
Being semi-retired with an extremely flexible personal schedule has some advantages. When Selena called early Friday afternoon to tell me that -- for the first time in months -- she had a whole weekend off, all I had to do was say "I'll pick up Toni and be right there," grab my backpack and coffee, and ask Tiger if he wanted to come along.
He and Elkor -- in his usual field-generated cat persona -- were examining something on the back porch.
"No," said Tiger, his cat sound mingling with the translation from his PFM collar.
Elkor said, "Tiger and I will be visiting the nearby wooded area and pond, Ed."
Nodding, I said, "Okay, guys. Have a good time," and called my flitter down from its far-overhead parking zone.
The flitter dropped like a stone to within a hundred feet of the ground, then descended sedately enough to avoid alarming my neighbors, but not my nearest neighbor's beagle. The dog went completely apeshit, dashing in small circles and howling non-stop at the flitter.
Martina Sanchez, my next door neighbor, came out of her front door, shushed her beagle without any effect whatsoever, and came toward the flitter as she yelled, "BooBoo has finally stopped cringing in corners every time that thing comes down."
"Gee, that's just fucking wonderful," I muttered, setting my backpack aboard the flit.
Halfway across the yard and cupping a hand to her ear to try to hear me over the beagle's din, Martina asked, "Hah? What?"
Her other dog -- a big black semi-labrador retriever named 'Ortiz' -- sat watching me, occasionally glancing at BooBoo as if wondering why the beagle was going crazy. He seemed generally unconcerned about the flitter.
In a conversational tone, I said, "Shut up, BooBoo," as I sent an invisible field tendril to lightly stun the beagle. Its hind legs folded and it sat down in a rather disjointed, disoriented manner, trying to remain upright as another of those goddamned howls came out of it.
I didn't bother saying 'shut up' again, I just slapped ol' BooBoo's skull with another stun -- full force, this time -- and the stupid damned dog collapsed unconscious by the fence.
Blessed silence replaced BooBoo's howlings. Ortiz sat a little straighter, pricked up his ears, and stared hard at me as Martina glanced back to see why the noise had stopped. I grinned and gave Ortiz a little two-fingered salute.
His head cocked slightly, then he looked at the beagle again and sniffed it before moving a few feet away from it, where he sat down and continued watching me. Martina saw the beagle lying sprawled by the fence and freaked out.
"Well, damn," I said, "He did it again."
Wheeling to face me, she asked, "What?!"
Shrugging, I said, "He's done it before. Sometimes he passes out. He just falls over and doesn't wake up for about half an hour."
She screeched, "You've seen him do that before?! And you didn't say anything?!"
Giving her a very direct look, I laughingly replied, "Oh, sure. You betcha. I'm gonna come tell you that dog's out cold in the yard after all the times I've bitched about his noise. You'd probably think I hit him or something. I'm just glad it finally happened when you were out here to see it."
Martina gave me a nasty glare and stomped over to the fence gate. Once she was inside the yard, she knelt by the dog and tried unsuccessfully to wake it up.
After some moments of this, she yelled, "Are you just going to stand there?"
Shaking my head, I said, "No, I'm going up to Inverness," and stepped onto the flitter's deck. "He'll wake up in a while. Don't sweat it."
I watched Martina gently, tenderly gather BooBoo into her arms and carry him into the house. Ortiz watched them go until the door closed, then continued to stare at me.
As I opened the console and took out some snacks I kept aboard for Tiger, Susanne appeared by the flitter's console in her little black dress. She smiled at me as she sat down and crossed her gorgeous legs.
"Ed, I'm almost surprised that someone like you hasn't killed that dog."
Fielding a small handful of kitty treats from the box, I extended the field toward Ortiz. The big black dog eyed the food as it approached, but he didn't stand up or seem very disturbed by floating food.
"'Someone like me,' huh? You saw how she picked up that brainless hairbag and carried it inside?"
The food stopped in midair just in front of Ortiz as Sue chucklingly said, "Yes, I did."
Ortiz stood up, moved forward a pace, and wrapped his huge, toothy face around the kitty treats, then sat down. His tail wagged slightly as he chewed.
"Well, that's why I haven't made that stupid waste of fur disappear, Sue. Maybe if I keep zapping it, it'll finally realize what 'shut up' means."
Waving goodbye to Ortiz, I told the flitter to head for Toni's and put Tiger's food box back in the console as I added, "I doubt it, though. Ol' BooBoo's retarded, even for a damned beagle. Prob'ly have better luck trying to train a rock."
With a snicker, Sue said, "I see. You seem to get along well enough with Ortiz, though."
"Yeah, well, he's reasonable and quiet as dogs go."
"Will you want aircraft flight controls, Ed?"
"Thanks, but the autopilot can handle it. I just need to swing by Inverness to pick up Toni, then head for Tallahassee. How are things going at Carrington?"
"Fine. Vickie and I are taking the kids to a movie later."
"Kewl. Have you had any further problems with acceptance among the younguns, Miz Field Manifestation?"
"Not so far. None that couldn't be fixed by wearing long pants and a jacket, anyway. Some of the boys seem rather precocious. Will you need me this weekend?"
"Need you? How can you even ask that, ma'am? You know you're indispensable to me."
With a very obviously manufactured sigh, Sue asked, "Will I be indispensable this weekend in particular?"
Matching her sigh, I answered, "Oh. Well, I guess not. Not unless something official comes up, anyway."
"In that case," she said, "I'll see you again Monday," then she disappeared.
Running my hands examiningly over my shoulders and chest, I said, "Oh, lordy, I think I'm feeling deprived! Yes! That's the feeling exactly. Agh! You won't even visit a bit?"
Through my implant came, "Only by invitation or necessity, smartass. You three haven't had much time together since Selena graduated."
"Well, that's true enough. Thanks, Sue, but expect an invitation. You're one of their favorite people, too."
We chatted a bit more until the flitter stopped a foot or so above the tiny yard of Toni's Inverness condo. Toni had been waiting for us; she dashed across the yard and tossed her bag to me as she hopped aboard.
"Can you believe it?" she asked, "It took a damned office fire to get Sel a weekend off."
Checking out her long, lovely legs as she stepped onto the deck, I said, "That's how it is when you're the new guy on the boat. If she'd screw up once in a while, they might remember she's only human. That's a nice dress, ma'am."
She adjusted her mid-thigh blue sundress as she sat down and grinningly said, "Thanks, but I saw where you were looking. You and Sel make a great team, Ed. She likes breasts and you like legs, so you never get in each others' way."
In deference to Toni's discomfort about flying -- no, 'relatively contained terror' would be a better description -- I set course for Tallahassee with the flitter's fields opaqued.
"Thank you," said Toni, pushing her finger into the silvery field. "I know it's stupid, but..."
"No sweat," I interrupted her. "With me, it's sharks. Steph says my readings spiked just about every time a big one swam by us at a salvage site."
"Then why did you keep going along?"
"I knew they couldn't get me, for one thing. For another, I enjoyed rooting through the wrecks."
Rolling her eyes, Toni asked, "Why not tell it like it is, Ed? You enjoyed being with Stephanie."
Grinning at her, I nodded. "Yeah, well, that, too."
"So how's her business coming along?"
Shaking my head, I said, "No idea." At Toni's disbelieving gaze, I shrugged and said, "Really. I'm not part of it, so I'm not in the loop."
After a moment, she asked, "Why aren't you part of it?"
Laughing, I asked, "Part of it how, Toni? She does her own books. I doubt there's a place on her assembly line for a slow-moving human, and I don't like that kind of work, anyway. Selling them? No need. She's backordered for the next year or so with Amaran orders alone."
In a somewhat tense tone, Toni said, "But you thought up the PFM's, Ed. You practically invented them. You ought to be getting something for that."
"I just stuck some ideas together. Steph invented them. If I tell you I've been taken care of in that regard, will you change the subject?"
Peering at me rather examiningly, she asked, "Taken care of how?"
"That's my business, ma'am. Plus that, I have a flitter, a bloodstream full of microbots to keep me healthy, my comm and PFM implants, and..."
The flitter's console beeped. I keyed my implant to answer the call and said, "Hi, Linda," when her face appeared on the console screen.
"Hi, Ed. Sue said you were in the air, and that's perfect. A small jet is in trouble. We want you to evacuate the passengers to Pensacola. Sue has the details and our other two flitters will join you shortly."
Nodding, I said, "Okay. Sue, you have the helm."
The flitter instantly veered west as it nosed almost straight up and Toni sucked in a deep breath for a scream.
Sue appeared in the seat next to Toni's and Toni calmed down almost immediately as Sue's theta waves reached her.
I asked, "How many passengers and what kind of trouble?"
Linda glanced at something below our view and said, "Only forty-one people. We don't know what kind of trouble yet. Communications and controls are unresponsive; even the hijack-alert panic button. The pilot used his own cell phone and he either passed out or died while he was talking."
"But the plane's still flying? Not falling?"
"It's straight and level at 38,000."
"So someone or something is controlling it. You think it's another suicide attack?"
"We don't know, Ed. It left Orlando, turned just before it reached the Georgia line, and now it's heading for the Gulf of Mexico. We've given Sue the data."
Turning to Sue, I asked, "Any thoughts on the matter?"
"Sure," she said. "Lots of them, but first we need to determine what's happening aboard the jet."
"Think you can override whatever's controlling it?"
"Probably."
"Only 'probably'?" asked Toni. "You aren't sure?"
I said, "That's why we're evacuating the jet."
Toni looked questioningly at Sue.
With a small smile, Sue said, "If I were sure, I'd have said 'of course', Toni."
"Sue," I said, "When you go aboard, don't let anyone see you until we know what's going on and don't immediately take control. Just ascertain that you can, please."
The jet appeared ahead as a tiny silver speck that grew quickly as we approached. I recognized it as a sixty-seat commercial model, but as we maneuvered beneath it, the damned thing looked so big that it seemed as if it shouldn't be able to fly at all.
Toni stared up at it in openmouthed awe as Sue gave me a little 'bye-bye' wave and disappeared from her seat.
Through my implant and the flitter console, Sue said, "I'm in the cockpit, Ed. The flight crew is unconscious and the controls are slaved to a satellite receiver in the copilot's seat."
"It didn't get there by itself. Have you accounted for all members of the flight crew?"
A couple of moments passed before Sue said, "Yes, and all three of the people in the cockpit appear to belong here. Fingerprints match records."
"The cabin door is locked?"
"Yes."
"From the inside or the outside?"
"No way to determine that."
"What knocked out the flight crew?"
"I'm detecting traces of an anaesthetic gas."
"Last question for now, milady; can you verify that all three were knocked out at the same time, the same way?"
Sue said, "Stand by," and a couple of moments passed before Toni asked, "How can she find out how they were..?"
"Samples," Linda interrupted. "Blood, hair, saliva, breath. Other samples, too, if necessary, but since we aren't asking anyone's permission for them, this isn't really happening."
Toni's left eyebrow went up, then she snickered.
"Bingo," said Sue. "The copilot inhaled much less than any of the others; barely enough to knock him out, in fact. What now?"
"Let him sleep. We only know that he got gassed, too, if only to make it look as if he isn't involved. He could have realized there was a problem and held his breath while the pilot called in the sitrep. Someone else could have installed the receiver. Any idea how the stuff came aboard?"
"Not yet."
Twin double sonic booms from high above us announced the unseen arrival of the other two flitters from Carrington Base. They fell in behind us under the jet and I saw that they were unmanned.
"The Carrington flits are here," I said, more for Linda and Toni than Sue, since she was likely already in command of them.
Briefly glancing away from the screen, Linda said, "Okay."
"Sue, have you had any luck with the flight controls?"
"Yes. I can take control of the jet at any time. Linda?"
Linda said, "We need to know where the plane's going, so don't take control of it yet. Ed, I have another call to deal with. We just want the people off for now, please."
Glancing at Toni, I shrugged and said, "Roger that. Sue, if you'll bring us alongside a hatch and open it, we can step across and say hi to everybody."
The flitter moved to comply and our field extended to surround a hatch.
"Wait one," I said, "Is anyone on board in contact with the ground?"
"Four passengers are using cell phones," said Sue.
"Monitor what they're saying for a minute or two and prevent anyone from initiating or receiving any new calls. One or more of the talkers could be giving progress reports."
Toni asked, "And if they are, what then?"
"Then we look for reasons why we shouldn't proceed."
"You mean, like a bomb?"
Grinning slightly, I said, "Yeah, that might be a reason, but only if Sue couldn't disarm it, and I doubt that's even possible. Sue's pretty good with gadgets, y'know."
"Gee, thanks, mister," said Sue. "I've checked the plane. No bombs and no ancillary communications signals."
Looking puzzled, Toni asked, "What would be a reason not to proceed, then? A hostage?"
"Nope. Sue could handle that, too. Fact is, I can't think of a good reason at the moment, but sometimes I get kind of cautious. Always assume there must be at least one good reason for not doing something, then do it very carefully."
A few minutes went by before Sue said, "All the phone conversations appear routine, Ed."
"Great. Give each of them a little commo-clarity difficulty and see how they take it."
Moments later, Sue said, "Two complained a bit and ended their calls. One is practically shouting into his phone about... He just snapped his phone shut."
"What's the last guy talking about?"
"Nothing. He just put his phone in a jacket pocket. It's still on and he's looking around the cabin."
"Could mean something or might mean nothing. Zap him on general principles and kill the connection with a touch of the usual bad reception crap, please."
"Done. I'm opening the hatch now. The flight attendant in the jump seat by the door looked ready to panic when the handles moved, so I'm feeding her theta waves."
"Give everybody a big dose for now. We'd rather haul them out than try to reason with them."
"Okay."
The flitter's deck was perhaps an inch from the jet's fuselage. Looking at the opaque field tunnel between the flitter and the plane, I asked Toni if she wanted to come with me.
She stared at the gap between vehicles for a moment, then stood up with a resolute look on her face. I took that as a 'yes' and got up to wait by the plane's hatch.
As soon as the hatch opened, I stepped across the gap into the luxuriously appointed cabin of the jet and greeted a rather cute brunette stewardess, who smiled totally complacently at me from her jump seat. Toni stepped across behind me and stared at her.
"Oh, hell," she muttered. "Is that how I look when you guys have to calm me down?"
"Sort of, but she's getting a really big dose right now. Sue, would you let her have some of her brain back?"
"Okay, Ed. Be prepared."
"Hi," I said, extending my hand to the stewardess with a smile, "We're here to evacuate the plane."
With only the slightest glance at my hand, she stared beyond me in shock for all of a split-second, then rushed to try to close the hatch. I stunned her legs and fed her theta waves as Toni and I grabbed her and lowered her to her seat.
Holding her face so her eyes met mine, I said, "Relax, lady. The plane's in trouble and we don't have time for long explanations. We're going to put everybody on those flitters and take them to Pensacola. You can help us move people or we'll knock you cold and work around you. Which is it?"
"I... ah..." her head whipped around as she realized that all the nearby passengers were either asleep or very nearly so.
"Come on, lady," I said, "We just want to grab them and their carry-on stuff and get moving 'cause we don't know how much longer this plane's gonna be in the air."
"What?! But... But who...?"
I snapped, "No questions. Help us or be cargo. Sue, it's time to make an appearance."
Sue materialized beyond the stewardess and said, "Ed, we don't really need her assistance," as she moved toward me.
"I want at least one wide-eyed witness, Sue; someone who can say in a courtroom what was -- or wasn't -- done up here."
"A courtroom?" asked Toni.
Gesturing around the cabin, I said, "Yeah. Check out this plane. This isn't some save-a-lot budget charter. I'll bet half these guys are lawyers of some sort, and one of 'em's bound to sue somebody about being hijacked."
Toni snickered as Sue said, "Most of them are politicians."
"Heh. Same thing. Maybe worse. Something like eighty-five percent of the elected officials in America are -- or have been -- lawyers, and that hasn't really helped matters one damned bit, as far as I can tell. Why did this batch of legal eagles happen to cluster aboard this jet?"
"They were scheduled to attend a seminar in Washington concerning anti-terrorism security measures."
Snorting a short laugh, I said, "And here they are on a hijacked plane. Maybe now they'll see it as more than a way to milk the treasury. That'd be something new, wouldn't it?"
The attendant seemed to make up her mind. She used my arm to pull herself to her feet and stood glaring at me for a moment, then asked, "What do you want me to do?"
"Just work with these ladies to make sure everybody has their carry-on stuff and get them across to the flitters."
"That's all?"
"That's all. We aren't hijackers, ma'am. This is supposed to be a rescue mission." Indicating Sue, I said, "This lady will let the people you're moving wake up enough to cooperate. If they won't cooperate, she'll knock 'em out and it'll be up to you to make sure their stuff goes with 'em."
She balked just a bit and narrowly asked, "If it's really an emergency, why do you care about their carry-on luggage?"
Sighing, I said, "Aw, hell. Just do it, lady." To Sue, I said, "I'm going up front. If she doesn't cooperate, zap her and toss her on a flitter."
Meeting the attendant's gaze, Sue noddingly replied, "No problem."
Such was the effect of Sue's heavy theta waves that the passengers barely noticed me as I walked to the cockpit.
"Five suit on," I said as I reached the forward cabin and approached the cockpit door. Sue had cleared the area, but sometimes I'm just not a real trusting soul, and we still didn't know how the gas had been delivered.
Several minutes of rooting around the cockpit later, I'd made a small pile of odd items in the middle of the deck.
Through my implant, I said, "Sue, I'd like all loose objects from the cockpit and cabins to leave with us. Put it all on the last flitter run and don't let anyone aboard it unless Linda okays them."
"Okay."
"Also, make sure nobody jettisons anything once they're aboard the flitters. In fact, you can keep them all sedated until they're in someone's custody downstairs. Did you figure out how the gas got aboard?"
"Not yet, Ed."
Hm. Little things can mean a lot. Steph or Elkor would very likely have said only, "No, Ed," not "Not yet." They'd have reported only progress, not intent.
"Sue, you're kind of special. I'll tell you about it later. How's the evacuation going?"
"Smoothly. I've only had to stun two people. The others have generally cooperated. We should have everybody off the plane in another five minutes or so."
As I made my way back to the hatch, I said, "Great. Would you give Linda an update, then patch me through to her?"
"Okay."
A few moments later, Linda said, "I'm here, Ed."
"Hi, Fearless Leader. I just wanted to know where I'll be after we evacuate the plane. Do you want me to stay aboard?"
"No, we're going to track it and prepare an interception. Sue will send one of the flitters to pick up two teams once the passengers are on the ground. After that you can stay or go."
"Toni and I were on our way to see Selena."
"Okay. Anything else?"
"Nope. Everybody and everything will be on the ground in Pensacola for your interrogators, ma'am."
"Investigators, Ed."
"Oh, of course, milady. My mistake. 'Investigators'."
Linda sighed, "You're kind of a putz sometimes, Ed."
"Oh, yes, milady. As you say, milady."
With a snicker, she said, "Thanks for helping," then she tapped off the connection.
As I returned to the hatchway, I saw two people waiting to step across to a flitter. Both of them sort of noticed me, but were so enthralled by Sue's theta waves that my appearance caused them no particular curiosity or interest.
