1999

        It's raining at Shannon Airport. What a surprise.

        Ian gets into his waiting car. He's not a happy camper. Driving is Chief of Security. Ian will get a complete briefing now.

        "How in bloody hell did they get in there?"

        "They appear to have used a digital sampler. It's an outgrowth of a music sampler which scans the sound of a musical instrument at 30,000 times a second until it has an exact replica. It sampled our security system. Then all they had to do was connect their replica to the alarms and shut ours down."

        "And the monkey?"

        "They must have located the monitor in his brain with a portable MRI scanner and then bore a tiny hole to get it out. He died from internal bleeding, not poison."

        "What disks are missing?"

        "Just the one for your computer. The trouble is, it only takes one since any given day's data will tell the whole story of your present project. All the other disks and the backups are safe. They knew they only needed one."

        "All disks are supposed to be locked up at the end of each day. I assume whoever left it in there has been sacked."

        "Not until we're sure there wasn't inside help. Then he'll be history."

        "Whom do you think it was?"

        "Chris."

        "Do you think he's involved?"

        "It's a hell of a coincidence. The very day they break in there's a disk to steal? There normally would not have been a disk left in your computer."

        Shit. I may have left it there. He'll have to take the fall. "What does he say?"

        "He swears he didn't use your computer."

        "How do you know there weren't any left in the other computers?"

        "They're all accounted for, except yours. By the way, do you have any uh, enemies who might want to damage you?"

        "I doubt that's it. It's what we are doing that would be important. Of course, there is all this politics now." Ian wants to change the subject. "They might have implanted bugs in the building to read our future data. Have you checked?"

        "It really isn't necessary to bug internally anymore. They could do it from a van a mile away if they have wartime IRA equipment."

        "I realize that, but internal bugs could be a backup system for them."

        "Yes sir, you're quite right."

        "So why would they go to the trouble of breaking in?"

        "That's the question. It could be just to show us that they can do it. Maybe for extortion purposes. But, as you say, it could be political. That makes things more complicated."

        "There could be some other reason we don't know about yet. In any case, we'll have to move the lab."

        "Yes sir."

        "Who knows about it?"

        Chief hands him a list of ten people. At first, Ian is ready to snarl about so many knowing, but he stuffs it. The fear that he might be the very idiot who left the disk in the computer has tempered his willingness to criticize. For a while, anyway. He reads the list.

        "Why an outside consultant?"

        "To determine the type of equipment used. It's pretty sophisticated. He says there should have been a sampler alarm in the security system."

        "They wouldn't give us the budget. They said this is not a military operation, just food research."

        "Yes, I heard."

        "Is he safe?"

        "He's old wartime IRA and a good friend of mine. And he knows what's going on these days. Some of the leftover provisionals with technical skills have got into covert corporate operations. It's good money. And they know what the hell they're doing."

        "How did they know about the monkey's monitor?"

        "Either they were reading you from outside or they had inside help. Maybe they had something on one of your staff. Have you any psychological profiles on them?"

        "They're not worth much." He's long been skeptical of industrial psychology. And rightly so.

        "We're doing lie detector tests right now. But they can fool you, as you know."

        Ian sits back and closes his eyes. It may be best to say there was inside involvement. That would avoid questions about my disk. On the other hand, the owners say the security system wasn't the problem. They're so high in the clouds with their goddamn philosophy and this corporate government crap. Things were fine. Why in the hell did they have to get into politics?

        Ian has not been overly unhappy with the corporate government crap, however. The idea of being a government official appeals to him in a big way, especially if it means getting a diplomatic passport and all the percs to go with it. Power always needs room to expand.

*

        Ian arrives at HQ in Tralee, four or five blocks from the No Name. 

        The history of the Dunloe group is secretive.

In 1972 the Dairy Disposal Co., owned by the people of Ireland, put up 42.5% of the money to set up the Dunloe Group. It has grown to the point where it is an international conglomerate that produces over 10,000 foods, food ingredients and flavour products to customers in more than 100 countries.

Dunloe's three shareholders: the State owned Dairy Disposal Company, a Federation of eight small farmer Co-operatives in Kerry, and the Erie Casein Company Inc. from the US, committed to invest approximately €200,000 to finance a €1 million dairy processing facility in Listowel, Co. Kerry, for the manufacture of milk protein (casein) for export to the U.S.A. Ownership of the company was shared with the Dairy Disposal Company holding 42.5%, the Federation 42.5% and Erie Casein 15%.

