Ohhhhhhh, the pain, the pain… how could I have done this…

DAY 5:

The waiting is over. For days I have resisted their savage attacks, only to succumb during a moment of optimism. The news that the Talon Clan discovered the truth about Sevarius and had turned on Xanatos left me almost giddy with delight, so I was vulnerable when I was called into the Warder’s office.

My paranoia was correct, as it usually is. The Left Coast contact failed to come through. In fact, the Warden chuckled and told me he “expired.” It was a vain hope, I realize that now.

My hopes crushed, my tormenters quickly moved in for the kill. “Send him to The Swamp!” they chortled. “Make him work on NT!”

Suddenly my rage built up. Not the dreaded NT! Even the threat of litigation was nothing compared to that agony.

“Never!” I roared, and for once I saw the fear in their eyes.

“Perhaps NT is too much,” the Warden commented to his lackey. “Send him to The Swamp, but allow him to work on Unix.”

Then, almost as an afterthought, “After all, we cannot afford to anger the Swamp Kings.”

This will be my final entry. I cannot tell what facilities the Swamp Kings have, so I must break communications now. I will be allowed to return to my humble home to gather the few belongings I need to survive, then I will be sent off to The Swamp for more unspeakable torment…

I need an agent.

I need one of those fast-talking, hand-shaking, overbearing Hollywood agents to manage my career. I certainly can’t do it…

In the last five minutes, I managed to be talked out of a position in San Jose (I wonder now if there ever was such a position—or am I just paranoid?) and talked into that position in Jacksonville. I think I panicked when the hint of legal interaction entered the conversation. Actually, I think that I imagined that hint, too. I mean, what could they do? All the agreements I made were verbal, on the telephone, and unrecorded. Still, I’ve agreed.

There are bright spots, however. I made this company nervous by refusing to work on Windows 95/NT, even indirectly. They’re starting to realize that this meek, vacillating little programmer might be an impolitic time-bomb that might go off at any time.

Another bright spot is that I made it clear that if I do accept that position in Jacksonville, I may have to return at any moment to take care of a sick friend, with minimal warning. Hey Rich, can you fake cancer?

I’m thinking of posting my résumé again. Just to make this company’s Internet Spooks very nervous. What do you think?

— Rob