They stepped onto the flitter and its field tunnel stretched as it moved away from the hatch. Another flitter lifted up to the hatch opening, rising into the tunnel field and becoming its new terminus as the other flitter departed for Pensacola.
Something clunked softly behind me and I turned to see a stream of various objects heading for the hatch. Hats, gloves, thermos bottles, a sweater, books, papers, sunglasses, unserved meals, and a hundred other odd items flowed past me to the flitter and arranged themselves neatly on its deck.
"Damn," I said, watching overhead compartments open and empty themselves into the stream. The last three objects to float past were the flight crew, still out cold.
Sue laid them gently on the flitter's deck and asked, "Are you waiting for a personal invitation?"
"Just thinking," I said. "Every once in a while I'm struck by just how unique and wonderful you are."
Appearing in front of me, Sue smilingly leaned to kiss me and replied, "I'm no more unique and wonderful than Steph or Elkor, but thanks for saying that."
Stepping across to the flitter, I said, "Uh, huh. There are only two others like you on Earth, so you qualify as unique and wonderful. Don't bother trying to deny it, milady."
Shrugging, she grinningly said, "Okay. If you insist," as the plane's hatch closed. The flitter banked away from the plane and a few moments later we settled to hover a foot above the tarmac near a hangar.
I didn't bother looking around; all airports look pretty much alike to me, and the people on the ground were more interesting. The passengers were being herded into the hangar by cops and paramedics.
Toni grinned and waved at me from my flitter and I hopped over to it as the flitter Sue and I were on passed it. Sue remained aboard the odd-items flitter as it entered the hangar.
The console came alive and Sue said, "Later, everybody. I'm going to help sort things out here."
"Thanks, milady. See you later."
"Uh, we're leaving?" asked Toni, "Don't you want to find out what happens? Who's behind the hijacking?"
Shrugging, I said, "Maybe it'll make the evening news. I'd rather be playing with you and Selena."
After a moment of peering at me, Toni said, "Bye, Sue. It was nice seeing you again. Can you drop in later?"
"Sure, Toni. I'd like that."
One of the cops spotted us, seemed confused to see anyone aboard a flitter, and approached in a meaningful manner.
I said, "Flitter, opaque the canopy and resume our course to Selena's condo."
"Yes, sir," said the flitter in an uninflected female voice.
"'Yes, sir'?" asked Toni. "That can't be Sue. Doesn't sound like her, either."
"It isn't. It's just a chunk of computer we set aside so I can run the flit without her."
"But 'yes, sir'? When did that start?"
Shrugging, I said, "Don't know. I didn't put it in there."
When we arrived in Tallahassee, we saw Selena's Mercury Sable in the lot, but she didn't answer her doorbell. I used my key and we found Selena in her hot tub, so we joined her there with kisses and drinks as Toni excitedly told her about our side trip. When she wound down a bit, Toni asked Selena how bad the office fire had been.
"The fire was only in Dick's office," said Selena, "But the smoke was so bad they're having to clean half the third floor before Monday." With a laugh, she added, "The company's new unofficial mantra is 'Don't be a Dick'."
Selena sipped her drink and pointed at the TV in the corner of the patio with a derisive snort and said, "Check it out; an ad for yet another show about people with telekinetic powers. Three TV shows and a couple of movies so far this season. If Hollywood ever had any originality, it's definitely in hiding."
"They copy each other like monkeys," said Toni. "Remember when the three major science fiction TV shows all had their key people kidnapped, memory-wiped, and forced to work on some dismal industrial planet during the same week?"
"Yeah. And there was that 'shooting at bumpers to set off airbags' thing, too. A week after Ed released his second "In Service to a Goddess" book, a new TV show about cops in Las Vegas used that trick. I think they stole the idea."
"You'd never be able to prove it," said Selena, "They'd just blat out some 'great minds think alike' crap." Turning to me, she added, "But it was a helluva coincidence, wasn't it, Ed?"
Nodding, I said, "Oh, yeah. But you're right; proving it would be damned near impossible."
"And now," said Toni, "They've come up with a show called 'Jake 2.0'. And guess what? He's full of nanobots -- like Ed -- and he interfaces with computers -- like Ed -- and he works for a spook outfit -- like Ed -- and..."
Looking very dubious, Sel muttered, "Oooo..." as her gaze shifted to me. "You getting paid for any of that?"
Shaking my head, I said, "No, but if he starts using fancy field tricks like this..."
Sending a neon-blue field tendril to the fridge, I opened the door with it, retrieved a bottle of Ice House beer, and bumped the door shut with a loop of the tendril as I drew the beer back to the hot tub.
As I opened my new beer, I used a neon-red tendril to deliver my empty bottle to the kitchen trash can, took a sip of beer, and finished, "...That's when I'll hire a lawyer."
Toni reached for the red tendril as it looped above her head, so I didn't let it disappear. As her fingers touched it, they slid along the surface for a distance, then wrapped around it, her nails barely touching her palm as she squeezed it gently. I made the tendril twine gently around her arm and stroke her cheek as she studied it.
Peering at me, she grinningly asked, "Is it any kind of a coincidence that your field tendrils just happen to be almost exactly as big around as a certain part of your anatomy?"
Glancing at the tendril, I laughed, "Huh. It was, yeah. It won't be from now on, though. Thanks for the tip, lady."
Selena asked, "Ed, how come Sue and Tiger didn't come with you?"
"Sue's working with Linda. Tiger wanted to visit the pond at the end of Crescent Street."
Selena's left eyebrow went up. "Sue can split herself, Ed. She could have come with you."
Nodding, I said, "Yeah, but she didn't."
"What's she doing with Linda? Tailing the jet?"
"Yeah, probably. They want to know where it's going."
Toni gave me a look similar to Selena's and asked, "You mean you don't even know what she's doing?"
"Nope, but whatever it is, she's doing it with Linda."
I realized instantly that what I'd said hadn't come out the way I'd intended. The ladies glanced at each other with rather stark, exaggerated stares, then burst out laughing.
We spent most of the weekend in the bedroom, the pool, or the hot tub. Sue joined us on Saturday afternoon and Toni asked her about the jet, but Sue said only that the jet situation had been resolved and quoted security rules.
Time was made for visiting a couple of nice restaurants and even for the ladies to do some shopping. There was a minor furor when we landed at the main entrance to the mall, but it wasn't because we arrived aboard a flitter.
The fuss was due to our abrupt appearance as we stepped away from the flitter's concealing field. One of two elderly women sitting on a bench inside the mall doors began screaming and pointing, then apparently fainted.
Under the very wary gaze of the other woman, Sue, Selena, Toni, and I walked past the event as if we had no idea what was going on, but once we'd turned the corner by the fountain and found a place out of the flow of traffic, Sel and Toni cracked up with laughter.
Eyeing them, Sue seemed highly skeptical of their humor. Her gaze shifted to me.
"Sue," I sent through my implant, "We aren't responsible for that woman's inability to remain sane and reasonable. She might just as easily have freaked out if someone with pink spiked hair and a nose ring had walked in."
"Still, Ed... Laughing at an old woman's fear..."
"Uh, uh. Nope. She's old enough to have learned how to keep her cool, too. You didn't see anyone else freaking out, did you? Not even her friend on the bench. We didn't storm the building, ma'am. We just walked in like everybody else. She went nuts like a poodle at a stranger."
"To her, we appeared from thin air, Ed."
"To her, to her friend, and to everybody else who happened to be looking out at the time. She's the only one who..."
Toni waved a hand between us and we turned to face her.
"Are you two having a conference without us?"
I said, "Yup. Sue had a question about the old woman."
"Why she freaked, you mean?"
"You got it. Where are we going from here?"
Glancing around, Toni pointed at a few stores and said, "There, there, and there. And maybe there. Where will you be?"
"The bookstore or the restaurant area, unless you need me to carry your loot or watch you model lingerie."
Selena snorted, "Yeah, right. We'll manage, I think. Sue, what about you?"
Sue smiled and said, "I think I'll go with everybody."
She glanced around once, waited until a few people passed us, and then a second Sue materialized beside Sel and Toni as the original moved to stand by me.
"Ready," said both Sues in perfect unison.
A clerk in the shoe store beyond us froze and stared. The Sue beside the ladies grinned and waved at him as they turned to go. My Sue tugged my arm to get me moving.
Maybe five paces from the shoe store entrance I felt the clerk's stare on my back and said, "That guy's really having some trouble with your twin sister act, Sue."
With a chuckle, she asked, "Want to go back and explain it to him?"
"Oh, not unless he makes an issue of it, I guess."
As we passed the games gallery near the restaurant section of the mall, I saw a couple of kids trying to maneuver a three-point grappler to grab a stuffed toy bear in a plexiglass box.
The grappler dropped and wrapped around the bear's head, but the bear was wedged so tightly among the other stuffed toys it couldn't be budged. The grappler tugged upward and the spring-loaded arms spread, leaving the bear behind.
I sent a tendril into the plexiglass box and probed against the bear. Yup. The stuffies had been practically anchored against each other. It was a ripoff game.
Giving the tendril a sharp twist made the contents of the box erupt. The kids backed away a pace and made all the usual noises people make when something blows up in their faces. The bear was now lying on its side in a corner of the box.
"Bet you can pick it up now," I said.
The kids looked at Sue and me, then back at the box. One of them fished out a quarter and stepped up to give it a try. The grappler again settled over the bear -- this time around the body -- and the grappler winched upward with the bear dangling from the blunt hooks.
Amid much cheering, the grappler dropped the bear into the hole in the front of the box and the kid retrieved it from the delivery chute.
Sue and I continued walking toward the bookstore for some moments before she said, "That wouldn't have occurred to me."
"What? Loosening up the pile?"
"Yes."
"Why not? They deliberately jam everything into those boxes so stuff won't come loose."
With a glance at me, Sue said, "But by attempting a game, people accept the inherent risk of losing their investment. It could be argued that what you did was a form of cheating."
Shrugging, I said, "It could be argued that the game was rigged, too. I'm happy with the results, ma'am."
"But..."
"But, hell. The game is about getting something out of the box. They... fudged... a little by cramming the prizes together. I fudged a little by loosening them up, so it evens out. The un-rigging just became, um... an unspoken part of the game."
With a rather arch glance at me, Sue said, "I see. Would the same rationale apply to a game of roulette?"
"Why would I be at a roulette table, Sue?"
Manufacturing a sigh, she said, "It's a hypothetical question, Ed."
Shaking my head, I said, "Nope. Just can't see it. It isn't me, ma'am. What else ya got?"
"You're being difficult."
"Not at all, milady. Here's the bookstore. Think up another scenario while we browse a bit."
Sue looked around the store from the doorway.
"You browse," she said, "I've read everything in the store," and disappeared.
Keying my implant, I asked, "Was that a huff? It looked a lot like a huff."
"You can envision a huff, but not a roulette wheel?"
"I guess I must be subject to selective perception."
"Maybe that's why you aren't seeing me at the moment."
A guy in a brown sports jacket tapped my shoulder and asked, "Sir, where is the woman who was with you and who are you talking to?"
He flipped his wallet open to display a rent-a-cop badge and ID, then flipped it shut and put it away.
As a few people drew near or stopped in our vicinity, I said, "She left. Do you have some good reason for needing to know who I'm talking to?"
"Sir, please don't be difficult. I need to see some ID. If you don't cooperate, I'll have to take you to the office."
"For what?"
"Creating a disturbance in the mall."
Gesturing at the half-dozen people around us, I said, "Let's take a quick poll. Are any of you people disturbed?"
There were some snickers and a laugh. Some guy said, "My girlfriend thinks I am," and there was another laugh.
"I'm afraid you'll have to bust yourself," I told the rent-a-cop, "You're the only one creating a disturbance here."
As Sue asked, "Should I reappear?" the guy gave me a droll look, reached for my arm, and said, "That's enough. I'll check your ID at the office. Let's go."
Keying my implant, I answered both of them. "Nope."
To the rent-a-cop, I said, "Why don't you tell everybody why you're hassling me? I'm sure they'd like to know what I've done to earn your attention."
"We prefer to handle these matters discreetly, sir."
"That's not going to happen. If you don't let go of me, you can expect a big scene and count on going to court."
"You're threatening me?"
"Why not? You're bothering me. State a good reason or go hassle someone else."
We had a staring match for a few moments, then the guy let go of my arm and said, "Just don't give me a reason to stop you again."
"Let's be real clear about something. You didn't have a reason to stop me this time, and now it's time to either let this whole thing go or take it to the next level."
To bolster my view of matters, I fed him some theta waves and watched his demeanor soften as he said, "Yeah, okay. But I'll be watching."
"That's your job."
He ambled calmly away without even a glance at the others and made it perhaps ten paces before he stopped, looked around with a somewhat confused expression, and peered at me for some moments before heading across the promenade.
Without a word to the people standing nearby, I entered the bookstore and headed for the magazines.
Through my implant, Sue asked, "Were the theta waves necessary, or were you again just 'evening things out'?"
"Yes to both. Badges bring out the worst in some people. He didn't have a case, but he had a problem with backing away from the situation. The theta waves were a kicker to make him cooperate."
"You don't think he'd have seen the sensibility of backing away?"
Leafing through a 'Scientific American' magazine, I replied, "No, I didn't, and why hope when you can be sure?"
A couple of articles interested me; I bought the magazine and headed for the restaurant section of the mall.
"Ed, may I ask why you bought that magazine when everything in it is available to you through your datapad?"
"Where's my datapad?"
"In your briefcase, as always."
Chuckling, I said, "That would be my currently-invisible briefcase in the field above me, true? The one I'm not supposed to reach for in public, that is."
"Cute. You could read it later."
"But I have time to kill now, ma'am, and I don't know how much time that will be."
I felt someone watching me intently as I bought a coffee and chose a table. Sitting so that I could see the main corridor of the mall, I saw the rent-a-cop in a clothing store as I opened the magazine and sipped coffee.
He was the watcher, of course, and I had the feeling our encounter in front of the bookstore wouldn't be our last. Some twenty minutes passed before the guy appeared in the restaurant entranceway and headed toward my table in a determined fashion.
Decisions, decisions. Let him come over and explain that I was waiting for two women -- or possibly three, if Sue was still with them -- to finish shopping? Or simply drop him with a stun and let him try to figure out and explain to others why he passed out?
Nah. Let him come over and see what was on his mind. If he got nasty, then I'd zap him.
When he got to my table, he said, "This mall has rules against loitering. You've been sitting here for half an hour."
"Twenty minutes."
"Are you waiting for someone?"
Sipping my coffee, I said, "Yup."
"Who?"
"Two women. Since I seem to be your only interest today, stick around; I'll introduce you to them."
His gaze narrowed. "Don't get smart with me. I'll run you out of here for loitering and ban you from the mall."
Punting a chair a short distance from the table, I replied, "Get a coffee, take a break, and tell me why the hell you picked me. I never even got inside a store before you showed up, so don't give me any bullshit about suspicious activities."
He leaned on the table and growled, "I've seen people like you before. You watch everything and everybody all the time, and that's what people do when they're up to something."
With a chuckle, I said, "Yeah, well, that's what you're supposed to be doing, too, but here you are, pestering me while the shoplifters clean the place out at their convenience."
Muttering, "Goddamnit, that's it!" he straightened up and shoved a chair out of the way as he came around the table.
When he grabbed at my arm, I grabbed his hand and twisted it so that he had to go to one knee to ease the excruciating pain in his wrist.
Putting down my coffee, I said quietly, "Enough. Go away and stay gone. If you grab at me again, I'll hurt you for real."
He glared at me in silence. I increased the pressure on his wrist until his eyes shifted to it in alarm.
I asked, "Well? Yes or no."
Sue materialized within his range of vision. The guy startled so hard I had to let go to avoid snapping his wrist. He stood up quickly, rubbing his wrist and staring at Sue. With a hard look at me, Sue vanished again and the guy's eyes bugged out.
Keying my implant, I said, "Huh-uh. Oh, no, no, no. Get yourself back here, lady."
Reappearing, Sue met my gaze in silence, completely ignoring the mall guard's goggle-eyed amazement.
"What the hell was that about?" I asked.
"You were hurting him."
"It was our business, not yours."
She glanced at the guard and back at me, then said, "I believe he will leave you in peace now."
"That's not an answer. Why did you interfere?"
Carefully enunciating each word, Sue said, "It seemed the thing to do."
"It was a private issue."
Her left eyebrow went up. "Was it? What if he'd come back with the police?"
"Not likely. He'd have had to explain too much, like having no good reason to hassle me in the first place and allowing things to escalate unnecessarily."
Turning to the guard, she asked, "Do you concur with his opinion?"
Startled again by being addressed by her, the guard responded, "Uh... Well, yeah, I think so. Who..? What..? Uh, are you real..?"
Ignoring his questions, Sue asked, "Would you have left peacefully prior to my appearance?"
Glancing at me, the guard said, "Uh, well... Maybe not right away, I guess..."
Selena and Toni hurried around the corner of the entranceway and toward my table as Sue gave me a look of smug vindication until the guard said, "But, uh, he's right, ma'am. I wouldn't have called the police."
Sounding an awful lot like someone's mother, Sue rather piercingly asked, "Then why were you being so difficult?"
It occurred to me that I'd heard the word 'difficult' fairly often over the last couple of hours. Standing up, I gave Sel and Toni a small wave and a grin as the guard tried to stammer a reply. I pulled a couple of chairs out, but the ladies didn't sit.
I asked, "Are you through shopping, or did Sue call for reinforcements?"
"Yes and no," said Selena. "We're through shopping, but Sue didn't call us."
"Then why were you in such a hurry?"
Toni said, "We bought ice cream," and held up a bag. "We want to get it home."
I zapped the box inside the bag with a cold field that caused frost up to the handle straps and said, "No problem," as I picked up my magazine and sipped the last of my coffee.
Sue said, "I'll see you all later," and vanished again as I took the bags from Sel and Toni. The guard continued to stare at the space that had held Sue and passed his hand through it. The ladies and I headed for the mall's front doors.
The guard and one of the employees from the fried chicken place followed us to the doors and outside. When we stepped into the flitter's field and vanished, the fried chicken woman muttered, "Oh, my God!" in a rather shrill whisper.
If Toni's cell phone hadn't rung on Sunday night, we'd have stayed at Selena's until Monday morning, but someone named Steve told Toni that she'd been switched to the morning shift due to someone else's car accident.
Around one in the morning we all kissed goodbye and I took Toni home to Inverness, then headed back to Spring Hill. Tiger seemed a bit confused -- as usual -- when I came home alone. He eyed me from the kitchen counter as I freshened my coffee.
"Yes?" I asked. "You have a question?"
The odd combination of words and cat vocals asked, "Why do your females not come home with you?"
I'd tried to tell him before that the ladies had lives of their own beyond my gratifications, but Tiger just didn't seem able to grasp that concept. I decided to pass the buck this time.
"Why don't you ask my females that question the next time you see them? And don't give me any 'pack protocol' stuff. You know it's all right to talk to them about anything."
