Spam and Rice
a novel by CE Wills
copyright 2007, all rights reserved
published by Smashwords Inc. 2010
This book is the sequel to Centaur's Wrath and the third novel in a four volume group about the same characters. Though it can certainly be enjoyed as a stand-alone book, your enjoyment of it will doubtless be enhanced if you read the books in order with The Dan Tattoo being the first.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, whether living or dead, is purely coincidental. It contains adult situations and language. All characters are 18 years of age or older.
CHAPTER 1
Sidney Rice had not seen the mid-life crisis bearing down on him. In good measure the crisis was his own fault. He was in his thirties, with a younger, attractive wife. She was pretty and he neglected her for his work. As usual in such cases there were other men ready to step into the void.
Sidney, ever a computer geek, was obtuse concerning his wife's straying. Sheila was thrashing about in bed with her lover even as Sidney thrashed the keys of his computer. He was a programmer, one of the best in the United States. As such, his salary was in the six-figure range and should have been more.
The first inkling that Sidney had of marital trouble came one night when he arrived home rather late. The house was in total darkness, which surprised him but did not alarm him.
Sidney unlocked the front door and entered. He noticed an odd echo as he put his laptop case on the floor and flipped on the living room lights. He gasped in shock.
The living room was totally bare. There was not a stick of furniture to be seen. The curtains were gone from the windows. The phone was gone and even its cord was missing.
In disbelief that approached physical shock he stumbled through the rambling home. Each room revealed a like condition with the exception of the master bedroom. His meager array of clothing, most of it worn, tacky and a monument to poor taste, was still in the closet. His underwear and socks had been stacked neatly against the wall. No doubt the chest of drawers in which they had resided was even now in a mover's van, along with all the other furnishings.
Sidney's tall, thin body sank to the floor and he leaned his shaggy head against the wall. He sat stunned for hours as his analytical brain began to sort things out. He began to see little things in his wife's recent behavior; small signs that had presaged this storm.
Sidney was fortunate. He had never been an emotional man. He was able to rally fairly quickly from a blow that might have been crippling for another individual. It was helpful that the catastrophe occurred on a Friday. He had a rare weekend off to pull his shit together before returning to work.
He never mentioned the incident to anyone. No one mentioned it to him. Sidney was something of a loner, a very private man. He was a man that never encouraged intimacy with anyone.
Sidney went about his job in much the same way. He found comfort in his work and was able to put aside thoughts of Sheila for brief periods. These respites from sorrow kept him from any sort of emotional breakdown. Some of his co-workers noticed his haggardness and some weight loss, however.
Sidney worked for CEBA. CEBA was a computer engineering firm in Columbia, South Carolina. They were a Department of Defense contractor. They specialized in developing war-game simulations that were used for strategic planning. It was their boast that much of the planning for both Iraq wars had been through the use of their products.
One day Lyle Jackson, the owner of the company, called Sid into his office. When the pleasantries had been exchanged, Lyle regarded his talented subordinate seriously. He saw the haggard, bearded face. He noted the shaggy, black hair and the rumpled clothes. Lyle found himself grateful that Sid had at least done away with the pocket protector that had been a part of his equipment.
"Sid, I need to speak plainly for a moment." Lyle rose from his desk and stood gazing out the window. He could see the zoo from his window. It was a welcome splash of green amidst the concrete buildings.
Sid looked at his boss warily. He cordially detested this pompous ass. Lyle Jackson was fat, lazy and unimaginative. He was forty-five years old, with sparse blond hair that scarcely hid his pink scalp. He was a cheap bastard, even though he paid well. Lyle had refused to buy laptops for his employees, which still rankled amongst the programmers.
"Speak your peace, boss," Sid said.
"I'm sending a team to Pearl Harbor to bring the Navy people up to speed on our new system." He turned to look at Sid.
"That's hardly a news flash, is it Lyle? After all, I'm the team leader on that project."
Lyle forced a tight smile.
"Yes, of course, and you've done a wonderful job on a tight schedule."
Sid could not restrain a grimace. Lyle Jackson was famous for setting ridiculous deadlines, then pushing his underlings to meet them. This resulted in massive amounts of overtime. Since the programmers were on salary, they did not get paid anything extra for the long hours. Sid knew full well how this had contributed to his own divorce.
Lyle walked around his desk and sat on its edge facing Sid.