"42. Mr. Spring asked the Minister for Agriculture and Fisheries if the contributions requested from the concerns who have been endeavouring for the past few years to establish a casein factory in North Kerry have been increased; and, if so, if he will state the increased amount demanded from each concern. Mr. Fahey: The amount of such contributions is not a matter for my Department. Their level is one for decision by the promoters of the factory having regard to the total capital requirements, the amount of industrial grants which may be made available and the amount of borrowing which they may be in a position to arrange Dáil Éireann (Irish Parliament) Debate, March 3, 1971."

"The Dairy Disposal Company was responsible for the acquisition from private owners, management, development and disposal to co-operatives of many of the country's creameries and dairy produce factories between 1927 and 1979. The records of the Company in the National Archives include minutes, correspondence files, accounting records and plans. Access: Not generally available for inspection, but may be inspected with the written consent of the Dairying Section of the Department of Agriculture and Food. Finding aid: Draft list of records of the Dairy Disposal Company. Note: see also files of the Irish Co-operative Organisation Society. National Archives of Ireland."

*

        The meeting is already in progress.

        Present are four of the owners, two security people, and two of Ian's lab staff.

        "Ian, we've decided to close down the lab. We don't like secret research. It's bound to bring about things like this."

         Ian is stunned. "But as you well know sir, we have to stay ahead."

        "The public always thinks secret research is malicious in some way. We have taken a public stand to be moral in our dealings."

        Ian can't stand their preachy attitude. But he'll hardly show it. "Yes, sir," sullenly. "I am proud of my work. And we may be on to something as regards the manipulation of consumer taste preferences."

        "Yes, but that is covert manipulation. We envision a future where everything we do is open."

        "Yes, sir." Goddamn their gobshite.

        "We certainly understand how you feel. We will keep you on full salary and we'll find a suitable position for you. We have transferred most of your staff. We have fired Chris."

        "Yes, sir." His thoughts flash to the Two in Banba. He'll be back on holiday by tonight.

        The owners have not a lot of respect for Ian's lifestyle. They're old school are regards matters of love and marriage. But they respect his right to live his own life; which, by the way, they know a lot more about than he realizes. The owners balance their high morality with the practical business need to know about any extreme behavior of their top people.

        That's why they retained Red as a consultant. They certainly don't like her, but she had a great reputation in the old IRA for her loyalty and her professionalism. They not interested in the details of his sex life, but they know about Blonde and Brunette and don't like they way he treats them. But they also know that the Two are willing participants. If the situation were otherwise, Ian would have been fired as soon as they found out.

        Meeting over, Ian walks the four blocks to his lab on Matt Talbott Way. It's locked with new locks so he can't get in. He crosses over to the No Name and calls security to open the lab. Then he rings the Two in Banba. It's 6 A.M. there.

        Brunette answers sleepily.

        "Tell her to pick up."

        A "Hi, Baby" weakly sounds on the other phone.

        He's about to say that he'll be back there tonight, but he decides to spring it on them just to see if they've been behaving themselves.

        "How many men did you two sleep with last night?"

        "I only want you, Baby," in a serious sleepy voice..

        "That's grand. Say your sentences."

        Brunette listens reluctantly.

        "Now I want you to touch yourself while you say your sentences."

        "Yes, Baby."

        "Get in there with her," he orders Second in Command.

        As Blonde's sentences peak, he orders her to beg him to make love to her. She does. Her pleas soar thousands of miles up into space to the SATTEL, and then thousands more down to the No Name.

        He orders her to put her thumb in her mouth and continue with her pleas. Ian knows that every new variation increases her submissiveness. His power over her is total. He likes it. She loves it.

        As for the other half, he's long known that she does not love him. He likes that, too. His desire for her is based on ordering her to do what she's told when she really doesn't want to. At first that is. Sooner or later she gets into it.

        Blonde screams her climax into space. He wishes he had a tape so he could listen to it whenever he's away. He'll remember to make an audio cassette next time.

        "I'll ring you later. You were beautiful."

        "Thank you Baby," truly grateful for his kind words.

        He feels a moment of actual affection. "I'm going to buy you a present."

        "THANK YOU, Baby. When are you coming back?"

        "In a few days. Be a good girl."

        "You know I will Baby."

        As he leaves the No Name he bumps into a bespectacled woman with a new-looking reddish-brown shoulder-strap briefcase. I think I'll send Red to check up on them.

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