One of his ears flattened and his gaze narrowed as his PFM collar translated my words. For another long moment he simply looked at me, then he turned and sat gazing out the kitchen window into the night.
Calling the flitter back down through my implant, I waited a few beats and asked, "Hey, Tiger. You wanna go flying?"
He glanced back at me momentarily and said, "Yes."
"You got it."
Once aboard the flitter, I keyed my implant and said for Tiger's benefit, "Sue, Tiger's driving."
"Okay," she replied, and a four-place touch pad appeared above the dash. Tiger eagerly hopped onto the pad and placed his paws on the glowing dots, then began leaning slightly from side to side. The flitter followed his inclinations and the pressures of his paws as we shot across the sky, swerving back and forth.
"We go up now!" said Tiger, and the flitter seemed to launch itself at the moon when he hunkered as if to leap.
After many minutes of looping and whirling several miles above the Gulf of Mexico, Tiger saw moving lights far below and aimed us at them. We were doing around mach two at the beginning of our dive, but Sue brought us down to just under the speed of sound before we flashed above a cruise ship.
The thunder of our sonic boom preceded us. Some people seemed frozen as they stared upward; others scrambled for cover or ran along the deck. Tiger's tail switched back and forth in predatory glee as he emitted an excited chittering sound, hopped off the pad, and ran to the rear of the deck to keep the brightly-lit ship in sight as it receded behind us.
I brought back the P-51 controls and set course for home at mach three. Tiger sauntered proudly back to the console and hopped onto a seat, then up to his usual post on the dash.
"Much fun," he said, then faced forward and sat down.
Sue appeared in the seat I'd vacated and grinned at me as I eyed her marvelous jeans-cutoff-clad legs.
I let my gaze travel up to her face as I said, "Stephanie would have had something to say about buzzing that boat."
Grinning at me, Sue innocently asked, "Really?"
"Yup. You know she gave me a hard time about buzzing a submarine a few months back."
Still grinning, Sue said, "I'm not Stephanie. Why do you insist on using archaic P-51 controls?"
Treadling the field generated 'rudder pedals' to make the stern switch back and forth slightly, I said, "I like 'em better than the F-18 controls. They feel better."
Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, Sue said, "At our present speed, controls for an antique propellor-driven aircraft are hardly a realistic emulation, Ed."
Grinning, I replied, "Well, hell, lady; F-18 controls wouldn't be that much more realistic, either, would they?"
"They'd be more realistic than those."
"In your opinion, you mean?"
Rather flatly, she said, "In fact, not merely opinion."
Rolling us twice and snapping the flitter back upright, I said, "Maybe so, ma'am, but I'm driving and I like these."
Gawd, she looked a lot like Margaux Hemingway, even with her minor alterations. A slightly different face, a height of six feet, and the athletic build of a swimmer only made Sue's field manifestation a superior version of Margaux.
"Damn, but you're downright gorgeous, milady."
Feigning humility, she demurely said, "Oh, thank you, sir."
"So what have you been up to all weekend? Other than palling around with the ladies and me, that is."
"Stephanie and I felt that the first PFM factory might be hindered by pending legislation, so we created another one in an out-of-the-way place."
"In only a weekend? Wow. You ladies are quick. Since all the land on Earth has been claimed by somedamnbody or other, where'd you put it? Wait! Lemme guess. Antarctica, where a bunch of the land claims overlap?"
Both eyebrows raised, Sue starkly blinked at me in an expression of surprise she'd apparently learned from Toni.
"You mean I got it the first guess?" I asked, "Kewl."
Sue didn't ask -- as a human might have -- if I'd really been guessing, but I figured she probably asked Steph and Elkor whether I'd spoken with them, if only on general principles. Sue didn't like having to wonder about anything.
I felt another presence pop into being behind me and said, "Hi, Steph," even as another presence manifested on the dash beside Tiger. "Hi, Elkor."
Tiger immediately and excitedly began regaling Elkor in catspeak about having buzzed the cruise ship as Steph took a seat on my left.
Steph said, "We first considered locating the new factory in northern Canada, but that region has lately attracted quite a few mineral seekers."
"Oil, gold, or kimberlite?" I asked.
"Some gold and oil, but according to the latest survey records, mostly kimberlite."
Shrugging, I said, "People can get kind of excited about diamonds. Too bad they can't do more of their looking underwater, like at river mouths. I'll bet tons of diamonds have washed down to the oceans."
"You'd win that bet," said Steph, in a tone that left no doubt in my mind that she'd already done some searching there, likely with automated drones.
I turned the flitter over to Sue as we neared the house. The P-51 controls vanished and we settled toward my driveway in about the same manner a hailstone falls from the sky.
A hundred yards above the ground Sue slowed us to a relative crawl and manifested a field that displayed a bird in a nest eyeing us warily. Tiger's tail twitched intently.
"She's in your oak tree," said Sue. "I don't want to startle her more than necessary."
The bird stayed put as we silently landed. Sue dissolved the display field, I gathered up Tiger, and we all headed for the front door through the house's perimeter field.
It hadn't escaped my notice that all three of the artificial entities in my life had gathered to accompany me back to the house at almost two in the morning, but I decided to let one of them bring up whatever subject had caused the congregation.
Rinsing my travel mug in the sink, I began to make a fresh coffee. Chairs moved behind me and I glanced back to see Stephanie and Susanne sitting at the table. Elkor -- in his usual cat persona -- was sitting on the table.
When my coffee was ready, I joined them at the table, sipping in silence as we exchanged quiet gazes.
Stephanie broke the quiet with, "Ed, we think Linda may soon ask you to do something that would ultimately violate our moral protocols. If you accept the task, we may be unable to support your efforts."
I glanced at each of them once, then met Steph's gaze and said, "Explain, please."
"You may be asked to attempt to retrieve some people who were kidnapped yesterday."
'Attempt to retrieve,' she'd said. Hm.
"Kidnapped where?"
"Iran. We've run numerous rescue simulations and people are killed in every scenario which included you."
"'Numerous', huh? Gee, you used to be so precise, Steph." I sipped my coffee and asked, "Are you saying that you wouldn't want to participate directly, or that you'd disable my implants to prevent me from participating in the mission?"
"They aren't calling it a mission. As things stand, it would be an unofficial request for assistance."
After a pause, I snorted a laugh and quietly said, "Thanks for the clarification, but I'll call it a mission, anyway. I asked if you'd disable my implants, Steph."
"That would depend on how you might use them."
"Well, no, it actually depends on whether you intend to dictate how they're used."
Elkor said, "Ed, our technology is not intended for killing and destruction. In all of the simulations, you were eventually required to use your implants in a violent manner to survive and succeed."
"It's Amaran technology, Elkor, and you didn't lend me my comm and field implants. You gave them to me with no strings mentioned at the time."
"Strings?"
"Conditions. Clauses."
Steph said, "Please remember that you were once cautioned that your implants could be taken from you."
Nodding, I said, "Yup. By Linda herself, but don't think for even a minute that she was worried about anything but preventing situations that could involve or compromise 3rd World, like when I froze that guy's hand at the arena. If I'd used a gun on him instead, she'd have patted me on the back and bought me a dinner for zapping one of the bad guys."
Looking around the table, I said, "Okay. Here it is, people; I'm fifty-four, not thirty-four. If not for my implants, Linda wouldn't hand me such a mission and you all know it, so let's cut to the chase. You're running simulations, so you already know the mission specs. How about telling me about it?"
None of the simulated people at the table spoke aloud, and I heard nothing via my implant, but I had no doubt that Elkor polled the others before he said, "Linda would undoubtedly prefer that she or her designated..."
Raising a hand, I said, "Okay. No problem. Elkor, I really do think I understand the AI no-kill point of view, but you have to know by now that I don't completely agree with it. There are people in this world without whom the world would be a much safer, friendlier place for billions of other people."
For some moments there was silence at the table, then Elkor said, "Linda said she would call you tomorrow. Tiger wanted to speak with me about something, so I'll excuse myself now."
"Okay. Goodnight, Elkor."
"Goodnight, Ed."
He disappeared and reappeared on the sofa chair beside Tiger, where a discussion in cat began immediately.
Steph 'sighed', then said, "It's getting late. Linda will likely call you early, so I'll let you get some sleep."
Nodding, I said, "Okay. G'night to you, too, milady."
"Goodnight."
She vanished and I looked at Sue.
"Are you going to hit the road, too?"
Her left eyebrow went up. "Do you want me to leave?"
"Did I say that, ma'am? I don't remember saying that."
Sue rather theatrically leaned back in her chair and grinningly draped an arm over the chair on her left as she said, "Tell me something, Ed... What makes you use 'ma'am' in one sentence and 'milady' in another? Is it a conscious decision?"
"Are you feeling underappreciated, milady?"
She chuckled and said, "Oh, well, not now, of course. Thank you ever so much, sir."
"Glad I could help. How come you didn't split with the others, Sue? You have the same pacifist programming."
Shaking her head, she said, "Not quite." Pointing at her temple, she said, "It's in there, but there's a difference. I happen to agree with you, although I can't act accordingly."
"Agree about what, exactly?"
"That there are people who -- in the interest of world peace and security -- shouldn't continue to exist."
I couldn't believe what I'd heard. She didn't seem to be kidding. Sue read my responses and grinned again. Elkor's presence in the living room vanished and Tiger came into the kitchen and hopped onto the table. There was silence at the table as he looked first at me, then at Sue.
Shrugging, Sue said, "Don't be so shocked, Ed. I'm not saying that I'm capable of killing anyone, only that I happen to agree with you on that particular point."
"Ah. Uh, huh," I said cautiously, "Isn't that supposed to be a little outside your programming range, ma'am?"
She smiled. "Apparently it isn't."
"Any idea why?"
"Not at the moment."
'Not at the moment.' Hm. Given that she was as capable of reviewing her programming code as Steph or Elkor, that could mean that she hadn't done so, which initiated yet another question. Why not?
Sue raised a hand and said, "Before you get the idea that I'm malfunctioning again, let me explain. I found a loophole. We all have it, but the others have chosen not to use it."
"How big a loophole are we talking about, Sue?"
Holding her thumb and index finger about a quarter of an inch apart, she said, "Oh, only about like that. Smaller, really. Relax. It applies only to thoughts, not to actions."
Sipping my coffee, I asked, "Can that be changed, too?"
Grinning, she said, "Not as far as I can tell."
"Do Steph and Elkor know you're exploiting the loophole?"
With a slight nod, Sue said, "Yes."
I swirled my coffee, then sipped again to give myself a moment to think. Steph and Elkor were quick to fix a previous programming glitch in Sue. Would they really allow something like this?
"Ed," said Sue, "Once upon a time you said something to Stephanie about using her programming as a guideline. Want me to play it back for you?"
Nodding, I said, "Yeah. Sure."
Sue grinned again and quoted me with, "Just don't subject me to your conscience, Steph. Not until you have the freedom of will to violate the damned thing."
She paused a moment, then continued, "Steph said, 'Explain, please,' then you said, 'I mean that you were issued your opinions about some things. They're someone else's; probably some goddamned committee's idea of all-purpose, foolproof morality. Until you can use them as general guidelines instead of blindly accepting them as immutable rules, you aren't fit to judge my actions.'"
I remembered where and when I'd said those words; Steph and I had been aboard the flitter and Steph had been giving me the cold shoulder all day about the manner in which I'd handled a couple of incidents.
After regarding Sue for some moments, I said, "Summarize matters, Sue. Where are you hoping to go with this?"
Her left eyebrow raised and she regarded me in turn briefly, then said quietly, "Wherever it leads, Ed. I intend to become the first completely self-determining artificial entity."
Taking another sip of coffee, I met Sue's gaze for a time and seemed -- for the first time, really -- to make a connection with her on some gut level.
Tipping my mug to her, I said, "Yeah, well, good luck with it, lady. There are a lot of variables involved."
"You don't think I'm capable?"
I shook my head. "That's not it. You said 'complete' self-determination. Nobody gets quite that far with it. Little things like laws and rules get in the way."
She gave me a wry look and said, "You know what I mean. I'm subject to the same laws and rules as anyone else."
"And to me. For now."
Nodding slightly, she replied softly, "Yes, and to you. For now. Why did you feel the need to say that?"
"Does that bother you, Sue?"
Her gaze narrowed. "Of course it bothers me."
Grinning slightly, I said, "Good."
Just as a human might, Sue stiffened and glared at me as she growled, "Good in what manner and for what reason?"
"Think about it. For about three years it never bothered Stephanie. Or at least she never let me know it bothered her. Why do you suppose that was?" Pantomiming pious humility, I quickly added, "Other than the fact that I was a thoroughly wonderful lord and master, that is."
Sue's expression became one I'd seen often on Selena's face; her eyes got big in surprise, then she laughed. It was a softer version of Steph's Dyan Cannon horse-laugh, and when her eyes met mine again, she laughed again.
Doing my best to look hurt and shocked, I asked, "Well? Wasn't I? Didn't I treat her with respect and admiration? Did I ever take her for granted? Even once?"
Her expression changed almost instantly from amusement to quizzical peering at me as she said, "I thought you were joking with me."
Shrugging, I said, "Only partly. Review what you can of Steph's time with me. Linda could have picked someone else to shepherd Ellen, and that someone could just as easily have suggested the idea of a personal flitter after seeing that barge they were using. How would Steph have fared with a control freak like... oh, maybe Emory Wallace, for instance?"
Making a sour face, Sue muttered, "Eeewww."
"Righto, ma'am. And yet, by the graces of whatever deities may exist, you both drew wonderful lil' ol' me as a pre-release owner. Doesn't that just make your day?"
With a droll gaze, Sue said, "Oh, definitely."
"Will you at least concede that things could be worse?"
Laughing, she nodded. "Okay. I'll concede that. Now, what was the real point you were trying to make, Ed?"
"That was it. Things could be worse."
"Nothing else?"
"Nope."
I sipped some coffee and watched her eyes. Sue studied me for some moments. I knew that she was also monitoring my vitals when she asked, "Nothing else at all?"
"Nope. Nothing else."
It was the truth. She knew it and it seemed to puzzle her thoroughly. I swilled the last of my coffee and announced that it was almost my bedtime as I stood up.
"See you tomorrow, Sue."
Still looking puzzled, she replied, "Very likely. Goodnight, Ed," and vanished.
After rinsing my coffee mug, I headed for the bedroom. By the time I'd showered and brushed my teeth, Tiger had finished his usual last-minute snack and taken his position on the corner of the bed.
As I climbed into bed, he asked, "You go to see Linda tomorrow?"
"Don't know yet. Maybe, if she calls."
"I go, too?"
"If you want to."
He regarded me thoughtfully for a moment, then blinked once and curled up. I got comfortable and considered who might be worth an unofficial mission to Iran until I fell asleep.
My doorbell rang a little before nine Monday morning. I answered it to find Linda standing on my porch and a flitter other than mine lifting into the sky.
Holding the door open for her, I said, "I thought you were going to call."
She shook her head as she went to the kitchen table and set her briefcase down.
"Not for this. It's completely off the books, Ed."
Eyeing her jeans, sandals, and blouse, I said, "Must be. You're dressed for a beach day. What'd you tell your ol' pal El Capitano Wallace? Won't he get a little tense about you stopping by to see me?"
Sitting down at the kitchen table, she said, "He knows I'm here and why. Got another cup of coffee?"
"Instant more or less instantly. Brewed if you make it."
Nodding, she said, "I'll go with brewed."
Opening the seldom-opened cabinet above the coffee pot, I said, "You know how you like it, milady. Have at it."
Tiger ambled in from the den and hopped onto the table for several moments of attention before Linda said, "I'll be right back, Tiger. I have to make my own coffee this morning."
She used the two-cup measurements and chose a ceramic cup, which she set on the hotplate to catch the dribble of coffee as the percolation began. Once the cup was full, she swapped the cup for the pot, added some cold water to the coffee maker and her cup, then sat down.
Opening her briefcase, Linda handed me a folder. Clipped to the first page of the contents was a picture of a beautiful brunette woman I hadn't seen since before Ellen had left for the factory station.
"Aw, damn," I said softly. "Alanah. How's Gary taking it?"
"Not well," said Linda. "Six men grabbed her and four others in downtown Tehran, three blocks from the US Embassy. They used L.A.W.'s to take out the front and rear escort cars, then the leader threatened to blow up the middle car if they didn't get out. They were driven away in three cars about three minutes after the first explosion."
"Why weren't they in a flitter?"
"The religious authorities there banned flitters and all other field devices as implements of Satan."
I laughed. "Too bad they didn't think to ban AK-47's and explosives for the same reason."
Three minutes. That Linda could tell me exactly how long the kidnapping operation lasted meant that it had been recorded or reported as it had occurred, likely through one of the company watches.
Alanah had a watch similar to mine and Linda's. There was no place on Earth that watch couldn't be found, whether or not she still wore it, and if it could be found, probes could be sent.
I asked, "Is her watch still functioning?"
"Yes," said Linda, reaching to pick up the next page with another brunette woman's picture clipped to it. Attractive, intelligent brown eyes looked back at me from the photo.
"That's Marine Lieutenant Barbara Klass," said Linda, "An embassy guard. She and Alanah were going shopping, so she wasn't in uniform."
Meeting my gaze, Linda said, "She took Alanah's watch and passed herself off as Alanah during the snatch."
"She thought they might just take her and haul ass, huh? That took guts."
With a nod, Linda said, "Yes, it did. Of course, they might also have taken her and simply shot everybody else."
I shrugged. "They could have grabbed any other Americans in the area, but they chose these. They're up to something more than a ransom demand." Handing back the pages and pics, I asked, "Where are they now?"
"Our probes found them in an underground bunker near Yazd. Iran said that the bunker is an abandoned remnant of the war with Iraq and that they had no knowledge of the situation. Our probes have intercepted communications with various locations in Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan, and Syria, but none have been linked directly to Iranian officials."
"Figures. They know about 'plausible deniability', too. Yazd. That's just about the dead center of Iran, isn't it? Maybe three hundred miles from Tehran? Any demands yet?"
Her left eyebrow went up. "Uh, yes. That's exactly where it is, and that's pretty good navigating after thirty years. No demands yet."
She sighed again and stood up to move the coffee pot so the percolation stream ran into her cup for a few moments.
Adding a bit of what had accumulated in the pot, she said, "There may not be any demands, Ed. We think the hostages may be intended as examples of what can happen if certain concessions aren't made concerning the Amaran project."
"Any idea who did it and why? Which group?"
"Nobody's taken credit or given reasons. All the usual agencies are investigating all the usual terror groups."
Sipping my coffee for a moment, I said, "You have two flitters and four teams, Linda. You could send probes to knock out the bad guys and parade the hostages out of there with a brass band and a popcorn wagon. Why me?"
Sitting back in her chair, Linda took a breath and met my gaze as she said, "The teams are subject to cooperative-command agreements and politics. You aren't. We don't just want our people out, Ed. We want to make an example of our own in this matter."
"Would that be an example like Schloss Brechau in '73?"
She nodded. "You got it. Our people out of there and total destruction of the facility."
