She led the three back into the main house and showed them into the dining-room, where a single round table was impeccably laid for four; a white starched linen tablecloth and matching napkins, expensive and genuine silverwear, crystal glasses for water, wine and spirits and a large floral table centre. Russ was sitting on the far side as they approached, smoking with a large cigar in his hand and what looked to be a Scotch or a Bourbon on the table. He rose slowly to greet his guests.

'Welcome!' He held out his hand to the two Englishmen. 'I trust that everything is going well? Sit down. Greg, you sit opposite me.' The three of them did as Russ bid, Pat helping himself to water from the bottle on the table.

It was Greg who answered the first question. 'It's all going very, very well! Just two bugs so far!'

'Isn't that two, too many?' They all hoped it wasn't going to be one of those nights. 'Are they serious?'

'I wouldn't think so!' Greg was giving the same line as he had earlier. 'One has already been fixed. That's right isn't it, Pat?' Pat nodded in agreement. 'And the other's down to my old machine, which often finds problems as it's so slow.'

'You're lucky we haven't shot her yet!'

Pat's reply had been light-hearted, but Russ' snapped reply was not. 'Look! This is all fucking serious, where a lot of money is involved. Fucking fix it!'

'Calm down, Russ!' Pat didn't particularly want to get into a heated argument, about something he knew might well be trivial. 'It just sounds like it's an old-of-date version problem on one of Microsoft's system programs. Happens all the time, when you develop software. A little bit of searching and checking and we'll find it tomorrow!'

'You better fucking find it!'

'A word, Russ!' Pat felt that he had to make a point. 'If I am going to sit down and have dinner with nybody, then I feel that I want it to be a pleasant experience, with at least some civility. No swearing, if you dont mind!'

'Now, who's the precious poof?' Russ had stood and was looking threatenly at Pat. 'You take me as I am, or the deal's off!'

Pat caught his friend's eye across the table and decided that to back down, although against his better judgement might be the best in their joint, long term interest. He had thought about standing up and facing Russ or even hitting him hard, but instead spoke quietly. 'I think that we could all do with a drink, Russ! I see you've already got a start on us!'

Russ took the cue and sat down. 'You're right! I guess you guys, would like a drink.' He picked up a small brass bell and rang it. 'Isn't this just neat? Let's see what happens.'

As he put down the bell, the door opened and four blonde school-girls entered and lined up behind Russ. Or to put it more correctly, four beautiful women, of whom they recognised three, dressed as characatures in short gym-slips and stockings, with broad coloured ribbons in their hair.

'As it's England.' Russ indicated the girls. 'I thought you'd all like our meal jazzed up with a few naughty English public school-girls. You've met Suzanne.' She curtsied. 'The twins, Sin and Dex.' They curtsied together. 'And Melanie. She's the one who's nominally in charge.' Melanie waved the girls to stand to the right of each of the four men.

***

The apprehension brought on by Russ's first comment about the bugs tended to be unfounded and with the girls present, his manner became much less combative and aggressive. As Greg told the story of the day, whilst they got through the best part of two very good bottles of an expensive New Zealand Chardonnay, Russ became his urbane and pleasant self, almost praising the work done so quickly in a short and very hectic afternoon.

The optimistic mood did not last.

Just as everything seemed to be going so well, Russ dropped his bombshell. 'As you know, most of the shares in Zyzzx are held by my father. He felt, that as he is now well past retirement, that they should now be given to me, as his son and heir. From now on, I have total control. And things are going to be different!'

'How different?' Greg asked the question, with a great deal of trepidation. 'Does it make that much difference? After all you're the CEO ...'

Russ didn't let him finish. 'Yes! That's right!' He continued with a vicious grin on his face. 'And as I own most of Zyzzx, you can't stop me doing what I want!'

'And what might your plans be?' Greg was speaking for everybody. 'If we are to work for the company in the future, then it is important we all know!'

Russ was enjoying himself. 'For a start, I will eventually want one hundred percent of the company.' He grinned menacingly at each of them in turn, reserving the worst of his glare for the programmer. 'So you had better be prepared to sell your shares at the right price!'

'What would you consider a fair price?'

'For you and Pat!' He pointed at both the Englishmen. 'Zilch! Fuck all! Nothing! You don't own any shares. Sort out your price with Adams. He brought you two dickheads to the party!' Russ started to laugh.

'You bastard!' Pat had broken in, wondering why he had worked so hard and completely wasted the last nine months. 'You need our interface! And you know it!'

'Of course, I don't!' Russ was triumphant. 'Do you think I'd trust my company... Note, my company! Note yours! Mine! ...to a bunch of limey faggots?'

Pat rose, but was motioned to sit down by his friend. Reluctantly he did. 'Russ, Pat, Greg. Let's all be very calm and adult about this!' He was being his most conciliatory, something that he found very difficult. 'I think that we ought to bear in mind, that we must check the legal position. For instance, as I recall, any change in the shareholdings of Zyzzx or Medusa, gives the other party the right to renegotiate and if they feel like it withdraw ...'

That's right!' Russ broke in again. 'Fuck off, if you want. I've found a team in Hungary, who can replace you, your faggot friend and that bunch of high-minded academics in that museum they call Cambridge.'

'Then there's Greg's and his fellow shareholders position.' Greg moved to interject, but he was stopped. 'I've seen your shareholders agreement and they are all very well protected. I've never met your father, but he seems to have all of the sense and compassion you lack.' Russ now attempted to break in, but he continued quietly and with a firm determination. 'You break their contracts and there are twenty thousand American lawyers, who will then attempt to break and bankrupt you, for a share of your money. If they win, you would have to resign and they would control Zyzzx. If they lost, then every member of your key staff would set up in competition and Zyzzx would be worth nothing.'

'You're talking balls.'

'No! You can't take everybody on. Someone, somewhere will win and just as a trickle finally breaks a dam, by growing into a torrent, you and Zyzzx will be destroyed.' He paused, and after realising that he had silenced Russ, he continued. 'But like all good concepts, ideas and philosophies, you will not be able to kill the principles behind Zyzzx. Perhaps, here in this country, which you despise so much, a group of refugees will start to plan and program, and within a few years, there will be a daughter of Zyzzx, who will do everything that her father tried to do and failed.'

As he finished, he stood forestalling any reply from Russ. 'It's no point arguing, now! I'm going to take a break for a few minutes and when I return we'll all be calm and polite, with no more references to lawyers, faggots, Hungarians, broken contracts and any other unpleasantaries. At least until all of the software has been tested and the deal has been struck!'

Copyright 1999 by Ewart Higgins