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'Stella Sark,' she introduced herself. 'You know, I'm surprised I didn't interview you for this job. Usually Sir Manning asks me to meet all the management recruits.'
'Perhaps it was your day off,' the Doctor said. 'So, you're the famous Stella Sark? May I call you-'
'Miss Sark,' she told him. 'Yes, you may.'
'Miss Sark,' the Doctor echoed. 'It has a ring to it.'
He found himself a chair between two men in smart suits.
'This is cosy,' he said to them. 'Do we get biscuits?
Custard creams are the best. Or those ones that look like they've got squashed flies stuck in them.'
Neither of the men said anything, so the Doctor held out his hand to one of them. 'Garibaldi,' he remembered the squashed fly biscuits were called.
The man shook his hand. 'Edward Howell. Pleased to meet you, Gary.'
It took the Doctor a moment to work it out. Then he laughed. 'Oh, sorry. No I'm not Gary. Imagine being called Gary Baldie, especially if you had no hair. That'd be something, wouldn't it? No, no, no, just call me Doctor.'
He turned to the man on the other side of him. 'Sorry, didn't catch your name.'
'Gary,' the man said. He was completely bald.
'Joke,' the man explained, breaking into a grin. 'It's Clive.'
Someone cleared their throat very loudly. It was Stella Sark, now standing at the end of the large table. The Doctor realised that she and everyone else was looking at him and the man who wasn't called Gary.
'If you are all quite ready?' Miss Sark said. 'We have a lot to get through today. Sir Manning will join us for the closing summary in an hour.'
The Doctor shielded his mouth from Miss Sark and asked Clive in a loud whisper: 'Sir Manning Cross, is that?'
Clive nodded, while trying to look as though he had not heard the Doctor. Though everyone else at the table had.
'He's my boss,' the Doctor whispered proudly.
'No, Doctor,' Miss Sark said. 'Sir Manning is my my boss. boss.
And I am yours.'
The Doctor nodded and raised his hand to show he'd understood. 'Of course, but he's sort of my boss too, isn't he?
Well,' he went on, 'I guess he's all our bosses really. Can we do that thing where we go round the table?'
Miss Sark blinked, thrown by the change of subject.
'I don't mean musical chairs,' the Doctor said quickly.
'Well, that's a mercy,' Miss Sark said.
'Though musical chairs might be fun. No, I mean, you know, go round the table and introduce ourselves. I'll start.
I'm the Doctor. I'm a bit new, well I only started today actually. I'm managing Workflow and Strategy, er, stuff.
Anyway, I'm settling in nicely, thank you. Everyone's being very helpful.' He nudged Clive. 'Right, you turn.'
'I think the rest of us know each other,' Miss Sark said coldly. 'Perhaps we can introduce ourselves over coffee. At the coffee break,' she added in case the Doctor saw this as an excuse to get coffee now.
'Just as long as I don't feel left out,' the Doctor agreed.
'That all right with you, Clive?'
The hour until the coffee break was one of the most boring the Doctor could recall, but he didn't complain. He tried not to yawn too often.
When Miss Sark went through the monthly budget figures, he began to get interested. The spending on the Computer Department was far higher than he had expected.
When Miss Sark showed the numbers of hits on the Brainy_Crisps website, the Doctor was more than surprised he was astonished. He whistled through his teeth.
'Impressed, Doctor?' Miss Sark asked.
'Gobsmacked, Miss Sark.'
'You shouldn't be. The website is a key part of our strategy. As the manager handling Strategy and Workflow, I'd expect you know that.'
'I'm gobsmacked that we get all those people visiting the website, and haven't found a way of making money from it.
What sort of strategy is that?' The Doctor leaned forward. 'Or is it that maybe just maybe making money isn't what we are trying to do?'
Miss Sark's eyes narrowed. 'Moving swiftly on to more pressing matters,' she said, 'I'd like to talk about the window-cleaning contract...'
Sir Manning Cross was a contrast to Miss Sark. He slipped into the room almost unnoticed. He was a tall, lean man with a hooked nose and deep-set eyes. The Doctor saw him standing at the side of the room, watching as Miss Sark ended her talk. Sir Manning caught the Doctor's eye, and for the briefest moment he looked puzzled. Then he smiled. The Doctor smiled back.
Miss Sark sat down, and Sir Manning walked to the head of the table. 'Thank you, Miss Sark. An excellent job, as ever.
I just wanted to say, very quickly, that this month's figures are even better than last month's. My thanks to all of you for that.
Our plan is on track, on time, and on budget.'
'Plan?' the Doctor asked.
'Business plan,' Miss Sark told him sharply.
Sir Manning did not seem to hear either of them. 'Now, if there are no questions...' It was clear he didn't expect any.
He frowned. 'Yes?'
The Doctor had his hand up. 'Sorry, is it only me? Just one very quick question, if I may? That wasn't the question, by the way.'