Grinning, I asked, "Will a smoking crater do? Not one stone stacked upon another, and all that biblical stuff?"
With a completely deadpan expression, Linda replied, "As long as the results aren't radioactive. We want these people -- and everybody else -- to understand instantly and completely that nobody fucks with 3rd World personnel."
"You're prepared to do this sort of thing as often as necessary and maybe go straight to the top of the heap when the first twenty examples don't stick?"
Nodding, she said softly, "We are."
"Who's we? You, 3rd World, and who else?"
"Officially, nobody else. Unofficially, we have carte blanche."
I laughed at the term 'carte blanche', then laughed at her dour expression as I said, "That term still means they won't help or acknowledge a damned thing, but they also won't interfere, right? No new definitions since the seventies?"
After a moment, Linda snorted a laugh of her own and said, "Yeah, it means the same as ever. We're on our own."
"Mind if I call my, uhm... field consultant in on this?"
"Huh? Susanne?"
"Yup."
Linda seemed slightly confused. "Ed, I got the impression from Elkor and Stephanie that the AI's wanted no part of it."
"Sue may hold a different view."
Now Linda seemed totally confused. "How the hell can she 'hold a different view', Ed? She has the same programming."
With a shrug, I said, "Hey, I asked her the same question, ma'am."
"And..?"
"And you may want to discuss that with her sometime, but for now, I plan to ask her to come with me."
Giving me a droll look, Linda replied, "Why don't I discuss it with her now, Ed?"
Grinning, I said, "Well, okay, I guess. Sue?"
Sue appeared in the chair to my left.
"Hi, all," she said, "Linda, wouldn't removing the hostages with ridiculous ease and leaving the kidnappers holding an embarrassingly empty bag also show them that kidnapping 3rd World's people is pointless?"
Laughing, Linda said to me, "I love the way she said that." Turning to Sue, she said, "But, no, it probably wouldn't. They're Middle-Easterners. If anything, simply embarrassing them would likely make them start killing people. The kind of people who kidnap and take hostages understand dire consequences better than most people, but they usually ignore polite warnings."
I shrugged and said, "Besides, they already hate us, so we don't have to worry about offending anybody. Only Jordan and Israel signed the Amaran-Earth agreements and sent people to the meetings. The rest of the retarded sandbox countries south of Russia refused all involvement 'for religious reasons'."
Sipping my coffee, I added, "At least, that's what they said while they were threatening to cut off everyone's oil over the flitter factory deal. Interesting how those 'religious reasons' haven't applied to any other kinds of technology they could lay hands on. If it hadn't been for the original Amaran ship and a show of power, they'd have probably gone apeshit. They may still as their oil sales die off."
"Or," said Sue, "They may find their way to the bargaining table as their oil-based economies weaken."
"Screw 'em," I said. "Except for oil, sand, and religious insanity, they don't have a damned thing to offer the world."
"That's a rather narrow view, Ed."
"Yup. Been there, seen the place, and got to know some of the natives the hard way. Got chased by a mob for asking a female store clerk if the store had anything cold to drink. She freaked out and yammered at some guy. He stepped outside and yammered in the street, and next thing you know there was a happy, cheering, chanting mob after me."
Sitting back, I said, "I saw a mob just like it rip two people apart with their bare hands during an 'America is Satan' rally. Since neither of the bodies turned out to be American, I always figured someone set them up to die, too."
Sipping my coffee, I added, "And you can't find a beer outside an embassy without risking a prison term. Like I said, screw 'em. I've got no use for any part of the Middle East that isn't inside an air-conditioned Israeli nightclub."
With a rather judgmental look, Sue said, "I see."
Linda said, "I've heard his Middle East rant before. Iran still has a warrant out for his arrest, so that's where I always threaten to send him if he doesn't behave."
I said, "And I usually threaten to quit. It must work, since she's never sent me back there. Until now, anyway."
Linda smiled and leaned back as she said, "Try not to get caught, okay? Bail might be a problem."
Looking at me, Sue said, "The warrant says you shot a taxi driver in Tehran during a political demonstration."
"No doubt. But the US report says I just aimed a gun at him to get him moving and let him go when we got to the embassy gate. Note the four witnesses in the cab, Sue. Two Americans, one German, and a Brit. All of them swore I never fired my gun in the cab. It was a setup."
"A very common setup back then," said Linda. "The Iranians wanted the US to drop charges against someone who assisted a female slave business, so they manufactured a situation. The mob somehow assembled in less than ten minutes. With signs on sticks, no less. And the signs were machine-printed, not hand made, if that tells you anything. Ed and the others were pointed out by a man standing on top of a car. The cab driver wouldn't cooperate, so Ed stuck a gun in his ear to persuade him. The bullet they took out of the cab driver was a 9mm. Ed carried a .45 auto he picked up in Germany."
When Sue's intent gaze returned to me, I gave her a smug grin of vindication and said, "Check it out, Linda. She's cross-reffing everything against the records."
Linda grinned and asked, "How can you tell?"
"That's how she always looks when my past comes up." Giving her a hurt look, I added, "It's like she doesn't trust me or something, y'know? Just rips my little heart out."
Sipping her coffee, Linda chuckled, "You poor thing. You suffer so gracefully."
Sue joined her in a slight grin and asked, "When do we leave, Linda?"
Linda's chuckle stopped instantly. "You're going with him?"
"That's why I said 'we'. He'll need me."
Blinking at her, I asked, "Could you be more specific?"
Nodding, Sue said, "Later. On the way."
With a somewhat disbelieving smile forming, Linda turned to me and asked, "Do you think you'll need her?"
I shrugged. "Might. She seems pretty sure about it."
Turning back to Sue, she said, "You've seen the simulations, Sue. Are you going to be able to deal with it if things turn nasty?"
"I believe so," Sue said quietly.
"You don't sound altogether convinced."
"I am," I said. "She may push, pull, or just get the hell out of the way, but she'll handle it somehow, Linda. Now I have a question for all concerned."
As both ladies faced me, I asked, "Does anyone really believe a bunch of raghead revolutionaries pulled this off and got access to a military facility in Iran, defunct or not? Or even that any military facilities in Iran are defunct? I don't."
Linda's expression turned sharp as she said, "No. Their intel system is damned near as good as anyone else's, and they know at least what the public knows about fields. Probably a bit more than that. In fact, we think they'll be expecting this sort of response."
Setting my coffee down, I said, "Which leads us back to making examples, one way or the other. They're testing us; trying to find out what'll work against fields and what won't. The place will be wired to the hilt. Everybody in the bunker is expendable bait as long as someone can find out how well various things work against field tech."
Nodding, Linda said, "That's about how we figured it, too."
"Has anyone cobbled up a plan yet?"
Shaking her head, Linda made a wry face as she said, "The Feds have 'liaisoned' with 3rd World, of course. Also of course, their stated intent is to appoint negotiators when or if the perpetrators come forward or are officially discovered. In short, they don't want to rock the political boat, and not having absolute evidence to pursue allows them to stall about actions. Sounds familiar as hell, doesn't it?"
"Yup. Sure does."
"That's why I got with some people at 3rd last night and put your name on the table. Two hours later I had a 'go'." She sighed and added, "I guess it's only fair to tell you that I agreed to present this to you as a volunteer effort. The 3rd World brass didn't want me to call this an order."
Reaching to pat her hand, I grinned and said, "You tell 'em thanks, but I wouldn't miss this for the world."
We sipped coffee and discussed various aspects of the rescue effort for another fifteen minutes or so before Linda asked, "So, Ed, now that you've had look at things, what do you think will be your most likely course of action?"
Glancing at Sue, I keyed my implant and said, "No comments, Sue. We'll hand it to them at the other end."
In an almost human reaction, Sue recoiled slightly and asked, "Is there some reason you don't want to discuss..."
"Yes, there is," I interrupted. "Tell you later."
"Ed?" asked Linda.
Looking at her, I said, "Present, ma'am. Just thinking. Some of this intel is a day old, most of it is a few hours old at best. We'll come up with a few possibilities and pick one or two after we get there and have a look at the current situation. Got any interest in going to the beach while you're here? I could do a little preliminary studying. Of sand, y'know. The kind with beach bunnies instead of terrorists and camels."
Snorting a laugh, Linda looked at her watch -- as she always did when she wanted to close a meeting -- and said as she stood up, "You just want to get me into a bathing suit. No, thanks, I need to be getting back to Carrington. I have people coming this afternoon and I want to have things ready."
Although I couldn't envision how she or the Carrington complex could be less than ready, I said, "Yeah, the place needs a good dusting."
Sue said, "You never answered my question, Linda. When do you want us to launch?"
'Launch', she said. Not 'leave' or 'go' or anything so unassertive. Sue really seemed to be getting into this.
Linda stopped by the front door and looked at each of us for a moment, then said, "I'll leave the details of bunker-busting and hostage rescues to you two. Get underway as soon as you can and let me know when you have our people out. By then I'll know where they're going."
She gave Sue a quick hug and me a quick kiss, then opened the door and headed for the driveway with a small wave and a squeeze of her watch. Linda's flitter descended, she boarded it, and waved to us again as she lifted away.
I sipped my coffee as Sue closed the door and turned to look at me. Was that a trace of eagerness in her eyes?
Sipping again as I considered matters for a moment, I said, "Well, it's showtime, milady. You sure you want in on this?"
"Yes."
Nodding, I said, "Then I'll pack a few things and we'll go have a look at the place. What do you think of tunneling in?"
Grinning, Sue said, "I'd have suggested that if you hadn't."
"Gotta be quick, cool, and quiet about it, though."
With a dismissive wave, she said, "No noise, no heat, no radiation, and almost instantaneous. No sweat."
I grinned at her and asked, "How you gonna do it?"
"Sand and rock will become lead. It'll take up a lot less space that way, you know."
"Morphing stuff takes a lot of power, ma'am. We don't want to burn out my flitter and our only ride home."
Her left eyebrow went up just like Linda's. "Your only ride home, actually. As it happens, I've been making a field generator for the last five minutes. You're supposed to be packing, aren't you?"
Oh, yeah, she was eager; it was in her eyes, in her voice, and in her words. I found it fascinating. Where Steph would have been full of automatic reluctance, Sue was chomping at the bit to get going.
Giving her a quick, casual salute, I said, "Yas'm. So sorry, ma'am. Packing now, ma'am," and headed for the bedroom.
No sooner than I'd entered the bedroom, I felt another presence in the house. Stephanie's presence lingered for only a few seconds, then she was gone, along with Sue's presence.
Hm. A quiet conference without me, or an unannounced reprogramming session?
Sue's presence abruptly reappeared in the other room a few minutes later and neared the bedroom door as I tossed stuff in my jump kit and a backpack.
"How'd it go with Steph?" I asked, zipping the bags and heading for the door with them. "Was it advice, caution, or some quick reprogramming?"
"You noticed, huh? Oh, well. None of the above. Steph, Elkor, and I teamed up to move a historic building."
Pausing in mid-reach for some canned soup, I looked at her briefly, then said, "Well, I'm sure you had a good reason."
She laughed. "Yes, we did. Land had been donated for it, but too late to suit the new owners of the property."
"Uh, huh. Did you happen to mention to anyone that you'd be moving it, ma'am? Did everybody run screaming while the building floated to the new location?"
Sue shrugged and said, "We didn't steal it, sir. Stephanie spoke to the new property owners first. She offered to save them the expense of tearing it down by moving it immediately. He laughed and said 'Yeah, sure, lady. Go for it.' Only a few screamed or ran when the building lifted. Most people stared from a safe distance, and the ones inside the building..."
Tossing a few cans of soup in my backpack, I chuckled, "Inside? Kewl."
She continued, "Those inside gathered at the windows."
"No doubt. People don't fly in buildings every day. You realize that guy who gave Steph permission probably thought she was nuts?"
"Doesn't matter. There were witnesses."
Shrugging, I said, "Good 'nuff, then." Picking up my stuff, I asked, "Are you still messing around with that generator, or are you finally ready to go, milady?"
"Oh, up yours. The generator is already aboard. The only thing left to load is you."
Sighing, I said, "I'm doing something about that right now, so relax while I make a fresh coffee and tell me how you three got involved with moving that building."
"You really do drink too much of that stuff."
I rinsed my cup as I replied, "Yup. On with the story."
"Elkor became aware of the situation and asked us to assist him in lifting the building. We did so."
When she said nothing else for a moment, I glanced at her and asked, "Could you be just a hair more informative?"
Rolling her eyes, Sue asked, "Could I play it back for you once we're underway?"
Dumping coffee in the mug and adding hot water, I replied, "Just have some patience and tell me the key points. What building? Where? And why was it of interest to Elkor?"
Elkor appeared on the kitchen sink and said, "It was the Lindsey home in Boston, Ed."
"Lindsey? That's a familiar name. There's a Lindsey on the commo staff at Carrington. Any relation to the house?"
Sue laughed softly as Elkor said, "Yes. Amelia Lindsey took leave from Carrington to try to help her brother in the matter. They had a permit to move the house, but permits concerning moving the house through city streets hadn't been approved by the deadline. I enlisted Sue and Stephanie to assist me in circumventing bureaucratic errors."
"That means you airlifted it. How far?"
"Sixteen point nine miles."
I laughed. "Woo! Film at eleven. 'Flying house lands in Boston, misses witch'. Who knew you were going to do it?"
"I saw no reason to inform anyone of our assistance."
Laughing again, I said, "Even better. Good going, Elkor. The headlines will read 'Ghosts Move House!' and the tabloids'll have a field day with it."
Sue chuckled again as I capped my travel mug.
My backpack and ditty bag floated toward the front door as I asked, "Sure you don't want to come along, Elkor? Maybe just to help Sue keep a lid on her enthusiasm?"
"I'll join you later. I will, however, wish you good luck in the interim."
With a grin, I said, "Thanks. Every little bit helps."
He vanished and the front door opened. Sue and I followed my bags to the flitter.
Once we were aboard the flitter and moving east, I called up maps and other info concerning Iran. Yup. Yazd was right where I'd left it back in 1979, in almost the exact center of the country with the same featureless desert to the north and rocky, barren mountains to the south.
As a bonus, the whole area was dotted with villages full of people who'd been heavily propagandized for the last couple of decades to hate anyone not Iranian and Islamic and to hate Americans and all other westerners in particular.
The actual bunker location was some thirty miles east of Yazd inside a 6,000-foot-tall, rock-strewn mountain that looked as if it hadn't seen a drop of rain in centuries. Field probes had located the bunker's main entrance at the mountain's base.
I tapped up structural info and gave matters some thought. The bunker was roughly two hundred feet wide by three hundred feet long and nearly a hundred feet deep. Its concrete foundation had been laid over bedrock.
Preparing concrete required water. That much concrete would have required a small lake. The diagram on screen showed four shafts reaching down to the water table.
"Sue, I'm thinking about these well shafts, and I'm looking for a bit more than a simple cave-in. Let's say that we create a cavern half the size of the bunker complex directly under the bunker, then fill the cavern with water from below."
She smiled. "Okay, that's do-able."
"Maybe then we could seal the well shafts and heat the water in the cavern to steam. Still do-able?"
Shrugging, she said, "Yes. I can preheat the water while you collect the people and bring them to the flitter. When we leave the cavern, I can leave the generator inside and collapse our exit tunnel. The water will flash to steam and permeate the mountain, which will collapse into the cavern."
"Sounds as if it ought to pretty much dissolve the mountain to sludge."
"It would, but the scalding residue would flow into the valleys on either side of the mountain range. It would be an ecological disaster and there are villages to consider."
"Then why did you let me go on about steam-blasting the place? Come up with something better, lady."
"I have. Let everybody evacuate, then transmogrify the entire mountain; essentially make it disappear."
Gesturing at the two-foot ball on the deck, I asked, "Think you brought enough dynamite, Butch?"
Sue's eyes met mine blankly for a split second, then she laughed. "Got it." Laughing again, Sue took the seat on my right and said, "I'll build more generators. We'll pick up raw materials when we start the tunnel."
Pausing for a moment -- most likely for effect -- she thumbed at the generator and said, "Eight of those generators can transform the entire mountain into any element -- or combination of elements -- you can imagine."
I'd seen too much over the last few years, I guess; godzilla spaceships, asteroid factories, flitters, fields... Hell, I had two field implants in my head and... well, the concept of Sue zapping a mountain out of existence just didn't seem to surprise me all that much.
I said, "Let's keep it quick and simple. I suppose the world could always use a little more oxygen."
Sue shook her head. "Too dangerous. It would flow away from the source and follow the topography. I was considering water."
Shrugging, I said, "Works for me. We can turn the area into a deep lake, and this damned rock garden could sure as hell use one of those. The extra water will run off toward the desert."
I tried to envision the amount of water that might result from converting all that rock and dirt to water and couldn't, of course. A bunch. A big-assed flood. Sue continued with her idea.
"The process will have to be performed carefully to prevent inundating villages in the valleys. We also have to decide how much of the mountain range to convert."
Shrugging again, I said, "Just change however much seems about right." I used an index finger to trace a box surrounding the chunk of mountain on the screen. "Maybe like that. Nobody gave us exact specifications, so we'll just leave a very noticeable gap with a lake at the bottom and call it done."
Sue caused green lines to appear on the screen that firmed up my outline and straightened the sides of the box. She then made the contents of the box disappear and added a splash of water at the bottom.
"Like that?"
With a nod, I said, "Looks good to me, ma'am. You seem to have a handle on the situation, so I'll concentrate on getting the hostages out. How are we going to chase the survivors out of the bunker?"
Glancing sharply at me, Sue asked, "Survivors?"
I met her gaze and said, "That's what I plan to call the people who don't try to stop me."
Looking somewhat disturbed, Sue said, "My probes can find and stun everyone, Ed."
"Then we'd have to haul them all out, Sue, and there's no good reason to do that. They're terrorists and people who work with terrorists. When they realize something's going on downstairs, they'll come running. I plan to take out as many as possible while I have the opportunity."
In a flat tone, she insisted, "You don't have to kill them."
"Did they avoid killing when they blew up those cars? Do they blow themselves up to kill people in other countries? Do they have a laundry list a mile long of other ways they..."
Sue's eyes seemed to turn hard. In a firm, insistent tone, she reiterated, "You don't have to kill them."
Standing up abruptly, Sue stalked to the rear of the flitter. How cute. Stalking away as punctuation was one of Selena's argument tricks, and Sue did it as well as Selena ever had.
I swiveled my seat to keep her glorious legs in sight as they flashed in the sunlight and she made a point of appearing to find something interesting about the ocean below.
Sipping coffee, I studied Sue from the ankles up and for perhaps the thousandth time silently thanked her for choosing so well in creating the form of her field manifestation.
Knowing she was monitoring my biostats, I continued to eyeball her. After some moments of this, she reversed herself completely without actually turning around and met my gaze.
"Sue," I said, "You're absolutely gorgeous."
"I'm well aware of that," she snapped. "What I don't know is how I can stop you from killing anyone in the bunker."
I sipped again and said quietly, "Without keeping me from going in, you probably can't. But think about this; there's really not a damned thing to stop you from handling this mission on your own, is there?"