"I'd like for you to head the team that goes to Honolulu next month, Sid."
Sid blinked in surprise. Typically, a department head didn't go on these junkets. Lyle took his silence for reluctance and hurried on.
"This contract is huge for us. We need to resolve any bugs in the program quickly. I want the Navy to buy off on it before election day. Defense spending could get tighter come November."
Sid nodded thoughtfully. It occurred to him that a change of scenery would be good for him. Surely Hawaii would be a beautiful place to visit.
"Sure, Lyle. If that's what you want."
Jackson seemed relieved. It was evident that he had expected resistance. He shook Sid's hand and smoothly ushered him out of the office.
As Sid walked back to his own office, he was deep in thought. How could a man get notified of a pending seven days in Hawaii and feel as though he had just been screwed?
CHAPTER 2
Sidney's sojourn in Hawaii had not gone well. With every passing day he grew more frustrated. Part of this was due to the fact that Sid had been on the edge for years. No vacations to speak of, long hours and a personality that put fun on the back burner made Sid a prime candidate for an emotional meltdown.
Sid had planned on being in Hawaii for seven days. There had been some quirks in the war game programming which had delayed the team and their stay had been extended to ten days.
You would think that three extra days in paradise would have been welcomed but they were not. The other members of his team had families they wanted to get back to. This, of course, was not Sid's problem, but all three members of his team had one common complaint.
They were now in their ninth day in one of the most beautiful places on earth and had seen almost none of it.
They had been working twelve to fourteen hours a day. They were working in a concrete building, with no windows, at Pearl Harbor. The security was tight and each team member had a security escort at all times while on the installation. Every trip to the restroom entailed asking your escort to go with you. It had been tedious and monotonous.
All the things that Sid had planned to do during his visit to Hawaii had been frustrated by his work. His rage had built to the point where he fantasized about choking Lyle Jackson.
It was at such an inopportune moment that Lyle chose to call Sid. Sid was at Pearl, surrounded by concrete walls, on a beautiful day. When his cell phone rang, he answered.
"Hello."
"Sid, how's it going?"
"It's going well, Lyle, as far as the new system is concerned. We're due to wrap things up tomorrow."
"That's great, Sid." Lyle was enthusiastic in his praise, then dropped a bombshell on Sid. "Listen buddy, since tomorrow is Friday, why don't you guys take Monday off and return to work on Tuesday?"
Sid's temper flared.
"Are you crazy? We thought we'd get all week off after this! You know the kind of hours we've been working!"
"Calm down, Sid." Lyle spoke calmly, trying to pour oil on water. "Go ahead and take Tuesday off if you want, but I need you guys on Wednesday to start a new project."
Sid exploded. He began to curse his boss. Months of frustration, along with the stress of his divorce, simply boiled over. His Navy escort, a young enlisted man, looked at him in alarm. Sid was the holder of a top-secret clearance and any sort of aberrant behavior from him was a concern to Naval Intelligence.
"You cocksucker," Sid shouted into the phone. "We spend months working overtime on this project, then fly ten hours to get here, ten hours back, and don't even get to see the sights?"
"Hold on just a second, Sid. No employee of mine can curse me and get away with it!"
"Like hell I can't! I quit! I'll leave Hawaii when I'm damn good and ready!"
Sid hung up, then stuck the phone back into his pocket. When it immediately rang again, he turned it off rather than renew the conversation with Lyle. Sid failed to notice his escort's agitation. He turned to the sailor and made a last request.
"Barry, could you escort me to the gate, please? I've just quit my job."
CHAPTER 3
Amy McNair sat in her small office at Pearl Harbor. She was a naval officer, a Lieutenant. She served in the Naval Intelligence section and had ten years of service. Amy was thirty-two years old and had never been married. She rarely dated and never went out with anyone from the office. For these reasons it was rumored that she was a lesbian, which was absurd. In reality, she was simply a career woman, reserved and formal.
Amy was smart and capable. Her boss gave her carte blanche on her assignments for several reasons. The most compelling of which was that her father and her boss had been classmates at Annapolis. Amy took pains to ensure that she never abused this trust.
