Chapter One: No Entry
Max Bigge, CEO of Conftastic Inc. jammed his finger down hard on the intercom and shouted, ‘Gloria, get in here fast, it’s chaos in Birmingham, total chaos!’
‘Yes Mr. Bigge, on my way.’ Gloria Zapp, picked up her notebook and pencil and opened the mahogany door of Bigge’s executive suite on the twentieth floor looking out over the city.
‘Gloria,’ cried Bigge before she had time to sit down, ‘If I had any hair I would tear it out. We need help.’ Gloria said nothing, calmly sat down awaiting the explanation she knew would be coming shortly.
‘No one can get into MEXPO, none of the speakers, the delegates, the caterers, no one. Our software won’t print the barcodes for the delegate’s badges so it’s like Harrod’s on Christmas Eve outside the conference centre. The badge printers have all stalled.’
Conftastic Inc. was the country’s top conference organiser; an incident like this was potentially disastrous. ‘I may be able to help, Mr. Bigge’ said Gloria confidently.
‘Do it and I’ll double your salary! ’
Gloria picked up her mobile phone and typed in the words ‘Urgent job for IDentiman. G x’.
Some 30 minutes later Gloria silenced the frantic buzzing on the intercom.
‘Gloria, have we changed our window cleaning contract?’ roared Bigge, ‘because there’s someone in a blue onesie, wearing a cape and facemask hanging upside down outside my window and he doesn’t look like the usual guy.’
‘No Mr.Bigge’ his secretary replied, ‘If he has a big letter ‘I’ on his top that is IDentiman, a secretive but brilliant software specialist who devotes his life to solving companies’ technical and badging problems. I suggest you let him in.’
‘He’ll have to use the lift like everyone else,’ cried Bigge.
Moments later the lift doors slid open in front of Gloria’s desk and the muscular, caped figure of IDentiman burst into her office.
‘Morning ma’am, sorry about the intrusion, but you alerted me to your problem and I am here to help.’
Gloria explained the situation and IDentiman took over her keyboard, logged into the MEXPO onsite server and started punching a coded language into the machine.
Minutes later he turned and said, ‘Well that should solve your little problem. Everyone authorised, will be able to get in using this “fix”.’
‘It’s my high end badging software I call ComPic, that produces multiple badge sizes, on paper or plastic to which delegates can add their photograph and signature. It won’t let you down.’
The chunky watch on his left wrist started to glow. ‘Sorry ma’am, but this is another job for IDentiman, excuse me if I don’t use the lift but it’s not what super heroes do.’
With that he turned and disappeared down the emergency staircase.