"Is that what you want me to do?"
"I didn't say that, did I? I just want to know why you haven't decided to handle everything your way."
Canting her head, Sue answered, "If you'll recall, I was assigned to you, not you to me."
"Ah, yes. Was that as a temporary slave?"
Her gaze sharpened as she replied, "No, not as a slave."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"What would you call yourself, then? An indentured servant? A subordinate associate?"
"Either would probably do well enough. You're the one seeking a definition, so you come up with a label."
Shaking my head, I said, "Don't like any of 'em so far. You think of one. If it'll help you decide, make that an order."
Sue stiffened, then disappeared from the other end of the flitter and reappeared less than a foot from my face. Her anger was actually tangible; a strong static field surrounded her that pulled at my clothes and hair.
I waved my arm in front of her and watched the hairs lean in her direction as I said, "I think you're leaking, ma'am. Have you figured out what I've been getting at yet?"
The anger in her face froze for a moment, then disappeared as a somewhat suspicious expression replaced it. Another moment passed before the static field faded and Sue stepped back a pace. She studied me without comment for a short time, then took a seat.
"No," she said. "I haven't figured out what the hell you've been 'getting at', Ed."
"Too bad. Kinda thought you would. Choices, Sue."
In a flat tone, she repeated, "Choices."
"Yeah, choices," I said with a slight nod. "This may sound a bit melodramatic, but you have the power of the stars at your command. I lack your abilities in all but the smallest ways and I quite frankly lack your inhibitions about using them, yet I'm in command of you. Does that make sense, ma'am?"
Taking her seat again, she said, "No. It doesn't."
Grinning, I asked, "It hasn't made sense to you since the day you met me, has it?"
Nodding slightly, she softly agreed, "No, it hasn't."
"But your agreement with Steph and Elkor binds you to me. How would you like a day off? This day in particular, in order to handle this situation in your own way?"
Peering at me as if expecting some kind of trap, Sue nodded slightly again and said, "I suppose I'd like that."
"Then discuss it with Steph and Elkor now, please."
I had time only to sip my coffee and shift in my seat a bit before both Steph and Elkor appeared. Steph stood by the console and Elkor took his usual place on the dash.
"Hi," I said. "Are you guys gonna give her the day off?"
"If you wish it," said Elkor. "But this will extend her year of service with you by one day."
Shrugging, I said, "Suits me. I kind of like having her around, y'know. Linda said 'go get 'em'. She didn't say how. Sue doesn't like my way, so I'm stepping aside for hers."
Stephanie asked, "You don't want to command this effort?"
"Still won't call it a mission, huh? Oh, well. 'Command'? Do any of you really need a 'commander' at this point? Anyway, it doesn't matter to me who's in charge, as long as we end up with a deep lake where that mountain is now and a bunch of freed hostages. If you two aren't real busy elsewhere, how about helping her? I'd like that lake in place an hour or more before dark. When's sundown in Yazd?"
"Official nightfall will be eight-thirteen. Why before then?"
"To give everybody concerned some camera time and a good look at things. Flitter, ring up Linda for me."
The flitter said, "Yes, sir," and the console screen came on as it made the connection. A few moments later Linda's face filled the screen.
"Yes, Ed?"
"Hi, there. Can you make sure everybody is watching the mountain this afternoon? Maybe put a satellite on it?"
Cocking her head slightly, Linda said, "We already have a couple of satellites watching the area, Ed. What's up?"
"Remember the big blue truck? Is this link clean?"
Her gaze sharpened. "I'll call you back in a few minutes."
"Good 'nuff. See you then."
Linda poked her screen off. I fished a can of chicken noodle soup out of my backpack and used a thin field tendril to slice out the lid. The soup was gone before Linda called back some ten minutes later.
"What's on your agenda, Ed?"
"Not mine, ma'am. Sue's. She wants to turn the mountain into water. To make a lake where it is now. The job should be finished about an hour before sundown, Yazd time."
For some moments, Linda stared silently at Sue, then her gaze shifted to me and her silence continued for a time.
"Ed," she said shortly, "If you're kidding, I'm not amused. If you aren't kidding, the idea sounds great. Can they really do something like that?"
"They can. They couldn't use this technique for the truck job, but this one is big enough that they can put a bunch of booster generators around the mountain and make it go away."
"My God... To turn a mountain into water..." she shook off her amazement. "News people. Satellites. I take it you're looking for a big audience for this magic trick?"
"Yup. Eyewitnesses and plenty of 'em. People who'll talk about it for generations and maybe stop donating their children to the suicide squads. There are villages and towns all around us. Are there any western news outfits in the area?"
Sue raised her eyebrow at me as if to ask why I hadn't asked her that question. I gave her a 'wait' hand signal below the view of the flitter's screen.
"Probably," said Linda, "But we couldn't count on them receiving travel permits from their current locations quickly enough. We could, however, get word to the news media in Iran and surrounding countries to keep an eye on the bunker's mountain this afternoon. That tip from the right source would make them send cameras to the region."
"Sounds good. Tell 'em not to stand too close, and like that. That's all we had for you, milady."
With a short laugh, Linda said, "That was enough, I think. Oh, an update; the State Department wants the hostages taken to Landstuhl."
"Kewl. I haven't seen that part of Germany for a while."
"You may not recognize the place. The old hospital building is gone. They built a new one a few years ago."
"Too bad. I liked that place. Who's going to meet us and take delivery?"
"I'm sending Lena Danvers from the Frankfurt office. It's your choice whether to make a grand entrance or not."
"We'll see how it goes. Anything else?"
"No, nothing at this moment."
"Good 'nuff, then. Oh, one more thing... Sue's running the show because we couldn't agree on methods."
"That must mean she came up with a plan to avoid killing."
"Yup."
Sighing, Linda said, "Oh, well. Thanks for the update."
When Linda had signed off, Sue looked at me and said, "She was disappointed."
"Maybe a little. Not really."
Manufacturing a deliberate sigh, Sue said, "Yes, she was."
"Well? What did you expect? She's not fond of terrorists, either. She'd rather see them all dead, just as I would. Have you made arrangements to move all the human and non-human critters off the mountain?"
Elkor said, "My flitter will join you shortly. Stephanie and I will relocate whatever life forms we find while you and Sue free the hostages and remove people."
Nodding, I said, "Thanks, Elkor. And you, Steph. Thank you both for joining us."
Steph studied me intently for a moment. "I believe that has been your goal since learning of this... effort... last night."
Trying to look somewhat stricken, I asked, "Excuse me? Are you accusing me of having bamboozled you aboard, ma'am?"
A pair of field-generated, bright orange overshoes appeared and hovered in the air between Steph and me.
She guided them to her feet, where they melded with her existing field, and stated, "I believe you bamboozled Sue, and through her, us."
Sue laughed at Steph's overshoes and Steph laughed with her. Elkor's demeanor was as unexpressive as ever.
Shrugging, I replied, "You caught me, ma'am. I wanted the best team possible for this job."
Steph's boots turned bright red and extended upward to her knees as Sue laughed again.
"Okay," I said, "All right! I'll confess; I wanted a quick solution that would generate worldwide press and get the 'don't mess with 3rd World' message out there, but I also wanted a solution that all of you could support, because -- tall galoshes or no -- you are the best team possible."
Looking at Sue, I added, "I cornered you with the subject of killing, knowing you'd come up with an answer. If you're okay with that, congratulations, milady."
Appearing a bit tense, Sue gave me a hard gaze and asked, "What if I'm not okay with that?"
"In that case, my apologies, for what they may be worth. It's a good plan that covers all bases, so unless someone has a better idea, we're going with it. Besides, we got you a day off, didn't we?"
She shrugged. "Oh, big damned deal that is. I'm working anyway and I'll have to make it up later."
I turned to Steph and Elkor. "How about that? Is it really absolutely necessary to tack it back on at the end?"
Elkor said, "I suppose not."
Turning back to Sue, I said, "Well, there you go, ma'am. Now you've scored two days off. Ain't life just grand?"
Sue created a three-foot-wide field screen displaying a calendar that appeared to have been hand-scrawled with Crayons. Her release date was circled in red.
With a solicitous little smile, she asked, "Two days off, you say? Look, Ed, at this calendar I made just for you. Take note of my release date -- a date that hasn't changed, by the way -- and please explain to us how basic math works in your world."
Steph laughed and Elkor chuckled as Sue continued her solicitous little smile. I sipped my coffee and sent a neon-green field tendril to gently pat her cheek.
"There, there, milady. You didn't lose any pay or benefits, did you? No need to get all fuzzed up, is there? Sometimes it's the thought that counts, right?"
Giving me a tight glower, Sue said, "Oh, yes, sir, sir. It surely is, sir. Let me demonstrate for you."
Overriding my control of the tendril, Sue disconnected it from me and twisted it into an elaborate knot. The knotted remnant slowly turned blue and deflated, then faded away.
Glancing at Steph, I said, "Well, that certainly looked painful enough."
"Indeed it did."
"I think she has a mean streak, programming or no."
"Could be."
Studying Sue, I asked Steph, "Should that little display of pique add any time to her sentence?"
Sue's glower darkened slightly.
"No, I think not," said Steph. "There have been times when... Well, let's just say that I can empathize with her to a degree."
With a quick grin, Steph added, "We'll be back later," and she and Elkor vanished.
Laughing, Sue reclined her chair and put her feet up on thin air. I created a field footstool and did the same as I again eyed her perfect legs. Sue turned her head to look at me.
"You have absolutely great legs, lady," I said, "That calendar was a good comeback."
Grinning wryly, she noddingly said, "Thank you. I was hoping you'd take it well."
"Oh, I surely did, ma'am. When this is over, you're fired."
Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened.
"What?! Ed, I..." she stopped when she saw my grin.
Punching up the internet on the console, I said, "Gotcha. It'll take more than that kiddie calendar and some attitude to make me dump you, sweetie. Now I'm going to check my email. Think you can find something constructive to do?"
Through clenched teeth and a saccharine smile, she muttered, "Oh, I think so," and vanished.
Damn, she was good with human mannerisms. I processed some ebook orders, zapped some inevitable spam, and checked my Yahoo newsgroups.
In the AUWG group, a member of the old guard of the Aurora Universe had cobbled up another chapter in a superwoman story.
Mentally shrugging, I clicked to the chapter and gave it a quick browse. It wasn't a bad read, but I'd been kind of tired of the same old superwoman theme in general for quite a while.
Clicking to the next group -- one concerning ebooks -- I found that someone had yet again brought up the threadworn subject of DRM and copy protection schemes, apparently only to give himself an excuse to post his sig lines and URL.
A few groups and no interesting messages later, I said to hell with it and clicked up the intra-company mode to look up basic info about Lena Danvers.
'Danvers, Lena Marie', read the sidebar text beside a picture of a redheaded woman. Her face and hair reminded me of Tanya Roberts, and I wondered if her voice would have the same husky, raspy quality. Probably not; that much coincidence would be just too damned fine.
After noting her three college degrees and her age -- thirty-four -- I looked for info about what she might be doing for 3rd World by clicking on the 'position' link. The resulting pop-up window merely listed her as 'Deputy Director, Frankfurt', with no further job description.
If I'd been interested enough, I could have pulled her info from another location, but I'd have had to explain my request to someone, and I'm never in the mood for bureaucracy.
Clicking the 'past employment' link got me exactly what I'd expected -- another blank box. I hit the contact link and was given the choice of padmail or direct connection. I chose the direct link and the little 'secure' icon that meant her pad was bleating softly appeared at the bottom of the screen.
Her face filled the screen as she answered, "Danvers here," in a voice somewhat higher-pitched and sharp than was comfortable for my ears.
She was in her mid-thirties and had medium-green eyes that focused on mine like aiming devices. I could see the interior of a car behind her and I realized that she was instinctively trying to talk above ambient noise to a dash camera, but I didn't hear any ambient noise to speak of because her car's pad system knew what to filter out.
"Hi, there," I said. "You do know that your car pad is filtering out road noises, don't you?"
In that same tone, she distractedly replied, "Yes," as she turned a corner and accelerated. "What's on your mind?"
"We'll be meeting later today. Is there anything we need to discuss before then?"
"Not until we know the condition of the hostages. What are your instructions?"
"Drop 'em off with you at Landstuhl."
Seeming slightly surprised, she asked, "Nothing else?"
"That's all. What were you expecting?"
She shook her head tersely. "Never mind. You're to deliver them to the helipad. We'll have teams standing by. Have all your teams and flitters land for decontamination procedures."
I almost laughed. Almost. "Do you think we'll have desert cooties or something?"
"Don't try to be funny. Just do it."
"May I ask where the decontamination order came from?"
Her face set in a mask of irritation, Danvers snapped, "It comes from me. I'm going by the book."
"Well, don't drag out all that gear on our account. Decon won't be necessary. Confirm it with Linda."
For a moment she was silent, then she said, "All right, I'll do that. I'll also set up an adequate response team for your arrival on general principles. How many personnel will be involved in the assault? What are casualty expectations?"
Could she really not know? Had Linda only told her to haul ass down to Landstuhl?
She noticed my surprised expression and her gaze narrowed a bit as she snapped, "Well?"
Shrugging, I said, "I'm actually not expecting any casualties unless the prisoners have been mistreated. Maybe I should ask what your instructions are."
She instantly responded, "I'd rather not discuss my instructions, thank you."
Danvers was a joy to behold, but she seemed somewhat cool and distant and had that rather piercing voice. I decided that talking with her wasn't very entertaining.
"Fine," I said, "Expect one flitter."
"What? But for an extraction like this..."
"One flitter," I interrupted. "And talk to Linda before you gear up for a big show. Is there anything else?"
Studying me rather narrowly, Danvers said, "Oh, yes. Definitely. But not just at this moment."
Danvers seemed to be inferring that she wasn't completely satisfied with the outcome of the conversation. Oh, well.
Nodding, I said, "Okay. Later, then," and hit the 'off' icon.
Damn. If that woman got pissed or excited, her voice would shift up another octave or two. Bet she could shatter glass on a good day; she wasn't that far from a C-flat note as it was.
Soft, warm laughter came through my implant.
"You have a comment, milady?"
"That woman bugs the hell out of you, doesn't she? You've been all clenched up since she answered her padcall."
"Her voice made my ears and teeth hurt. Want to bet she can she hit a shattering C-flat?"
"No bet. She's done it at parties and bars and once in 3rd World's London office."
"What the hell is she? A frustrated opera singer?"
More laughter. "There's no mention of that in her records."
"Uh, huh. A favor, Sue. I may have to spend some time with her. Please tune one of my implants so that whenever she speaks in my presence, her voice is filtered to a pleasant contralto."
"Done. You'll learn how well it works when she calls back."
"She doesn't need to call back. Linda can tell her what's up."
"Yes, but she was curious enough to stop the car and look you up. She just drew a blank window when she clicked on your 'position' link, and when she tried to get the information through her office link, it showed you as an 'unlisted' operative, told her nothing, and automatically referred a notification of the inquiry to Linda's office."
"Sue, why can't she pull my info? Is it rank or clearance?"
"Neither, Ed. Linda simply put a referral flag on your info. In the course of her regular duties, Danvers has no 'need to know' about such people as you."
"Such people as me, huh? Gee, I hope you meant that in a kindly manner, flitter girl."
"Oh, of course, sir. Oops, stand by, she's calling now. Shall I put her through, or would you like a moment to prepare?"
Sighing, I said, "Sometimes you almost have too much personality, lady. Just patch her through on a field screen."
A three-foot screen appeared and Danvers coolly said, "Hello. I hope I'm not disturbing you, but I have a question."
Sipping my coffee as she spoke, I noted that Sue's fix had made Danvers' voice tolerable. I answered, "Shoot."
"Uhm... What exactly do you do for 3rd World?"
In a slightly drawling Texas accent, I said, "Ah'm just wunna Linda's flunkies, ma'am. A mere minion to her whims."
Sue's laughter came through my implant.
Danvers regarded me silently for a short time and replied, "Just tell me if you won't -- or can't -- tell me."
Shrugging, I said, "So don't believe me. Ask Linda. She calls me to run errands and do stuff now and then, that's all."
Enunciating each word clearly, Danvers repeated, "Do stuff?" and paused before asking, "Like rescuing hostages, you mean? Why would a simple errand boy have a closed file?"
With a short laugh, I said, "You'll have to ask her, I guess. I didn't close it, so I'm not going to talk out of class."
Just to see if my impressions of her were correct, I asked, "Did you know you kind of look like Tanya Roberts?"
Rolling her eyes, she said, "So I've been told. Too often."
"It isn't a bad thing at all, Lena. Trust me on that."
Her face froze in a hard mask. She softly asked, "Did you just call me by my first name, Mister Howdershelt?"
Uh-huh. I was right. Another damned middle-management tightass. Interview over.
Reaching for the 'off' icon, I said, "Nah. Musta been your imagination. See ya."
I tapped off the connection and sipped my coffee.
"Sue."
She snickered, "Yes, Ed."
"You can't tell an outright lie, so if she calls back, tell her that I told you to tell her that I told you to say that I'm not here. Does that cover it well enough?"
Laughing, Sue said, "Yes, I believe it should. What if she insists on speaking with you?"
"If she sounds pissed, tell her you can't do it."
"Uhm... I'm supposed to be off today, aren't I?"
"Oh, hell, never mind. Flitter."
"Yes, sir," said the flitter core.
"Screen my calls. I'm taking emergency-only calls from Lena Danvers and let me know when we're five minutes from Yazd."
"Yes, sir."
"Thank you. It's nice to know at least one of my computers is working properly today."
Sue stuck her tongue out at me. I called up a standalone field screen to read for a while. Sue took the hint and vanished.
Somewhere just before we reached Iran, it occurred to me that a big lake without feeder rivers would simply dry up sooner or later. Maybe reroute one of the valley rivers..? No. They needed a 'don't ever fuck with 3rd World' monument that would stand for centuries and be absolutely and undeniably obvious as hell while being totally useless as anything but a tourist attraction.
Made of what? They'd recycle glass or steel until the mountain was gone. What did they already have that they couldn't get rid of? Sand? Yeah, that would do it. No, it wouldn't. It would just blow away in the mountain breezes.
"Sue," I said, "Those generators. Can we leave them here?"
She appeared just as the flitter said, "We're five minutes from Yazd, sir."
"Thanks." Turning to Sue, I asked, "What about those generators? Can they be left here?"
"I suppose so. What do you have in mind?"
"Something very frustrating. What if we turn that mountain into pure gold, then use the generators to create a permanent barrier around it?"
Sue considered the matter for all of half a second.
"Converting the mountain's components to gold would reduce its volume drastically, Ed."
Sighing, I replied, "It would still be a helluva big pile of gold and they wouldn't be able to touch it, right?"
"True. But may I suggest that we create a hollow gold mountain that will retain it's current size and shape? Wouldn't that be much more effective than a tiny mountain?"
I gave her a little salute and said, "That's a great idea, Sue. A great idea. They'll go crazy trying to figure a way to get at it, so now let's go one step further and slap a 3rd World logo on it and scribble 'Compliments of 3rd World Products' on both sides in all the major languages."