Lieutenant McNair was a woman who downplayed her attractiveness, not that she was stunningly beautiful in the first place. She was of average height and very slim. Her breasts were so small she might have posed as a boy. In her spotless white uniform she looked cold, efficient and austere. She wore her long, sandy-brown hair woven in a tight braid down her back and used very little makeup. Despite the fact that she lived in Hawaii, she was very pale. Her face was pretty but she rarely smiled and she was professional to the point where she made few friends.
Before her on the desk was a thick file. On the file's tab was the name Sidney Rice. The case of Mr. Rice was a subject of fascination with the Lieutenant. Rice's emotional tirade a few months earlier had caused many ripples in the pond of life.
The incident had been reported as 'aberrant behavior by a defense contractor'. The case had been given to Amy. The first thing that Amy had done was to access the existing reports on the subject. This encompassed a great deal of information, since Sidney held a top-secret clearance. The FBI had done a thorough check of Mr. Rice before the clearance was granted. This included face to face interviews with former neighbors, teachers and friends. They had searched for membership in subversive organizations and unusual sexual activity that could be exploited by foreign agents.
Amy discovered that Mr. Rice was squeaky clean at the time the clearance was granted. The FBI could find no one who was willing to say a bad word about him. This was unusual but not shockingly so.
As demanding as the previous investigation had been, Amy's was much more in depth. After Rice's outburst at Pearl she had asked for a new look at Rice by her assets on the mainland. Phones were tapped, people were followed, photos were taken. No subterfuge was discovered.
What they had discovered was that Lyle Jackson was an asshole who ran his company in a fashion which could pose a security risk. Rather than keep his employees happy, he drove them relentlessly, taking advantage of people who were conscientious and professional. For these reasons and others Amy had submitted a formal recommendation that CEBA's contract should be terminated. After weeks of turmoil this had come to pass. CEBA had declared bankruptcy and Lyle Jackson had lost his top-secret clearance.
That left the matter of Sidney Rice. It was at this point that Miss Amy McNair took over from Lieutenant Amy McNair. In a word, Amy fell in love with the man she was investigating. It is doubtful that she realized this, at least not at first.
Amy was aware that she felt sorry for Rice when she read about his wife's affair, the empty house and the divorce. Her fantasy about the man went deeper than that.
The man seemed so helpless, Amy mused. Brilliant as he was, Rice was socially incompetent. He could scarcely balance a checkbook or change a light bulb. He had paid people to cut his grass, change the oil in his car and do his plumbing. He had very few acquaintances and no real friends. He was a loner, a recluse.
Amy spread a multitude of photos across the desk. They were of Rice and his known associates. She studied the pictures for the hundredth time. What dreadful clothes he wore! She reflected that he might be quite handsome if he had a proper haircut, some clothes from the current decade, and perhaps a shave. Sidney's features were nice, if a little cadaverous.
A sigh escaped Amy's lips as she leaned back in her chair. She found herself longing to help the man, to show him how to live, to change him. Perhaps that was the attraction; Amy wanted to fix Sidney, to mother him.
Her cell phone rang and she checked the caller's number. Amy saw that it was from the surveillance team that was attached to Mr. Rice and answered the phone eagerly.
"Yes?"
"Lieutenant? This is Anderson. The subject is on the move again. He's just arrived at the U.S.S. Missouri. Looks like he's just being a tourist still. Nothing significant to report."
"Thanks for the update, Anderson. Pay particular attention to those who walk by him. Watch for a brush pass, that sort of thing."
"Sure, Lieutenant. My gut tells me the guy is as American as apple pie. I'd bet money he's a virgin."
Amy suppressed a giggle with difficulty.
"That's hardly likely, since he was married for eight years."
Anderson laughed and rang off. Amy returned to her reflections about Sidney Rice. These thoughts were now colored by Anderson's assessment of Rice's sexual innocence. Anderson was not far off the mark. All the information they had gathered suggested that Sheila Rice had been the only woman that Sidney had ever slept with.
After a few moments Amy grabbed her purse and left her office. She had decided to go to the U.S.S. Missouri and watch Sidney Rice for a while.
CHAPTER 4
Sidney Rice was enjoying life in general and life in Hawaii in particular. He had been in the islands for months now and had yet to regret quitting his job. What a tragedy it would have been to have spent ten days here without really seeing the place, he thought.
Sid had a substantial amount of money in the bank when he quit his job. It had, at first, been his intent to stay in Hawaii a few days, then return to Columbia and find a new job.
Something had happened to that plan. He had fallen in love with Hawaii.
