An octopus?” Jason looked intrigued.

  “It has tentacles that can reach into other computers and probe network systems.”

  “Sam?” Kyle kept his attention on the screen.

  “Yes?”

  “Mind if I ask you a question?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Mom says you were about our age when Dad left you and your mother.”

  Stark kept his eyes fixed on the computer. “She's right.”

  “He never came back, did he? I mean, to stay.”

  “No,” Stark said. “He never did come back to stay.”

  “He's not coming back to stay with me and Jason, either, is he?”

  “No,” Stark said. “He's not coming back. But things will be okay.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Trust me,” Stark said.

  11

  The card attached to the last birthday present read, “Happy Birthday to Desdemona from Stark.”

  Desdemona glanced up from the small, neatly wrapped package. A hush descended on the private dining room at the back of the restaurant. The colorful wrappings of a half-dozen recently opened gifts, including the turquoise and silver squash blossom necklace Desdemona's parents had sent from Tucson, littered the surface of the table. Only a few crumbs from the demolished birthday cake remained of the feast.

&nbs
p; Everyone watched Desdemona as she went to work on the last package. The crowd of Wainwrights waited with piqued curiosity to see what Stark's idea of a birthday present was. Juliet and Kirsten looked curious. Macbeth and Henry were intrigued. Tony's eyes were narrowed.

  Stark, himself, had a stoic expression on his face. He was clearly prepared for his present to be hailed as an unqualified disaster. Desdemona wondered how many gifts he had given in his life. Then she wondered how many he had received. She smiled at him.

  “Hurry up and open it, Desdemona,” Jason urged. “We went with Stark to buy it, and it's really neat.”

  Kyle grinned eagerly. “I bet you're gonna love it.”

  “I'm sure I will.” Desdemona's fingers trembled as she carefully undid the elaborate red bow.

  Her first gift from Stark, she thought with a sense of wonder. Whatever it was, she would cherish it forever.

  “Well? Let's have a look at it.” Augustus spoke from the far end of the table.

  Desdemona gave her uncle a mocking scowl of disapproval. “I haven't even got the paper off yet.”

  “Don't rush her, dear,” Bess said.

  “She went through the others quick enough,” Augustus retorted. “Same way she always does. How come this one's taking so long to open?”

  “Hang on a second, Uncle Augustus.” Desdemona carefully placed the bow on the table and peeled away the wrapping paper as though it were made of silk.

  When she was finished she found herself holding a small box. The picture on the lid showed a flat, high-tech-looking metal object no larger than her hand. The label beneath the picture read PDA X-1000.

  “It's beautiful,” Desdemona breathed. “It's the most beautiful PDA X-1000 I've ever seen. Thank you, Stark.”

  She jumped to her feet and went around the table to give him an exuberant kiss. The stoic look vanished from his eyes.

  “You like it?” he asked cautiously.

  “It's gorgeous.” Desdemona opened the box and removed the object inside. She touched it lovingly. “Just what I've always wanted.”

  “I knew she'd like it,” Kyle said gleefully. “I was with him when he picked it out.”

  “Me, too,” Jason said. “It's one of the new wireless models.”