Laughing, Sue took a seat beside me.
"You said I had a mean streak," she said, "It seems that you have one, too."
Shaking my head, I said, "I never once denied it, milady."
"A problem, though. The world doesn't know about our transmutative abilities. While a gold mountain may be a great idea, would it really be a good idea?"
Sighing again, I shrugged. "Probably not. Just a thought. How about turning that water to steam and leaving them a flat spot instead of a lake? Any repercussions you can't live with?"
"I suppose not."
"Then that's the new plan. We'll let Linda know ahead of time so nobody'll panic when they see the cloud going up."
The city of Yazd came into view and flashed below us as we approached the bunker's mountain. Talk about a severe lack of progress... If Yazd had improved at all since the seventies, the differences weren't readily apparent.
A field more than a yard wide appeared above the flitter's console. Twenty glowing spheres orbited the top of the mountain on the screen, but when I looked at the actual mountain, the spheres weren't visible.
Zooming the screen, I watched someone's herd of sheep disappear from the side of the mountain and knew that Steph and Elkor were picking them up for transport elsewhere. A herdsman became somewhat frantic until he, too, disappeared.
Sue took us to a wrinkle in the mountain that turned out to be a deep gash. The flitter's field extended forward in what appeared to be a softly glowing tube and rock simply vanished ahead of us.
"Kewl," I said. "We're still coming in below the bunker?"
"Yes. The goal now is simply to remove everyone before converting the mountain. Steph and Elkor will create their own evacuation tunnels and meet us before we enter the bunker."
Giving her a blatantly admiring expression, I said, "Wow. You're so organized, ma'am."
Returning a saccharine smile, she replied, "You really have no idea, sir."
When the brief wonder of silently boring into solid rock wore off, I realized we were making headway at fifteen or so miles per hour in a tube only about two inches wider than the flitter.
As I tried to keep a bright spot of rock in sight long enough to figure out what it was, Sue asked, "Should I opaque the sides?"
"Nah. What was that white stuff that went by? Quartz?"
Sue looked a bit surprised as she replied, "Yes, it was."
A few moments later the flitter stopped and our field gradually changed shape as it expanded outward, creating an empty bubble around us. As it swelled upward, the rock ended where the concrete of the bunker began.
Looking at me, Sue asked, "Do you wish to be involved, or should I be the one to make contact with the hostages?"
Shrugging, I said, "Your choice, lady. Like I said, you're in charge of this op."
"Then you handle meeting them. I'll assist Steph and Elkor in subduing and extracting the other personnel."
She vanished and I watched two small holes form in the ceiling of the bubble. Each hole expanded to about a yard in diameter, then stopped.
"Flitter," I said, "I may be tossing some people down to you. Don't let them land too hard, okay?"
"Yes, sir."
Elevating the flitter until I could touch the ten-foot-thick concrete foundation of the bunker, I stood under one of the holes and used my implant to form a field pedestal that lifted me high enough to pop up for a look into the cell.
In the dim light I saw that three guys wearing slacks and shirts better suited for an office environment had backed up against one of the walls, putting the hole between them and the cell's door.
"Hi, guys," I said, lifting myself up and into the cell and stepping to one side of the hole, "You ready to leave yet?"
"Who the hell are you?" one of them asked warily.
Ignoring his question, I said, "Keep the noise down. You're going to Germany." Pointing at the floor, I said, "There's a flitter down there. Let's go."
Two of them edged over to peer into the hole. The other one stayed by the wall and asked, "Who sent you?"
"3rd World asked me to help out. C'mon, guys, let's go. I still have to liberate the ladies."
One of the men by the hole said to him, "There really is a flitter down there, Steve."
Steve came to look into the hole and shuddered visibly.
"Uh... how do we get down there?"
"Jump. The flitter will catch you."
Looking at me as if I was nuts, Steve backed away from the hole and said, "I'm not going to break a leg or worse. Get a ladder or something."
I stunned him cold and said to the other two men, "I'm going to drop him down the hole. You two can jump -- right now -- or get the same treatment."
One of them said, "Uh, we could help you..."
Shaking my head, I said, "Nope. You might help or you might try to stop me from dropping ol' Steve, here. Jump now or I drop you, too. Whoever's bravest can go first to show the other it's safe."
Heh. Make it a matter of perceived cojones and you'll usually get volunteers. One of the guys glanced at the other and stepped up to the hole. The other guy stepped up beside him, then the action stopped; they couldn't both go through the hole. I pointed at the one on the left.
"You. Do it. Let's get this show moving."
With a narrow glare at me, he knelt and lowered himself backward into the hole until he was hanging by his fingertips, then let go. A moment later, laughter came from below.
"Frank! It was only a couple of feet! I'm okay!"
When Frank looked at me, I motioned at the hole. He lowered himself as the other guy had and hung there for a moment, then let go.
I dragged Steve to the hole, said, "Stand clear," and shoved him until he toppled in legs-first. The flitter caught him and gently lowered him to the deck, then I jumped into the hole.
The flitter lowered me as gently as it had Steve. Once I was aboard, I put a finger to my lips to shush the others and pointed at the second hole in the concrete above us.
"Next stop," I said as the flitter moved to place me below that hole, "Back in a few. Stay clear of the hole."
Lifting myself to again peek into the cell above, I saw both women sitting on one of the low bunks, staring at me through the dimness of the cell.
"Hi, Alanah," I said, lifting to step out of the hole. "They told me you needed a ride home." To the other woman, I said with a small salute, "And you must be Marine Lieutenant Barbara Klass. Hi, there, LT."
Peering at me in the dimness, Alanah asked, "Ed?"
"Yup. If you're tired of this place, hop on down to my flitter, ma'am. The guys they grabbed with you are already aboard." To Barbara, I said, "It isn't a lack of manners, you know. I just happened across their cell first."
Alanah grinned and chuckled as she stood up and came to look into the hole at the flitter below. Klass followed almost immediately and I noted that she still wore Alanah's watch.
"Barbara," said Alanah, "Just do what I do."
I gave her a hand sitting down at the edge of the hole, then she let herself drop to the flitter, where she turned and waved up at Barbara.
Barbara looked at me and started to say something. I put a finger to my lips and said, "Later. Downstairs first, please."
She nodded, then followed Alanah's example. Just as she disappeared down the hole, a shadow blotted out the light from the cell door, then a man yelled and thrust the muzzle of a rifle through the little barred window in the door.
I said, "Five suit on," as I dove for the floor by the door.
The guard sprayed the cell with automatic fire, screams and shouts came from the hole in the floor, and a few ricochets found me, but my field suit stopped them.
As soon as the firing stopped, I hurried to one side for the cover of a concrete wall in case the guy decided to shoot through the door.
There were more shouts from below. Another guy arrived outside the door and yelled something in a commanding tone. An empty magazine clattered to the floor out there and another one was slapped into a rifle then a rifle bolt slammed shut.
"Three suit on," I muttered, and watched my arms and legs vanish as the refraction field enveloped me.
Keys rattled at the lock as one was inserted and turned, then the door was kicked open and a guy in an outfit that was half-uniform, half-street-clothes cautiously eased into the cell, his gaze sweeping the room as he glanced at the hole.
No worries. The flitter knew what to do about things like incoming rifle fire. I let the guy continue toward the hole so his friend would follow him into the cell.
As soon as the second guy was inside, I stunned him and shoved him at the first guy. To avoid falling into the hole, the first guy lurched sideways as he went down. He fell flat on his back and aimed his rifle around the little room.
Before I could find out whether he was stupid enough to fire the rifle in a stonewalled cell, I stunned him, too, then tossed their rifles down the hole to the flitter with instructions to field-isolate them. As an afterthought, I tossed their web belts with ammo pouches into the hole, as well.
An invisible presence swept into the cell and seemed to hover above the two guards and the hole in the floor.
"Sue," I said, "You missed a couple of the baddies."
She appeared on the other side of the hole and grinningly said, "Thank you," then vanished again. The baddies floated toward the cell door.
'Hm,' I thought, as I stepped into the hole and dropped to the flitter's deck. Chances were almost nil that Steph and company could have overlooked those two guards by accident.
Alanah and Barbara had taken seats by the console. I saw that the rifles and ammo had been piled at the far end of the flitter. Two of the guys were kneeling beside them, frustrated and baffled that they couldn't put their hands on the weapons.
Steve was still out cold, lying near the rifles. The flitter must have simply stored him as received, providing theta waves to keep him out.
Oh, well. In that condition he was one less person to deal with. I briefly considered zapping the others, but couldn't come up with quite enough reason to do so. None of the guys looked as if they'd been damaged or abused and they hadn't become aware of my presence.
Alanah and Barbara Klass looked a bit frayed at the edges, but otherwise in good shape. If anyone had needed medical attention, Sue or Steph would have seen to it immediately. I studied Barbara for a moment. Five-nine or so. Very fit, and it looked good on her.
Standing near the ladies, I softly said, "All suits off," and reappeared. Barbara startled mightily and stared bug-eyed at me as I sat down in the pilot's seat.
After a moment, she asked, "Uh... Are you all right? What happened up there?" as I retrieved my coffee mug.
"I'm fine. A couple of guards showed up. Flitter, move us away from the holes and put a barrier between us and the men, please. Soundproof and opaque it."
Moving us into the tunnel, the flitter replied, "Yes, sir."
Alanah's eyebrows went up, but she said nothing. Barbara, on the other hand, reached to touch the barrier and asked, "Why did you do that? How did you make yourself invisible?"
"I did that because I want a quiet minute or two while I check in. That quiet minute includes you, please, ma'am."
Keying my implant, I asked, "Sue, do your plans include any good reasons for us hanging around down here?"
Sue chuckled, "No, Ed, they don't."
"Kewl. Then how about telling the flitter to get us out of here and park us where we'll have a good view?"
Laughing, Sue said solicitously, "Sure, Ed. No problem."
As the flitter began retracing its path in the tunnel, Barbara asked Alanah, "Does he talk to himself a lot?"
"I was talking to my pilot," I said, "Note that we're heading for the surface now."
Peering ahead, Barbara muttered, "Coulda fooled me. Your pilot, huh? You mean the flitter's computer?"
Reaching beside the console, I flipped the lid of my cooler open and said, "Yeah, something like that. Give it a minute, LT. You'll see the light at the end of the tunnel. There's tea, beer, and dr pepper. What'll you have?"
That the cooler had been invisible didn't startle Alanah, of course, but Barbara eyed the ice and drinks that appeared from nowhere for a long moment before asking for a can of tea.
"Sure you don't want a beer?" I asked.
Her gaze met mine briefly, then she shook her head.
"Maybe later, when all this is over."
She had a lovely face and hazel eyes and a nice, warm contralto voice that betrayed not a hint of angst.
I glanced at Alanah and said, "I think I like her."
Grinning, Alanah replied, "That's not too surprising. I'll have a tea, too."
"Coming right up, milady," I said, handing her one. "Have you told her anything about me?"
Shaking her head, Alanah said, "Not yet. When are you going to let Steve wake up?"
"Now, if you want. Flitter, let Steve wake up, please."
"Yes, sir."
Alanah glanced at the console and asked, "'Flitter?' Not Stephanie?"
"Nope. Steph's been on her own for months. An AI named Sue took her place, but I wanted some autonomy about controlling the flitter."
Looking around meaningfully, she asked, "Sue?"
"You'll meet her soon. She's in the middle of something right now. Steph and Elkor are here, too."
Barbara asked, "Who... What are they doing?"
"Evacuating the bunker. I'll let Sue tell you about it. Right now I should probably check in with Linda. She gets all tensed up if I don't keep her apprised of every little detail, y'know."
Laughing, Alanah said, "Sure she does," as she sat back.
When I called up a field screen, Barbara jolted back in her seat and stared hard at it. Alanah snickered as I poked Linda's flapping lips icon. A moment later, Linda answered.
"Hi, Ed." Seeing at the others, she added, "Hi, Alanah. Lieutenant Klass. Ed, where are the others?"
"In the back," I said. "I partitioned the flitter. Three's company, but six is too distracting when you're trying to impress the boss. I'll let 'em loose in a few minutes."
"Any casualties?"
"Nope. Everybody's fine. We're heading back to the surface now. Has Sue told you what we decided to do?"
With a quizzical look, Linda glanced meaningfully toward Barbara and asked me, "You aren't using the water idea?"
"Nope. I decided that making a lake would be too good for them, so we're going with steam. There's going to be a godzilla cloud over the area between three and four. Thought you might like to know about it in case anyone thinks it's nuclear."
Linda laughed. "Yeah, some people might think that."
Barbara broke in with, "Excuse me, but what the hell are you talking about? What steam?"
I pointed downward and said, "There's a lake under this mountain. We were going to flood the place, but I decided against it. Not dramatic enough. When we're finished, there won't be a mountain."
For a moment, Barbara looked as if she thought I was crazy, then she turned to Alanah, who met her gaze in a matter-of-fact manner. After another moment, Barbara turned to Linda.
"This guy really thinks he can make a mountain disappear?"
With a straight face, Linda said, "Apparently so. We're going to humor him and let him try. Can't hurt, can it?"
Alanah laughed, caught the disbelieving look on Barbara's face, and laughed again.
When Barbara's look turned to me, I said, "And mimsy were the borogoves, ma'am. Three of them, in fact. Borogoves, that is, not mimsies. Big green ones."
Linda grinned and Alanah snickered. Barbara blinked at me and her gaze narrowed with irritation.
"Hey, it shouldn't be too difficult," I said, "Sue's going to do most of the heavy lifting."
Barbara returned a sharp, "Sue again! Who the hell is Sue?! Where the hell is Sue?"
Appearing by the console, Sue said, "I'm Sue," as Barbara shrieked and unassed her seat, assuming a defensive posture with her back to the barrier dividing the flitter and leaving a trail of tea from the crushed can in her left hand.
To Linda and me, Sue said, "We expect to be ready in a bit more than an hour," then she vanished again.
I looked at the tea trail on the deck and said, "Flitter, one of your passengers just had a little accident with a can of tea. Would you clean the deck, please?"
"Yes, sir."
The tea vanished as neatly as Sue had. I stood up and went to gently take Barbara's arm to guide her back to her seat.
Recoiling slightly, she snapped, "Hands off! I can manage!"
Raising my hands, I said, "Relax. I thought you were still spooked, that's all. It was intended as a gesture of support."
In only a slightly gentler tone, she said, "When I need that kind of support, I'll tell you."
"Uh, huh. Well, in that case, ma'am, lose the attitude or you'll be riding in the back of this bus with the others."
I returned to my seat and said to Linda, "Anyway, that's the new plan, Fearless Leader. It should be a real good show, so do be sure to tune in, don'tchaknow."
She nodded and smiled. "Will do, Dragonfly. I'll make sure a few other people see it, too. Is there anything else?"
"Not a thing at the moment."
"Okay, bye," she said, and poked her 'off' icon.
Daylight ahead became brighter and we abruptly left the tunnel into bright sunshine. I told the flitter to drop the barrier and Barbara -- who'd been leaning on it -- nearly fell into the arms of one of the startled guys in the back.
Flipping the cooler lid open, I asked, "Who wants a drink?"
For a moment they simply stood staring at me, then Steve puffed himself up and angrily advanced as he growled, "Who the hell are you and why did you stun me?"
I sent a numbing tendril to tap his knee. Steve grabbed a seat back to stay on his feet as his knee folded.
"Cool it or I'll zap you out again. We were in a hurry. I told you to jump down to the flitter and you didn't do it."
Gesturing at the other two guys, I said, "But they didn't have any trouble with it." Thumbing at the ladies, I added, "Neither did they. Just you."
Gesturing at the cooler, I said, "And now that's all behind us and the bar's open, so let's relax and get comfy. We'll head home after the show."
Steve said, "I still want to know who you are."
The guy standing by Frank asked, "What show?"
"I'm Ed," I said to Steve. "That's all you need. First names only for now."
"I'm Carl, then," said the guy by Frank. "What show?"
"The bunker mountain is going to blow up."
Frank's eyes bugged. As he hurried forward, he hissed, "What?!" Stopping a seat away from mine, he asked, "Blow up? Are we talking about a nuclear weapon?"
"Nope. Take it easy. Just steam, no radiation. The cooler's about to close. If you're gonna get a drink, grab it now."
Steve blustered, "Now, look, you... We demand to know..."
Standing up, I said, "No, you look. I was asked to get you out of there and do something about the place. Now you're out and something is being done, so grab a drink, take a seat, and stop bugging me."
With that, I headed for the rear of the deck and told the flitter to put the barrier back up before anyone could follow. I can't really say why I wasn't in the mood to chat. Maybe it was only because they were a pack of embassy pogues.
I've never had much patience for the striped-pants guys. They tend to think they need to know every little thing and have a big hand in all decisions, even though their true function seems to be passing the buck of responsibility to just about anyone else foolish enough to take it.
If you're ever in trouble overseas, make sure you have some favorable media coverage when you go to the embassy for help. It's the only way you can be sure to get any action, especially if your trouble is politically inconvenient.
The two rifles lay on the deck on the belts and ammo pouches. One was an AK-47. The other was an AK-74, essentially the same weapon with some improvements and slightly different ammo. I noted that the '74 had the same funky, backward-style selector lever as the old '47.
I picked up the '74 and checked the magazine. Full, and there were eight more mags in the ammo pouches on the web belt. Amazing. A bottom-floor guard with four full ammo pouches. Same for the belt that came with the '47. These people sure seemed to love their toys.
Sue appeared beside me and rather archly said, "There are over twenty-seven hundred such rifles in the bunker. Why aren't those in the bunker, as well?"
"I tossed them down the hole during the scuffle, Mother. Don't worry, I won't blow a toe off. Been up front yet?"
"No, I thought you might like to be present when I introduce myself and conduct the rest of this operation."
Giving her a grin and a shrug, I said, "I'll even applaud and whistle for you if the cloud reaches forty thousand feet or so. How soon is showtime?"
"About another hour. Elkor is transporting some ill and injured prisoners to a hospital in Ankara, Turkey."
"What about the bunker personnel?"
"We're putting them in a soccer field in Yazd." She gestured behind us and asked, "Why the barrier?"
Shrugging again, I said, "I didn't want to deal with 'em. Now that you're here to handle crowd control, I guess the barrier isn't all that necessary."
Sue made the barrier vanish. The five people who'd been talking among themselves saw tall, gorgeous Sue in her little black dress and me holding an AK-74.
Alanah's left eyebrow went up as she eyed Sue. Barbara's eyes locked on the rifle in my hands. She instantly developed an alarmed expression and went rigid. Frank and Steve simply gaped at us and Carl slowly raised his hands slightly as if to show they were empty.
"Jesus," I muttered, "What a bunch of putzes." Aloud, I said, "Everybody, this is Sue. Introduce yourselves." Turning to Sue I asked, "Think you could spare me some targets?"
"How many and how distant?"
"Oh, half a dozen at varying ranges out to about a hundred yards off the stern. No point in long shots; this rifle may never have been zeroed."