He found Hawaii fascinating. It was so different from home. There was natural beauty and physical beauty. A diverse population of many ethnicities seemed to give life to the place. A staggering amount of Japanese tourists were in the area on any given day. Their undying interest in Pearl Harbor intrigued Sidney. He thought that it might have been a chapter in their history they would like to forget. Many school groups from Japan were in evidence, however.
It amused Sid to be referred to as a 'howli' by the Hawaiians. They were not overly fond of white people and much preferred Japanese tourists because the Japanese were more prolific spenders. As one vender said in Sid's hearing, Americans bought tee-shirts and Japanese bought jewelry.
Even going to McDonald's had been interesting. On the menu board was a dish called Spam and Rice. When he asked some people about this oddity he learned that the dish was wildly popular in Hawaii and could be purchased almost anywhere.
Another odd facet of Hawaiian culture was the shrimp trucks that dashed about. Bold entrepreneurs bought small vans and sold cups of shrimp from them, much like ice cream vendors in Columbia.
Sidney actually fell in love with Hawaii when he drove to the area known as The North Shore. The name was appropriate because it was literally the north shore of the island on which Honolulu was located. The island of Oahu.
Sid rented a convertible shortly after quitting his job and drove out of the city of Honolulu. It was a beautiful morning and he had the top down. He was glad to leave the horrific traffic behind him. Even in Hawaii, cities were unpleasant places.
As he drove north, he was surprised to see a lot of open country, few homes and very little traffic. There were green fields with volcanic ridges set behind them. Red dirt banks rose several feet above the road in places. Many types of trees and flowers passed within the range of his vision but he could not identify them. He would have fared better deciphering lines of code.
He watched with admiration some splendid horses running across an open field. Less than a minute later he saw some shacks and beat-up trailers where ragged children played in the dirt.
The poverty of certain areas surprised Sidney. He had always thought of Hawaii as a prosperous place. It occurred to him that he had been naive in a lot of his preconceptions.
When Sid reached Waimea Bay, he dropped off the edge of a steep ridge and down into a bowl where the beach began. He noticed that he lost cell-phone service the second he drove down the hill.
Before he reached the beach, Sid could hear the boom of the surf. When he had parked the convertible and walked onto the sand his mouth dropped open at the magnitude of the waves. The walls of water rushed ashore with savage fury, some of them had to be thirty, even forty feet high.
A song came to his mind that his father had liked years before. It was by Jan and Dean.
'In Hawaii there's a place known as Waimea Bay
Where the best surfers in the world
Come to stay
And ride the wild surf they come to try
To conquer those waves some thirty feet high.'
This, then, was that Mecca for the surfers of the world. He saw a few dots on the waves even now. There was a green board on the crest of a wave and then board and rider disappeared in a pounding froth. Could the man have lived? Yes, he bobbed to the surface, evidently unhurt.
Surprisingly few people were around. Fewer than a dozen were within Sid's range of vision. There was none of the glamour and commercialism of Honolulu here. There was not so much as a coke machine in sight and there were certainly no expensive bikinis. There were only a couple of girls and a few surfers. No one paid any attention to him.
Sid spent a pleasant hour or so watching the surfers. He came to have tremendous respect for their courage and skill.
"What makes a man risk his life for nothing?" Sid muttered to himself. Finally it occurred to him that the idea of sport, in its purest form, was being presented in front of his eyes. To do something dangerous and intimidating, solely for fun and exhilaration, must be a wonderful experience.
When Sid left Waimea and started south, he saw a woman with a roadside stand. Sid stopped and saw that she was selling fresh coconut and pineapple. The lady was an American, aged fifty. She took a coconut from a big ice chest and used a machete to chop the top off. Then she stuck two straws in the opening and added several generous slices of pineapple. Sid found the fruit the tastiest he had ever eaten.
When the lady noted his appreciation she explained that fruit, when shipped to the mainland, had to ripen during transit, rather than on the tree. This affected its rich taste.
Sid spent a pleasant few moments chatting with the lady, whose name was Angela. She had been a professor at Harvard at one time but a vacation in the islands had stolen her drive and ambition.
Sid shook his head. "That doesn't sound totally like a good thing."
Angela laughed. "Perhaps not, but at least I have peace."
