Programmed for Peril

appetite, even for one of Estrella’s cinnamon buns, still oven warm at this time of day.
    She wanted to work energetically to occupy her mind. Instead she found herself repeatedly woolgathering. Her stomach was sour and her nerves on edge.
    What was going to happen to PC-Pros?
    At nine-thirty her phone warbled. She picked it up. A computer-generated man’s voice bubbling with optimism said, “Good morning. Please do not hang up. You have been selected to participate in a survey whose results will be immediately valuable to you. Press one if you are a man, two if you are a woman.”
    Trish hesitated. These things usually ended up with an offering of Florida condos or something else she didn’t need. Well, she wasn’t getting work done. She pressed two.
    “Thank you, Ms. or Mrs.,” intoned the voice. “Now press one if you are between twenty and twenty-five, two if you are between twenty-six and thirty, three if you are between thirty-one and thirty-five.”
    She pressed three.
    “Thank you. Now press one if you’re single, two if you’re married.”
    She pressed one. But not for long, she thought.
    “Thank you, Ms. Now press one if you’re engaged, two if you’re not.”
    Peddling bridal gowns or place settings for twelve, she thought. She pressed one, wondering how the program would swing her around to a particular product.
    “Thank you, Ms. Now key in the number, one to twelve, of the month of your wedding. Example: If you’re a June bride, press the six key.”
    She keyed in nine.
    “You have indicated that you’re to be married in September. We strongly insist that you reconsider this intention—”
    Trish gasped. Her diversion turned upside down—to torment! “Reconsider...” The same word she had seen on the screen and heard on her phone mail!
    “—at once. Failing to reconsider will bring to your business and yourself a world of trouble. This warning is absolutely genuine. The determination and resources are in Place to force you to change your mind. It would be wise to do so now. One minute will be allowed for you to reflect on your situation and, of course—reconsider! The minute begins now....” Beeps sounded on the second.
    She looked at the receiver imprisoned in her clutching hand. Her mind tumbled with thoughts. She snatched at them as they flew by, too shaken to get organized. It wasn’t PC-Pros that was her tormentor’s target.
    It was her upcoming wedding to Foster!
    Who knew she was marrying him that wouldn’t want it? Who would infect PCs with a virus, smash equipment, and make so many ingenious threats? How vulnerable both she and PC-Pros were in the face of some determined crazy! She whimpered. The programmed voice intoned, “Thirty seconds...”
    Her eyes darted around her office, found no comfort in the material evidence of her career success. She thought of slamming the receiver down. Some deep curiosity forbade it. Just as she had so often anticipated refusing Carson’s increasingly disturbing proposals, then consented out of a similar skewed fascination. Carson belonged now to the past. She had to fling that frame of mind back to him as well “Fifty seconds...” Memories of Carson froze her attention like a rodent before an adder. She thought... nothing until the voice spoke again.
    “Your period of reflection is over. Press one if you have truly decided to cancel your wedding. Press two to show your stubbornness and poor judgment.”
    “Two!” she shouted into the receiver. “Two, damn it!” She jabbed at the phone with a rigid index finger. Two, two, two!
    “A poor decision. We’ll be in touch—much closer touch —soon.” The line went dead. She held the receiver in the air for a long moment. Abruptly her thinking focused like a flashlight beam and moved in an entirely new direction.
    She hung up gently. To her surprise, she was smiling.
    She had guessed who was behind the call and who else had helped make it possible.
    Guessing sent her recent panic into retreat. She reached for the phone, then decided against calling. On the way out of the office she told Michelle to reach her via car phone, if necessary. She would be on the road. No matter personal problems, a manager shouldn’t be out of touch with her responsibilities.
    She drove straight to Danielle’s, probably the most exclusive women’s clothing store in the city. There amid swish surroundings wealthy customers turned rags to proprietor’s riches. Operating the store required sales