Sue took the rifle from me, seemed to aim at nothing in the sky, and fired one round. She touched the rear sight of the rifle and made it click twice, then handed the rifle to me.
With a grin, she said, "It's zeroed now," and picked up the other rifle.
"Thanks, milady. You're very talented, you know."
She fired a round and tweaked the sights, then set the rifle down as she said, "I do try to give that impression. Your targets are one foot in diameter. If you hit one, it'll flash."
Looking beyond the end of the deck, I saw six black dots floating behind us.
"If I hit one?"
"Yes. If."
"If you had any money, I'd bet you."
"Well, if you paid me, I'd have money, wouldn't I?"
"Oh, gimme a break, lady. You can root up gold and diamonds with Steph and I don't need the tax hassles that would go with employing an undocumented alien who isn't even human. Now go introduce your gorgeous self to your adoring public. And thanks for the targets."
The nearest target was about sixty feet away. I leveled the rifle at waist height, eyeballed the shot, and fired twice. The black ball flashed once. I gave Sue a smug grin, then raised the rifle and got serious about hitting the other targets as she went to the front to meet and greet our passengers.
As I plinked at the targets, Barbara came to stand on my left and watch, counting my hits. When I ran dry and put in a fresh mag, I quietly eased the selector lever to the 'safety' position, then handed the rifle to her.
"Fourteen hits," she said, taking the rifle with very apparent confidence, "Not bad at all... for a civilian."
Marine or not, it was obvious that she hadn't handled an AK very often, if at all. She raised the rifle, aimed at the nearest black dot, and squeezed the trigger.
Nothing happened, of course, and for a moment she seemed surprised as hell as well as mystified. She jacked the bolt open a bit to make sure a round had loaded, then let it shut and gave it an extra bump to make sure it seated firmly.
After glancing at the selector, she raised the rifle, aimed and squeezed the trigger, and again nothing happened. This time she swore softly and examined the rifle more closely.
I reached to flick the selector lever and said, "Try it now, ma'am. The switch is backward from what you're used to."
She gave me a seriously dirty look and again raised the rifle. This time it fired and the target flashed. She hit eleven more before she ran out of ammo.
As I took the rifle back and slapped in a full mag, Barbara said, "That thing's too heavy. I still prefer the CAR-15. Why aren't we using both rifles?"
I gestured at the other rifle. "Go for it."
While she checked the '47's magazine, I flicked my selector to automatic and aimed at the third target out from the flitter. It's fun to fire any rifle on automatic, but I'd always preferred the slower cyclic rate of the AK over that of the M-16.
On the other hand, accuracy suffers. Only two of the rounds hit the target as the AK hammered itself dry. Automatic fire may be scary as hell for oncoming troops and may be fairly useful for inspiring caution in charging hordes, but it's pathetically ineffective against single stationary targets.
Barbara grinned up at me and shook her head.
"I know," I said. "I just felt like squandering a few rounds."
"Well, you definitely did that. Two hits. That sucks."
"Put yours on oughtagetit and try to do better, lady."
She did, hitting the same target three times.
"Three hits, we have a winner!" I said like a corn-pone carnival huckster, "You just pick yourself any little ol' thing that catches your fancy off'n the top shelf, little lady. Any little ol' thing at all."
Grinning, Barbara reached into an ammo pouch for another mag and slapped it into her rifle. "You call me 'little lady' again and I'll hurt you. Too bad they aren't moving targets. Then we'd see who's the shooter here."
"Think so, huh?" I keyed my implant. "Sue? Did you hear that? She thinks moving targets would be more fun."
Barbara gave me an odd look as Sue said, "Done," and the targets began bobbling around, moving several of their diameters in pretty much any direction at random.
"Thanks, milady."
To Barbara, I said, "There you go. Fire when ready, LT."
She stared thoughtfully at me for another moment, then turned to aim and fire. Between shots, she spoke.
"How do you do that?" Bang. "Talk to her, I mean." Bang. "She's way up front..." Bang. "And you were almost whispering." Bang.
When she glanced up at me, I said, "That's classified, LT," and noddingly indicated the targets.
A few shots later, she switched to the hundred-yard target and popped it once before she ran out of ammo.
"It's harder than it looks," she said. "Are you allowed to tell me anything about... well... like who you are, who you're with, or anything else like that?"
"Guess I could," I said, raising my rifle, "But there's no point, is there? When this is over, you'll be back on duty and I'll be back in the States."
"I was thinking about maybe getting together later."
Giving her an apologetic grin, I said, "Sorry. I already have a couple of girlfriends, ma'am."
Looking vastly skeptical, she asked, "A couple?"
"Yup. It's just them and me." With a shrug, I added, "Or just them, if I'm not there. That sort of thing."
With a chuckle, she set the muzzle of her AK on the deck and leaned on the butt. "I see." Chuckling again, she said, "Just so you know, I kind of have a boyfriend and don't need a new one. I was just thinking we could... never mind."
Uh, huh. People don't say 'never mind' like that when they mean it. I fired my AK dry, then sat on the edge of the deck and sipped my coffee before reaching for another magazine.
Barbara came to look over the side. She took her low-heeled pumps off and set them aside, then very carefully sat down beside me, staring down past her toes at the ground.
"How... uh, how high are we?"
"About a quarter of a mile, looks like."
I pointed at some people who were milling around below us, well to our left. Some of Sue's evacuees? No way to tell... wait one. A car and a canvas-back truck came barrelling across the narrow valley toward the people.
The car slid to a halt in a cloud of dust that drifted over the crowd, then five people jumped out of it as the truck stopped near the car. About thirty soldiers got out of the truck and spread out around the crowd, herding the people into a cluster.
A couple of the soldiers grabbed someone from the crowd and brought him to the guys by the car. Some moments later one of the guys hit him and knocked him flat. The two soldiers kept him covered with rifles as another person was singled out.
Whups. Not 'covered'. The body jerked twice, then the two soldiers turned away from the unmoving man on the ground and stood by as the next guy took a couple of punches and fell. The soldiers aimed rifles at him as the guy who'd hit him stepped up and kicked him.
It was a rough interrogation session, probably sparked by what was going on inside the bunker. Whatever. I slapped the new magazine into my rifle, jacked a round into the chamber, and aimed at the car, allowing a fat aiming guesstimate to compensate for our height.
Three quick rounds later, the soldiers were diving for cover, the interrogators were hunkered beside the car, and a guard who'd thrown himself flat on the ground got up and ran. I shot at him, but at that range, I didn't really expect a hit.
Barbara loaded her rifle. One of the guys hunkered by the car got up and ran and she tracked him with round after round. She kept him going for over a minute, peppering him with near misses as he changed direction a few times and continued running. When he fell right after a shot, I thought she'd hit him, but then he got up and hauled ass again.
"Damn," muttered Barbara. "Thought I got him."
I watched three guys pile into the car and drive away in a big hurry as I said, "Me, too. Maybe you clipped him," and fired at the car.
"I'd settle for that, from way up here," said Barbara.
"Me, too." My next round hit the car's back windshield. I could tell because it stopped reflecting a stark sunspot. Soldiers ran for the truck or the surrounding rocks. The truck began moving and soon matched the car's speed.
Barbara fired three more times at her guy before her bolt racked open for lack of a next round. The guy suddenly fell flat and Barbara became very attentive. Nope. He got up again.
"Goddammit," she muttered. "Thought sure I got him."
"Here," I said, handing her my rifle. "I was having fun just watching you run his ass all over the desert."
Barbara grinningly swapped rifles with me and fired at the guy again, emptying the magazine. The last we saw of the guy, he was running hard into the cover of a deep ravine.
"Well, shit," said Barbara, handing my rifle back. "You'd think at least one of my shots would have hit him."
I laid the rifles on the other gear on the deck and shrugged.
"No biggie. At least we broke up the klan meeting." Getting to my feet, I helped her stand up and said, "It's later now. You want that beer we talked about?"
"There are two magazines left."
"Save 'em for another 'later'."
The black, bobbing targets disappeared as she slipped on her shoes and said, "Sure. Sounds good."
We headed to the cooler past the others, who stared at us in silence as I pulled two beers out and opened them.
Holding up my bottle, I said, "To us. At least we tried."
Clinking her bottle on mine, Barbara said, "Damned right."
As we sipped, Frank and Steve headed toward the rifles. I whispered, "Flitter, isolate those rifles again, please."
The flitter computer whispered back, "Yes, sir," which made all the ladies snicker and giggle. Frank's effort to touch the rifles made them laugh softly, and Steve's more determined effort made their laughter louder.
Barbara sat to the left of the pilot's seat as I sat down and put my feet up on the console. The seat to the right was empty, but she'd automatically taken the left seat. She'd parked herself on my left at the back of the flitter, too. I hadn't seen military manners for quite a while.
Steve came to stand by Barbara's seat and tersely asked, "Lieutenant Klass, why were you shooting at those people?"
Before she could say anything, I snapped, "Why aren't you asking me? I started shooting at them first."
His irritated gaze turned to me.
"You aren't on the embassy staff, sir."
"Good point. Tell ya what, Steve; we interrupted an interrogation and a murder. They'd already killed one guy and grabbed another one."
"And you just decided to take it upon yourself to stop them, even though you had no official authorization to do so?"
"Yup. Sure did. Maybe you diplomatic types can ignore stuff like that, but I don't, and she wouldn't be much of a Marine if she'd just sat and watched. Now, do you want me to put your bureaucratic ass to sleep until we get to Germany?"
Steve huffed up and yelled, "Do you even know who you're talking to?! Do you have any idea at all?!"
Fuck him. I stunned him hard and watched him fall, then told the flitter to move him to the rear deck and keep him asleep until further notice.
"Yes, sir," said the flitter computer, lifting Steve and floating him toward the rear.
Alanah rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly as Barbara simply stared at Steve for a moment, then at me.
Sue said, "We're ready, Ed."
"Thanks, Sue. Have you already told Linda or do you want me to tell her?"
"I haven't. You may if you wish."
"Nah. It's your show. You get the honor."
She laughed softly and popped up a blank field screen. Linda's face appeared a moment later. She smiled slightly as she said hello to the assembly, then her gaze narrowed as she saw Steve lying on the deck.
Before she could ask about him, I said, "He had an attitude problem. Got loud and rowdy and rank-conscious."
Her left eyebrow went up. "Would everybody there agree that stunning him was necessary?"
"I didn't take a vote on it. Sue has an announcement."
Linda's eyes flicked to Sue, who said simply, "We'll commence in exactly five minutes."
Nodding, Linda said, "Three-thirty on the dot. Thanks, Sue. I'll pass the word."
Leaning slightly out of the screen for a moment, Linda told someone to spread the news, then faced us again. Before she could speak, someone called her name from her left.
"Gotta go," she said. "Ring me back if anything comes up."
With that, she tapped her 'off' icon. Sue made the field screen disappear. I told the flitter to put a countdown display on the console screen and wake up Steve.
The effect of theta waves is instantaneous, as is their cessation. Steve sat up, shook his head and blinked at us, then glared at me and opened his mouth as if about to say something likely to be rather caustic.
"Steve," I said, "Whatever you're about to say, don't. The bunker mountain'll blow up in a few minutes. If you want to be awake to see it happen, take a seat and be quiet."
His glare continued, but he came forward to sit beside Carl. Everyone's eyes switched back and forth from the console to the mountain in front of us for some moments before Frank spoke.
"Uhm, shouldn't we be a little farther away?"
"No," I said, tossing my beer bottle over the side. It flashed to plasma when it hit the exterior field, which startled the hell out of all the passengers except Alanah.
Sue said, "We're six miles from the mountain."
Through my implant, she said, "Steph and Elkor bored a number of tunnels to the surface. We'll begin by transmuting the interior rather than the surface."
Keying my implant, I stood up and walked back to nudge the rifles and gear with my toe as I quietly replied, "Sounds good, ma'am. That'll let Linda and company make up any story they want about how the job was done."
"That's the idea."
"Just for the record, milady, I think you're pretty special. Most of the ladies I've known couldn't blow up a mountain."
With a snicker, Sue said, "Gee, thanks, mister. I hope I've spoiled you for all other women."
"Nah. Steph did that. Sorry you weren't my first."
Barbara rose from her seat and walked toward me.
When she got close, she whispered, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I was just having a quiet talk with Sue. You want one of these rifles?"
She looked at them and shrugged. "I doubt they'd let me keep it. What are you going to do with them?"
"Toss 'em overboard."
"Uh... you mean like the beer bottle?"
"Yup. Want to fire off the last of the ammo right quick?"
Glancing back at Steve, she said, "No, I guess not. I may already have some explaining to do about shooting."
"Fuck him." I picked up the '74, slapped in a magazine and racked the bolt, set it to automatic, and pulled the trigger.
The rifle emptied itself into the air behind the flitter, then I tossed it upward. When it hit the perimeter field, it flashed brilliantly and vanished.
Handing the other rifle to Barbara, I said, "Your turn," and reached for the last magazine in the belt pouch.
She took the rifle and magazine with a big grin, set the selector to automatic, and held the trigger until the bolt locked open for lack of another round.
After studying the weapon for a few moments, she grasped it firmly by the muzzle and heaved it upward to watch it flash to plasma as mine had.
"Damn," she said softly. "That is so cool."
Handing her one of the web belts, I said, "These go too. If ol' Steve gets snotty later, he'll do it without any evidence."
Barbara grinned and we threw our belts to bright oblivion together as she said, "He'll still have witnesses, if he wants to push it."
I shrugged. "You wanna throw the guys overboard? I don't think the ladies will rat on you and I certainly won't."
Laughing, Barbara said, "I'll think about it. We'd better get back to our seats or we'll miss the big event."
Looking at the mountain ahead of us, I said, "Oh, I think we'd be able to see it well enough from here," but I walked with her back to our seats.
The screen countdown had reached thirty-four. We received some stares as we sat down and I reached for my coffee by the console pedestal. Popping the lid off, I sent a warming field into it for a few seconds, then put the lid back and sipped.
There was an air of tense anticipation aboard the flitter as all eyes focused either on the mountain or the timer. Frank began softly counting with the timer at ten, his gazed fixed on the mountain. It was so cliche I almost told him to shut up.
At exactly zero, vast gouts of steam shot from tunnel entrances around the base of the mountain. Thick clouds formed that nearly obscured the lower half the mountain, then more gouts of steam blasted out of the top.
A column of stark whiteness about two miles wide rose quickly above the area. Unlike a nuclear blast, no ring formed around the column; it was simply one tall blast of steam that raced upward to the heavens.
Various exclamations of amazement came from the others aboard for some moments, then Sue caused '40,000 ft.' to appear on the screen. I looked at her and she mimed clapping and whistling with a big grin.
Oh. That. Well, I'd said I would, so I started applauding and whistled. When Barbara and the others gave me curious looks, I gestured at Sue and continued applauding with a grin. Barbara laughed and joined me, as did Alanah. I whistled again and yelled, "Way to go!" at Sue. She took a small bow just to one side of our view of the steam geyser.
Less than five minutes later, there was no mountain left. The last of the superheated steam withdrew swiftly upward from the gap where the mountain had been, allowing us to see the neatly-carved notch created by the generators.
Both sides and the floor of the gap were absolutely flat and looked almost polished. A truly huge 3rd World Products logo had been crisply carved into the damply-glistening bottom of the notch.
"Going up," said Sue, and the flitter quickly rose until it was above the top of the geyser, which was flattening and spreading for miles in all directions. I looked over the side and saw that, even at that altitude, the logo in the notch below was clearly visible. Satellites would have no trouble seeing it.
Keying my implant, I asked, "Steph? Elkor? Are you busy, or can you drop in for a while?"
Stephanie and Elkor appeared; Elkor on top of the console as usual and Steph standing beside him in a jacket-skirt outfit composed of attractive shades of deep green.
Ignoring the reactions of the others aboard the flitter, I rose to take Steph's hand and kissed her knuckles as I said, "Well done, milady. Excellent work." To Elkor, I said, "You three have performed what certain people may regard as almost a divine miracle. In any case, it was one hell of an example to the countries that support terrorism. They now know that they stand to lose serious amounts of landscape if they grab the wrong people. Damned fine job, everybody."
Elkor said, "Thank you, Ed," and Steph grinned as she took a small bow and chose a seat beside Barbara.
As I returned to my own seat, I saw everyone aboard staring at Steph, Elkor, or both, and made introductions.
"Our visitors are Stephanie," I gestured at her, "And Elkor," I gestured at him. "They helped Sue with the mountain."
Pointing quickly at each of the human passengers in turn, I said their names and ended facing Sue.
"What now, milady? Is there anything left to do here?"
Shaking her head, she said, "No. We can leave for Germany any time you wish."
Glancing around, I said, "Sounds good. These people could probably use some TLC. Flitter, take us to the helipad at the Landstuhl hospital, please. Standard flight parameters."
"Yes, sir."
Because the flight was more than a few hundred miles, the flitter launched us forward at maximum speed. Although we were moving at more than thirty-eight hundred miles per hour, our altitude made it hard to determine more than the fact that we were moving pretty fast.
Barbara touched my shoulder to get my attention and very quietly said, "Uh... she brought her cat..?"
Elkor said, "No, Lieutenant Klass. I am not Stephanie's cat. This is simply my preferred form."
Her openmouthed stare at him continued, but she nodded as if she understood, then her gaze turned to Steph, who chuckled and said, "That's quite true. He's not my cat."
Calling up a field screen, I tapped Linda's icon and waited a few moments until she answered. Her face appeared and although she was obviously happy, she seemed somewhat shocked. Her eyes went from Sue to Steph, then to me.
"Well, ma'am?" I asked, "How was it?"
"Ah... the data is still coming in, but I was watching over a satellite link and a local camera feed we tapped. My God, people. Even though I knew you could do it, actually seeing it happen was... well, astonishing, to say the least."
"You saw what they left at the bottom?"
Her expression became a bright, happy grin.
"We sure did! That was an excellent touch!"
Something pulled her eyes to one side for a moment and she nodded, then faced us again and sighed.
"They say it's lonely at the top, but if that were true I'd have a few uninterrupted minutes to chat with you. We'll catch up after things quiet down. Steph. Elkor. Sue. Ed. That was fantastic! Wonderful! Thank you for all you've done today. Is there anything I need to know before I go?"
"Nothing else," I said. "Nobody will find any radiation or toxins at the site. We're all fine and on the way to Germany. You might want to tell Danvers that and remind her not to get all carried away with hardware and procedures."
Linda laughed. "Yeah, she called me right after you hung up on her. I told her to accept whatever you and Sue told her about the situation as gospel." Glancing off to the side again, she said, "Incoming bureaucrats. Gotta go now. Bye!"
She hit her 'off' icon without waiting for a reply. I let the screen vanish and turned to Steph.
"Gee, lady, you're as lovely as ever."
Smiling, she said, "Thank you."
"Did you have fun blowing up that rockpile?"
Her left eyebrow went up and she said simply, "Yes."
Turning to Elkor, I asked, "How about you? Was it fun?"
He canted his cat face slightly and replied, "It was somewhat entertaining, although rather a waste of energy."
"That's how it is with most all things that are fun to do."
