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Dele opened the door to the office. Mr. Phillips was seated like a demigod facing the door, his face hardened. Peter stood in a corner of the room. He looked like a fowl that had been beaten by the rain. It was clear that Mr. Phillips must have given him a tongue-lashing, no doubt about that. He clenched his fists when he sighted Ignatius.
“Great Ignatius Imodibo! Why did you have to do this to us? We had an agreement and you decided to default it by running my company aground. Do you know that we couldn’t do any work today? Do you know how much that has cost the company? I have a major contract as a consultant to the government worth millions of naira. We were seriously behind schedule and now you have almost killed it. We were meant to deliver a host of drawings tomorrow. I have been trying to get the minister to tell him that there may be a slight delay. Do you know what that means to my company, this country and to you? How do you think I get money to pay you if you sabotage my work like this? Now, get on that computer and undo what you have done.”
“And what if I don’t?” Ignatius pouted, defiant.
Mr. Phillips virtually reeled back in shock. Few people talked to him like that, fewer still of Ignatius’ age.
“What do you mean ‘what if you don’t’? Then you don’t get paid and I will have you arrested. Maybe you should spend one or two nights in jail and then you’ll come back to your senses.” Peter cringed in a corner in the office.
“Well, I don’t know the password to unlock it.”
Dele hissed.
“What do you mean you don’t know the password?” Mr. Phillips ranted.
“Well, the password changes every six hours. That was how it was set. I didn’t create that. My friend did. The program is such that it prompts the owners’ account balance through the internet. When the right amount of money is credited to that account, then it will open by itself. If not, then you will continue having the same problems and there is nothing you can do about it. If you send me to jail, your problem won’t be solved. My sister here just came from the village to tell me that my dear mother is sick and needs to be sent abroad for an operation. The only way to get over it is to pay up.”
“And how much is that?”
“The agreed sum, no more, no less.” Peter shook his head. This seemed like blackmail; but then again, this was the agreed sum.
“Why do you have to go through all this to get paid? Virtually close down my company, set this thing to your bank account: this is madness.” Mr. Phillips now sounded quite subdued.
“Well, this thing had been dragging for too long. I hated that and that made me lose any confidence in you. There are many people in this country who are highly skilled but are constantly being exploited by their employers. They pay them peanuts if they do pay at all so those who want and are able to - like Mark - leave the country. I don’t want to leave, at least not yet. This was simply to ensure that there would not be any postponements anymore. So I asked Mark to help me write the code for that.”
“We will pay in the cheque first thing tomorrow morning but I want you to sign an undertaking that nothing of the sort will repeat itself again. If not, I will see that you get thrown into jail for a long time.”
“I have no problem with that,” Ignatius assured. “There is one small thing. No one should try to copy the codes. The parts of the code that can’t be viewed will crash the system it is copied to.”
Peter winced. His game was up. Luckily, no one noticed.
Mr. Phillips brought out a sheet of paper and drafted a simple contract essential outlining all he had just said. Ignatius read through it and, satisfied, smiled. Cordelia smiled too. Mr. Phillips offered his hand. Ignatius grabbed it in a warm handshake. He couldn’t believe that it would end so easily.
“You are a very shrewd young man. So what do you intend to do with the money, if I may ask?”
“Well, I wanted to go back to school with it but now that my mother is ill, most of it will probably go into that. I will go see her first thing tomorrow morning. I will look around for other people who are interested in my baby and make some money for myself.”
Mr. Phillips nodded his head and smiled slightly.
“Although you didn’t mention it, I guess I’ll have to be under your custody till the program starts working well again?” Ignatius asked.
“Yes. I would rather you remain here. You can make yourself feel at home,” Mr. Phillips said.
“Its fine with me, I don’t even have a place to spend the night.”
After a while, Peter asked to take his leave. Mr. Phillips waved him off. Ignatius walked him to the door, a grin on his face.
“So you’ve managed to get your money from Mr. Phillips,” Peter whispered.
“Thank you for the advice. I couldn’t have done it without you, you know,” Ignatius replied.
“Oh, what I told you in the waiting room: always have cards left to play?”
“Yes.”
“Hope to see you around some other time.”
“The pleasure is mine.”
Ignatius smiled as he closed the door behind Peter but put on a serious face as he turned round.
The day was over.
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