Wednesday April 2, 2003:
Bad news: HR found out that I was responsible for that little stunt with VOX yesterday. From what I heard, Dr Rosenberg was able to trace the hack job back to my computer and squealed on me.
Gordon and I were hauled in front of Dr Vance and Dr Kleiner and made to explain ourselves. They weren’t angry, but their disappointment was worse, and I felt like such a bastard for letting them both down.
I took the rap for Gordon: told them the whole thing was my idea. He told me not to, that he’d go down for it, but I insisted. After all, he’s the whizkid who’s gonna win the Nobel prize some day. He’s gotta future here. I don’t. I’m just plain old Barney Calhoun.
Dr Vance told me that, under ordinary circumstances, this would be grounds for dismissal. But instead he managed to pull some strings and get me transferred. Wanna know where I’ll be working from now on? The worst detail in the whole facility: Waste Processing. Under the circumstances, I think I’d prefer to be fired.
What am I gonna tell Lauren? How’s she gonna react when I tell her she’s dating a glorified garbage man? Goddamn it.
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