Exotech employee. He isn’t even wearing a visitor’s ID. Ohara frowns and glances at his Birnoth executive protectors, but neither one moves except to look at the stranger.
“Sorry to interrupt,” the stranger says, lifting an identity card that flashes a two-D photo of the man and, in alternating sequence, the easily recognized logo of Minuteman Security Services. “Lieutenant Kirkland,” the stranger says, glancing at the Birnoth guards. “Homicide Bureau.”
Ohara smiles. “Yes, Lieutenant. Is there something I can do to help you?”
With a poorly suppressed sneer, Wyatt departs.
Kirkland merely glances at him, then turns again to Ohara. “You’re Ohara?”
Ohara nods, still smiling. “Bernard Xavier Ohara. Yes.”
“Just want to make sure I got the right guy.” Kirkland gives a quick smile, nods. “I’m sure you’re busy. I’m a little short on time myself. Lemme toss you a few questions about Robert Neiman and then I’ll leave.”
“Of course. You’re conducting the investigation into Bob’s death?”
“Bob Neiman? Yeah, that’s right.”
“Would you care for cha?”
“A cup would go good about now. Thanks.”
Ohara waves a hand. Enoshi, hovering decoratively by the side door, summons the office lady, who delivers the tea. “So you’re the head honcho around here,” Kirkland says.
“I’m Chief Executive Officer and a member of the board of Kono-Furata-Ko, Exotech’s parent corporation.”
“Nice office.”
“Thank you.”
“I understand Mister Neiman was your protégé.”
Ohara smiles, just briefly. Toady might have been a better choice of words. “Protégé is perhaps too strong a word, Lieutenant. I recognized that Bob had management ability and so I saw to it that he found a position where he could exercise that ability.”
“Isn’t that what protégé means?”
“A question of emphasis, Lieutenant. I did not take a special interest in Bob’s career overall. I merely corrected what I saw as a waste of resources, if you’ll forgive the clinical terminology.”
“Is that how you saw it? Clinically?”
“No, not at all. I was very pleased to give Bob a boost upward. I was also pleased to upgrade the structure of the corporation.”
“So everybody’s happy.”
“Good morale is an integral part of a successful corporation.”
“And Exotech’s successful.”
“Quite right.”
“Neiman was a junior researcher and then you promoted him to head of the Special Projects Section? Sounds like quite a jump.”
“I’m sure it might seem that way. But from my perspective, it was not quite so big a jump. You should realize, Lieutenant, that the S.P.S. is really a very small unit, a small subsection of a small department.”
“Is that right?”
Ohara nods. It was not only right, he could prove it beyond any reasonable degree of doubt. “The bulk of our fiscal muscle goes right into product, marketing, sales. You must understand that, by and large, simsense is an established industry. The major R&D work is being done by the electronics people, such as Fuchi or Truman, who produce the sense decks by which end-users experience simsense. Exotech is primarily involved in the production of simsense chips, or what we call ‘wax’.”
“Some real hot wax, I’m told.”
Ohara nods. “Correct.”
“How did a simsense outfit like this end up in Philadelphia, anyway? I would’ve thought Cal Free a more likely locale.”
Ohara smiles. “Actually, Chicago is becoming the ‘Dream Town’ of the U.C.A.S., insofar as simsense is concerned. We maintain certain of our production facilities there as well as in Cal Free. However, Philadelphia offers excellent tax incentives.”
“I understand Exotech produces music, too. Not just simsense.”
Ohara nods. “Digitized extended-spectrum sound on MC-disk and chip, correct.”
“What was Neiman working on?”
Ohara hesitates, forming an uncertain expression. “I’m sorry?”
“He was in charge of Special
“Sorry to interrupt,” the stranger says, lifting an identity card that flashes a two-D photo of the man and, in alternating sequence, the easily recognized logo of Minuteman Security Services. “Lieutenant Kirkland,” the stranger says, glancing at the Birnoth guards. “Homicide Bureau.”
Ohara smiles. “Yes, Lieutenant. Is there something I can do to help you?”
With a poorly suppressed sneer, Wyatt departs.
Kirkland merely glances at him, then turns again to Ohara. “You’re Ohara?”
Ohara nods, still smiling. “Bernard Xavier Ohara. Yes.”
“Just want to make sure I got the right guy.” Kirkland gives a quick smile, nods. “I’m sure you’re busy. I’m a little short on time myself. Lemme toss you a few questions about Robert Neiman and then I’ll leave.”
“Of course. You’re conducting the investigation into Bob’s death?”
“Bob Neiman? Yeah, that’s right.”
“Would you care for cha?”
“A cup would go good about now. Thanks.”
Ohara waves a hand. Enoshi, hovering decoratively by the side door, summons the office lady, who delivers the tea. “So you’re the head honcho around here,” Kirkland says.
“I’m Chief Executive Officer and a member of the board of Kono-Furata-Ko, Exotech’s parent corporation.”
“Nice office.”
“Thank you.”
“I understand Mister Neiman was your protégé.”
Ohara smiles, just briefly. Toady might have been a better choice of words. “Protégé is perhaps too strong a word, Lieutenant. I recognized that Bob had management ability and so I saw to it that he found a position where he could exercise that ability.”
“Isn’t that what protégé means?”
“A question of emphasis, Lieutenant. I did not take a special interest in Bob’s career overall. I merely corrected what I saw as a waste of resources, if you’ll forgive the clinical terminology.”
“Is that how you saw it? Clinically?”
“No, not at all. I was very pleased to give Bob a boost upward. I was also pleased to upgrade the structure of the corporation.”
“So everybody’s happy.”
“Good morale is an integral part of a successful corporation.”
“And Exotech’s successful.”
“Quite right.”
“Neiman was a junior researcher and then you promoted him to head of the Special Projects Section? Sounds like quite a jump.”
“I’m sure it might seem that way. But from my perspective, it was not quite so big a jump. You should realize, Lieutenant, that the S.P.S. is really a very small unit, a small subsection of a small department.”
“Is that right?”
Ohara nods. It was not only right, he could prove it beyond any reasonable degree of doubt. “The bulk of our fiscal muscle goes right into product, marketing, sales. You must understand that, by and large, simsense is an established industry. The major R&D work is being done by the electronics people, such as Fuchi or Truman, who produce the sense decks by which end-users experience simsense. Exotech is primarily involved in the production of simsense chips, or what we call ‘wax’.”
“Some real hot wax, I’m told.”
Ohara nods. “Correct.”
“How did a simsense outfit like this end up in Philadelphia, anyway? I would’ve thought Cal Free a more likely locale.”
Ohara smiles. “Actually, Chicago is becoming the ‘Dream Town’ of the U.C.A.S., insofar as simsense is concerned. We maintain certain of our production facilities there as well as in Cal Free. However, Philadelphia offers excellent tax incentives.”
“I understand Exotech produces music, too. Not just simsense.”
Ohara nods. “Digitized extended-spectrum sound on MC-disk and chip, correct.”
“What was Neiman working on?”
Ohara hesitates, forming an uncertain expression. “I’m sorry?”
“He was in charge of Special
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