'Yes?' Sir Manning prompted.
'Why are we spending so much on the computers? Well, there's the website, I know about that. There's the special factory producing the Brainy Crisps. There's the firm's systems and all that. Still, I think it's an awful lot of money.'
Sir Manning tilted his head to one side as he considered.
It made him look like a hawk eyeing up its prey. 'It's good to invest in new technology,' he said at last. 'It's good to look to the future, don't you think?'
'Always,' the Doctor agreed. 'That doesn't really answer my question, though, does it?'
'You have so many questions.' Sir Manning clicked his tongue thoughtfully. 'But that isn't a bad thing. The person you need to talk to is Henry. He's in charge of the computer systems.'
'Henry?' The Doctor looked round the table. But no one owned up to being Henry.
'He doesn't come to these meetings,' Miss Sark said. 'I have no idea why.'
'Perhaps he finds them a bit boring and useless,' the Doctor said lightly. 'Just a thought.'
Ten minutes later, the meeting room was empty apart from Sir Manning and Miss Sark.
'So who is he?' Sir Manning wanted to know.
'The Doctor Doctor Smith. He is the new Manager for Strategy and Workflow.'
Sir Manning raised an eyebrow. 'I didn't know we had a new manager for Strategy and Workflow.'
'Neither did I. I thought you must have hired him.'
Sir Manning shook his head. 'I don't even know what Strategy and Workflow means and neither does he, I suspect.'
'It could be some sort of mix-up,' Miss Sark said. 'He seems harmless enough.'
Sir Manning's mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. 'And you seem human enough. Looks can deceive.
We know that more than anyone.'
'Do you want him dealt with?'
'If he's here to make trouble, it's clear what his next move will be.'
Miss Sark smiled. 'Of course. He'll go and see Henry.'
Sir Manning Cross was smiling too. 'I think we can let Henry deal with him.'
Chapter Five.
Gabby was happy to set up a meeting with Henry, who was Director of Computing. He turned out to be a middle-aged man with thinning dark hair and a beer belly. He was wearing a suit. The Doctor could tell from the stains what Henry had eaten every day for the last week.
Henry brought his 'Number Two' with him. This was a spotty youth called Jeff. He had long greasy hair and was wearing jeans. He looked more like someone on work experience than the deputy to a director. Both of them seemed nervous and awkward as the Doctor waved them to chairs in his office.
'So what's the problem?' Henry asked.
'I didn't say there was a problem,' the Doctor pointed out.
Jeff laughed. 'No one wants to see us unless there's a problem. What is it? Can't you log in? Is your screen frozen?
Are you getting an error message that makes no sense?'
The Doctor shook his head. 'None of the above. I'm fine.
I just wanted to have a chat, really. See how it's going. Find out what I can do to help.'
'Find out what you can do to help us? us? ' Henry said. The way he looked at Jeff and the way he looked at him suggested that this was new thinking. ' Henry said. The way he looked at Jeff and the way he looked at him suggested that this was new thinking.
'Well, there was one other thing,' the Doctor admitted.
'Ah,' Henry said.
'Knew it,' Jeff muttered.
'I'd like you to tell me all about the computer systems you have here. You have a huge budget, so what do you spend it on? How much digital power do you have here, and how is it used?'
Both Henry and Jeff were staring at the Doctor open-mouthed. Their surprise turned to complete astonishment when the Doctor added, 'I'm interested.'
Before long, Henry and Jeff were chatting with the Doctor like old friends. He soon had a good idea of how the computer systems worked. He was right the food firm had a much bigger computer system that it would need just to make crisps. Whatever the Krillitanes were up to, the computer systems must be vital to it.
The Doctor also realised that Henry and Jeff were both good at their jobs. At least, Henry was great at the technical aspects. He didn't sound like he could really cope with the management role he'd been given. It was a cla.s.sic case of someone promoted to the point where they were out of their depth.
Jeff took over the Doctor's computer and began to show him some of the firm's systems. He displayed plans of the computer network, and lists of computer servers. He showed the amount of work each one did and how the jobs were shared out and balanced across the network.
'So most of the computing power is linked in to the Brainy_Crisps website,' the Doctor said.
'That's right,' Jeff agreed.
'But surely it doesn't need that much power. Not even with all the people who visit the site.'
'The computers have to handle the tests the people do,'
Henry said. 'But you're right. It's strange, we keep adding more and more computer power and still it doesn't seem to be enough to process all the data that comes back.'
'It's almost as if that data was a lot more than just simple test results,' the Doctor said. 'I think there's more to this website that the three of us understand.'
Jeff laughed. 'It's just a website with some simple tests so people can check if they've got any more brainy after eating the crisps.'
Henry, however, was nodding. 'That's what I think, Doctor. I'm not stupid,' he went on, 'and neither is Sir Manning Cross, but he's given me a job that I'm not really any good at. I have to wonder if that's on purpose, and if so why?'