Sid drove away and wondered at the lady's words. He was familiar with the tales of the tropic's effect on people. A lassitude crept upon people and they lost their edge, their forcefulness. As he sipped his drink and ate chunks of the fruit, he thought he understood the phenomena a little better.
CHAPTER 5
Sidney Rice stood on the dock adjacent to the Battleship Missouri, which was anchored at Pearl Harbor. It was the most visited site in Hawaii and a lasting memorial to World War II. He felt overwhelmed with the history of the place as his guide led him on board.
The ship was crowded with tourists, both Japanese and American. School groups were prevalent and the merry laughter of the children seemed out of place on the grim vessel.
Sid had his picture taken as he stood beneath the massive forward guns that pointed toward the memorial of the U.S.S. Arizona which was destroyed on December 7th, 1941. His guide told him that the Arizona was an older vessel than most of those at the harbor that day and, as such, its decks were not armored. It had been easy prey for the Japanese Zeros.
Sid was fascinated. He had hired a knowledgeable guide who had some interesting stories. Wayne, the guide, pointed out the massive plugs in the guns that kept the rain out.
A short distance away in the harbor was what appeared to be an oil rig with a huge white golf ball mounted on it. In answer to Sid's query, Wayne gave a brief explanation.
"That's part of the Star Wars Missile Defense System. It was developed during Reagan's tenure. It was designed to be self propelled and was on its way to Alaska when it broke down. For the time being, it's stuck here at Pearl."
Sidney Rice nodded his head and continued the tour. He walked through the bridge, the officer's quarters and finally stood over a round brass plate sunk into the deck. Chills ran up his spine as he read the inscription.
'U.S.S Missouri'
"Over this spot, September 1945, the instrument of surrender of Japan to the Allied Powers was signed. Thus bringing to a close the Second World War. The ship at that time was at anchor in Tokyo Bay.'
Wayne described the ceremony. "I've read that the Japanese had their Samurai swords taken from them. Their copies of the documents were handed to them in canvas folders, rather than leather binders like the copies the allies received."
Sid felt overwhelmed by the moment. Even though he was not a sentimental man, the tears welled up and out of his eyes. The future of a planet had changed that day. It was an awesome feeling to stand on that spot.
As he reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes, Sid felt a hand on his left arm. Surprised, he turned to look, expecting to see Wayne. Instead, he saw a woman.
CHAPTER 6
Lyle Jackson was in his rented home in Barcelona, Spain, with Sheila Rice. He ran his hand possessively over her naked butt and she opened her eyes to look at her lover.
"Aren't you going to nap with me, baby?"
"Sure. I'm just enjoying the look and feel of you." He looked at her the way a miser looks at his gold. For that matter, Lyle looked at his bank book that way.
Though his company was bankrupt, Lyle had $20,000,000 in the bank. It was not from his now-defunct company. Instead it was a token of the Chinese government's appreciation for an important service.
"Lyle, what will they do with Sidney?"
Lyle gave the woman a tight smile that was meant to be reassuring.
"Oh, probably nothing," he lied. "Sid's got a spotless record so he'll just get a suspended sentence."
Sheila Rice had many faults but stupidity was not one of them.
"Bullshit! Espionage is serious business, Lyle. If I had known that you planned on framing Sid, I never would have agreed to it. He's a good guy, really."
Lyle's expression hardened, became sinister.
"Okay, I'll spell it out for you. If Sid ever gets out of jail he'll be too old to start over. In fact, he'd be better off if they executed him, which is a possibility. Treason can be punishable by death."
"Treason! Sid's a fucking boy scout!"
Lyle gave her a malicious grin.
"What you need to worry about, my dear Sheila, is what could happen to you if you piss me off."
CHAPTER 7
When Amy arrived at the U.S.S. Missouri's dock, she dismissed Anderson, much to that worthy's relief. She informed him that the surveillance on Sidney Rice was cancelled.
Lieutenant McNair drew a few looks as she strolled around the ship at a discreet distance from Sidney Rice. She was dressed in her dress whites. The uniform looked crisp and clean on her slim form. Amy failed to notice the male interest directed at her for the very good reason that she was watching Sidney.
When Sidney lingered over the brass plate she was touched to see the man wipe away a silent tear. Amy remembered well her first time here. It had been a moving experience. It was as though one stood at a historical crossroads where countless hallways branched off. The mind darted here and there until overwhelmed.