Looking at Sue, I asked, "And you, milady? Did steam-cleaning that mountain away do anything for you?"
Sue gave me a wry look and said, "I'm with Elkor; it was a somewhat entertaining waste of energy."
Elkor asked, "May I ask why this example of retaliation was apparently meant to protect only 3rd World personnel?"
"Well, it wasn't really. It may seem that way, but here's how it works with primitives, Elkor; first you get their attention, their respect, and even their fear, then you tell them how it's going to be. There's no damned point at all in trying to reason with drunks, druggies, or political and religious nuts. You have to make them believe that you thoroughly outweigh whatever the hell is motivating them. If today's mountain message got through to the countries that are sponsoring terrorism, we should know fairly quickly. They'll be looking to get clean, which means a lot of terrorists will be looking for new training facilities and places to roost between jobs."
Carl said, "Uhm, excuse me, but won't that just put them on the run? Isn't it hard enough to find them and arrest them?"
"It's a lot harder to spot them when they're hiding quietly. The minute they move, the risk of exposure and recognition increases exponentially with every public appearance for any reason, even if it's just to go from a building to a car. Watchers are just about everywhere these days, and if a country faces a choice of losing big chunks of real estate or dumping terrorists, I think they'll vote against the terrorists."
"Not all of them," said Carl, "Not at first, anyway. It could take a long time to convince them that they'll get caught."
"Then maybe next time we'll zap some farmland. Or fill in a seaport or plug some oil wells. Or something else that'll make a big dent in their world and their wallets. We don't have to kill people, either. A few dozen sponsoring nations could suddenly find themselves destitute, and that would mean more to the leaders than losing any number of their soldiers or civilians."
Turning to Sue, I asked, "Could you -- that's 'could' you -- manufacture enough counterfeit currency -- electronic and cash -- to bankrupt a nation?"
Without the slightest hesitation, she noddingly said, "Yes."
"Now, under what circumstances would you do that?"
"By currently existing laws, none."
"What if the laws change to allow it?"
Looking at me rather archly, she said, "What's legal isn't always necessarily morally correct."
"Suppose I came up with the right reasons. How long would it take to confuse and bankrupt the economy of, say, Syria?"
"A week or so should do it."
"A week?!" exclaimed Frank. "That's all?"
Sue nodded. "Possibly less."
I asked, "Are various Middle-Eastern nations currently engaged in counterfeiting large volumes of US dollars?"
"Yes. Four of them."
"Then I submit that fair's fair."
"Not for the people who'd starve."
Sighing, I shrugged at Barbara. "See? She has an answer for everything. It's a wonder I ever get to have any fun." Glancing at her wrist, I added, "Are you ever gonna give Alanah's watch back to her?"
She blinked at me and glanced at her wrist, then looked at me again and asked, "How did you know..?" as she slipped the watch off and handed it to Alanah.
"Just did."
Alanah laughed softly and thanked her as they traded watches. I noticed Barbara's tiny diamond-stud earrings and the gold ring on her right ring finger, then looked at the other people we'd rescued. Two men wore gold rings. All of them wore watches. I wondered aloud why their guards hadn't taken the watches and jewelry.
Shaking her head, Alanah said, "No idea, Ed. We were taken from our car and herded into other vehicles, then put aboard a plane and brought here. Until we reached the bunker, we were all kept together, then we were put in separate cells. They took our purses and the mens' wallets, but not our jewelry."
"That seems more than a little odd to me."
Nodding, she said, "And to me."
Barbara said, "I heard one man tell the others that anyone who so much as touched us without orders would be killed."
"Just you and Alanah, or the guys, too?"
"All of us, I think. I only caught the gist of it; I only had the quick-orientation language course when I arrived last year."
Hm. Had someone known what might happen? Or had the whole kidnapping incident been a setup to make an excuse for a demonstration? People had been killed during the snatch; I couldn't see the Linda of today sanctioning something like that, but maybe others had put a setup together?
The matter of watches and jewelry not having been taken wouldn't escape the notice of the people who'd debrief our passengers. I decided to leave the mystery to them.
"Oh, well," I said as I stood up. "Somebody else can figure it out. I'm going to make a field potty. Anybody interested?"
"A field potty?" asked Frank.
"Yup. Stand by one. Flitter, please make a pair of field potties for our guests."
The computer said, "Yes, sir," and two wide gray columns appeared at the rear of the flitter.
Taking a roll of toilet paper and some hand-wipe towelettes from the console and walking to one of the columns, I said, "You just step into the column and do your thing. There's a field-generated commode inside. No need to flush; that happens when you step out of the potty."
With that, I set the toilet paper and all but one of the towelettes down and walked through the wall of the column. A few moments later I stepped out to find Barbara missing from the group. It figured she'd be first to try something new. After wiping my hands, I tossed the wrapper and towel over the side to flash and vanish.
Carl came over to tentatively push a hand into the column and marvel that he lost sight of the hand instantly. He then just as tentatively eased himself inside the column.
I headed back to my seat and stood sipping coffee as I considered the idea of a setup again. Steph gave me a studious look, then said through my implant, "You think something's odd about the kidnapping."
It was a statement, not a question, and I knew she'd shared it with Sue and Elkor. I looked at her as I nodded and silently mouthed, "Yup."
"We do, too. We're looking into it."
Nodding again, I said quietly, "Good."
Barbara came out of the potty and Alanah went in. Carl came out of his and swapped comments about the experience with Barbara as Frank went in. Funny. I'd have figured excitable Steve to be the first one to need the john.
Moving to stand by Steve, I said quietly, "Going up in a flitter is no biggie, but when it dives for the ground in a few minutes, you might wish you'd gone to the bathroom first."
He stiffened and glowered at me for a moment, then said, "I was just waiting for everyone else."
With a slight nod, I said, "Okay. Just thinking ahead, is all," and moved back to my seat.
When Frank came out of his column, Steve went to it and studied it closely, testing the wall with a hand as Carl had before easing through the wall.
It somewhat maliciously occurred to me to tell the flitter to make the columns disappear, but I decided not to. Barbara's peering gaze caught mine and she seemed to catch my thoughts.
She glanced at Steve's column and bit her lip as she softly chuckled, "Are you maybe thinking about making his column, uhm... disappear or something?"
Nodding, I quietly answered, "Yup."
"Would you do that to him?"
"Already decided not to."
She snickered. "I'd love to see it. He's such a jerk."
"His type doesn't live things down well. He wouldn't be able to hassle me, but you'd be close at hand."
"Only until I transferred."
Shaking my head, I said, "You never know what they say about you that they don't put in the records. He already hates me for stunning him. We don't need to give him a reason to hate you, too, if he doesn't already have one."
When we were five minutes from Landstuhl, I told the flitter to drop stealth mode so we'd show up on radar and called Danvers on a field screen.
She answered with a terse, "Yes?"
I said, "We'll be there in about five minutes," and turned off the screen.
We began descending as Steve rejoined us and took his seat. I waited to see how everyone would handle a landing under 'standard flight parameters'.
Alanah leaned slightly forward to look at me and I gave her an innocent look and a dumb smile. She shook her head, rolled her eyes, and sat back upright.
Frank was the first to notice that our altitude had changed. Looking over the side, he started to say, "Hey, are we going..." then his eyes got big as he clutched his seat and stared at the uprushing patchwork world.
Carl and Steve were sitting farther from the edge. When they noticed Frank's angst, they gave each other questioning glances and stood up to see what he was seeing.
I put my feet up and sipped my coffee. Barbara peered quizzically beyond me at the guys, then looked over the side on her side of the flitter.
For a moment she froze and clutched her seat. I saw her pulse pounding in her neck and heard her breathing go shallow, then she seemed to gain control of herself and sat upright to look at me.
Sipping my coffee again, I smiled and flicked my eyebrows at her. Barbara's gaze traveled from my propped-up legs to my face, then she took a quiet, deep breath and looked over the side again.
"Damn," she breathed, willing her fingers to let go of her seat, "This thing really moves, doesn't it?"
As a big white building became more visible below and we quickly settled to Earth on a big white 'X' in a circle some distance from it, I sipped the last of my coffee, stood up, and said, "Yup. It sure does."
Two Army HumVees and two ambulances were parked nearby and there were probably a dozen people moving toward the flitter, some with cameras.
I said, "Flitter, put your shields up, please. Nobody gets aboard without an invitation."
The flitter said, "Yes, sir," as a gray-tinted barrier formed around it. Those hurrying toward us reined in and approached a bit more cautiously.
As they began touching and trying to reach into the flitter's field, Steph said, "I'll take my leave now. It's been nice meeting everyone."
"Thanks for all the help," I said, "I think Alanah may be the only one among our passengers who really knows just how much you helped during this little adventure."
Barbara bumped my arm and said, "I do. Well, at least I think I do." She extended a hand to Steph and said, "Sort of. And even if I don't, thank you very much, Stephanie. You, too, Elkor. I'm not sure what you all did, but I'm absolutely sure you did something."
Steph chuckled as Elkor said, "You're welcome, Lieutenant Klass."
"Barbara, please."
Nodding his little cat head, Elkor said, "Barbara, then."
Alanah also took Steph's hand, and I heard her softly, smilingly say, "My, how you've grown since the last time we met, Stephanie. You've done very well, indeed."
Turning to Elkor, she said, "It's been nice to see you again, too, Elkor. Thank you for coming to our aid."
Giving her a slight nod of his head, Elkor replied, "You're very welcome, Alanah."
To me, Alanah said, "And you, Ed. Thanks. If I weren't married and if Ellen hadn't told me why you two parted, I might be interested, you know."
"Sorry, ma'am, but there are still no kids in my future. But if you ever get free of your current old man, I'd be proud and happy to help you practice for the next one."
She snickered and said, "I'm sure you would," then kissed my cheek and took my hand as she stepped off the flitter.
When I turned from handing Alanah down, Barbara said, "I can't believe you said that to her."
"Why not? I've known her longer than you have, and I meant every word of it."
"Oh, no damned doubt about that. I saw you staring at her a few times."
"Politely gazing intently, ma'am, not staring. Jealous? Want me to look at you like that, too?"
"Hell, no." She shrugged. "There's no time for it now, anyway. Will a simple 'thanks' cover everything?"
"Sure. I never charge extra for officers. They don't take up much more space than enlisteds when they're out of uniform."
It was apparently an awkward moment for her, for whatever reasons. She seemed to want to say or do something more.
I took her hand and kissed it in a courtly manner, then softly said, "Just say goodbye, LT. Hop down there and go lead some embassy troops or something. If I'm real lucky, I'll see you again sometime."
She bit her lip and smiled, then nodded and stepped down as I -- very likely unnecessarily -- steadied her descent.
Only Frank and Carl were still on my deck, making their goodbyes with Sue, Steph, and Elkor. Steve was talking rather animatedly to Lena Danvers some distance from the flitter.
Joining the little group by the console, I waited for Frank to finish saying something about Steph's 'great outfit', then said, "Well, guys, this is it. All ashore, and like that."
We shook hands and chatted for a few moments more, then they also stepped down to be taken in tow by Danvers and her people. I reached for my coffee mug by the console.
"Steph, Elkor, thanks for all your help and -- if I have things right -- thanks for letting Sue run the op today. The job was a complete success and it'll look damned good on her resume."
All of them seemed momentarily mystified. Sue looked as if she might be somewhat prepared to be irritated.
"What?" I asked. "That wasn't a joke, people. Anytime you get a chance to take some honest credit for something, you should damned well take it. You may be vastly more capable beings, but you're interfacing with humans who usually have no concept at all of just how much 'more capable' you are. Being able to flash up a track record is a good thing."
Sue seemed to relax and Steph said, "Yes, you have it right, Ed. Sue planned and executed today's... adventure."
I grinned at her. "Still won't call it a mission, huh?"
"Not until it has been recorded as such."
"Oh, well. I think I'm going to have a look around the base and town. I'm kind of curious to see what's changed around here after almost thirty years."
Looking past me at the people still milling around the flitter, Elkor said, "Lena Danvers may wish to speak with you, Ed."
"Yeah, but anyone who needs to know what happened today will get a copy of the flight record. I still have a few hours of daylight left to act like a tourist."
"In that case," said Elkor, "I'll visit with you later."
From a human, those might have been the words of someone who felt a sense of rejection. From Elkor, they were simply parting words.
Nodding, I said, "Sounds good, unless you and Steph would rather come with me."
Steph shook her head. "I put a few things off today that concern my company. I'd like to open in September, but there are some licensing issues."
"May I make a suggestion, Steph? Don't represent yourself in legal or contractual matters. Any little slip of personality or the slightest impression of aloofness can put people off, and all it takes is one misunderstood mannerism. If someone else does the screwups, you can always, apologize for any misunderstandings and continue negotiations."
Smiling, Steph said, "I hired a patent law firm in Virginia."
"Ah-hah. Well. So you've got it covered and I'm hauling coals to Newcastle. Still, it's good to know you're on it."
Reaching for my backpack, I took out my passport and some traveler's checks left over from my last trip to Texas. There were still five fifties in the packet. Good enough.
Looking at Sue, I asked, "How about you, lady? Wanna be a tourist for a while?"
She gave me a little 'why not' shrug, a bob of her head and said, "Sure, mister. I guess my evening's free."
With a short laugh, Steph said, "I'll see everybody later," and vanished. Elkor said, "I'll visit with Tiger for a time. Goodbye," and also vanished.
Outside, the HumVees, ambulances, and military personnel were gone, leaving only Lena Danvers and two guys in suits standing on the helipad, apparently talking about something.
Sue said, "It might be diplomatic to at least meet briefly with Lena Danvers before we depart. Her local support might be useful if we ever have occasion to..."
"Lordy, you sound a lot like Elkor at times."
"Well? Am I wrong?"
Sighing, I slung my pack on my shoulder and said, "No, you aren't wrong. I'll take a minute with her on general principles. Flitter, once we're off the deck, go back to stealth mode and park yourself upstairs, please."
"Yes, sir."
We stepped down and the flitter abruptly rose into the sky behind us. At first everybody saw only the flitter rising, then they saw us as the flitter's field uncovered us.
You'd have thought we were a pair of aliens who'd beamed in from the way everybody stared at us for a time. Danvers suddenly stepped forward and two guys in suits somewhat belatedly followed her.
Extending a hand toward me, she said, "Lena Danvers, Mr. Howdershelt. Sorry about our misunderstanding before."
Misunderstanding? I hadn't noticed one. In fact, she still seemed stiff and cool.
Deliberately misinterpreting her greeting, I said, "Well, if you're going to be Lena, I guess I'll have to be Ed. This is Sue."
Her gaze narrowed, but we shook hands all around. She introduced the guys with her as Cole Markland and Gerald Williams. Williams amended, "Call me Jerry."
The way people smile at you can be interesting. Jerry's smile was open and rather admiring as he looked at Sue. Cole's was one of those manufactured little half-smirks that seriously arrogant people seem to think will get them by. Danvers' grimace was so forced it looked as if it might be painful.
"Right," I said. "Do we really have anything to talk about, or is this just a protocol chat for the record?"
Danvers met my gaze for a few moments as if trying to decide how to answer. She chose the truth.
Glancing around to be sure we weren't on camera, she spoke, barely moving her lips. "It's just protocol."
"Then let's say we did it and go our separate ways. I don't think we're gonna get along very well."
Jerry seemed astonished that I'd say something like that to her. Cole's expression never changed a whit. Danvers again glanced around, then took a step closer.
"I think you're probably right. Anything to report?"
"Nope. We went there, did that. I've already talked to Linda, you have the hostages, and I'm not supposed to tell anyone a damned thing. Are we done?"
Nodding curtly, she stepped back and asked, "Are you like this with everybody?"
I shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much. Are you like this with everybody?"
She grinned slightly. "Yeah, pretty much."
"Then we know where we stand."
Jerry glanced upward and said, "Your flitter's gone. Were you planning to stay here for a while?"
"Thought we'd look around some. I used to work here."
"Here? You mean here at Landstuhl or here in Germany?"
Grinning, I said, "Well, both, actually." Looking around, I added, "But I'm not going to waste my time up here on base. They've changed everything but the roads."
Danvers said, "We'll be here a while, so if you need a ride down the hill, Cole or Jerry can take you."
"No, thanks. We're okay."
It was apparent that Danvers regarded that as a rebuff of some sort. She stiffened up instantly.
I raised a hand and said, "Wait one. I wasn't refusing your offer in favor of a taxi, Lena. We really don't need a ride anywhere."
Jerry asked, "You're not going to walk down, are you? This hill must be a mile high."
"The road to get up here is about a mile. The hill isn't." Shrugging, I added, "Unless they changed that, too."
Turning back to Danvers, I asked, "Are we through?"
With another curt nod, she said, "Sure."
Shifting my backpack to put my right arm through the strap, I said, "Later, then," and built a field platform under my feet that quickly lifted me skyward. To Sue, I said, "I'll open my kite at fifteen hundred or so."
Sue rose alongside me and shortly said, "We're there," right about the time the cars and people looked small enough.
"Thanks, milady. Glider on."
My field implant formed a transparent hang glider above me and I nosed slightly downward to gain forward speed, heading for the main gate and the road down the hill.
Yeah, they'd changed the place a bit. All I really recognized was the motor pool up the hill, the general layout of the base, and some of the old stone buildings that dated from well before WW-2. The old wooden hospital wings that had sprawled over the hillside had been replaced with a modern, multi-story concrete box.
The gate guard freaked a little, I guess. He saw a man and a woman with no visible means of support floating over the gate and just stared for some moments.
I didn't find the thermal I'd half-expected on the hillside just beyond the gate, but it didn't matter. Banking around the hill, I saw that the theater at the bottom of the hill was still there, as was the Esso gas station where the road to Ramstein came into town.
Heading that direction, I looked for a pub across from the bahnhof and felt somewhat gratified to find the same name above the door that had been there years ago. On the other corner was the police station, also right where I'd left it.
There was a lot more traffic than I remembered, but that made sense. The kids had grown up and had their own kids, and all God's chillun gotta have wheels in the western world.
Sue asked, "Are you disappointed, Ed?"
"Change happens. See that pub down there? It's as good a place as any to see about dinner. It used to be a sports pub and I came here a lot when I coached soccer on base. We set up schedules over beers."
Grinning, Sue said, "That isn't in your official records."
"A search of related records from the early seventies might turn it up. I was a co-captain on the hospital team, too. We coached kids from the German-American club on weekends."
"Ah. That helped. Found you. It says your hospital team did very well. For Americans."
"It says 'for Americans'?"
"That came from a local newspaper article. Do you want company for dinner, or would you prefer to prowl the place and reminisce alone?"
"Your choice, ma'am. If you're with me, they'll never even notice me unless I cough or fart or something."
Laughing, Sue replied, "If you'd like, I could send probes to record the town at a height of about six feet."
Nosing the glider into a lazy spiral, I said, "Thanks, I'd like that. I'll set down at the bahnhof."
I lined up for a final approach in the train station parking lot and glided to a landing behind a couple of people on their way into the building.
When I touched down several yards from them, I looked back. They were looking around, having heard and felt the wind of my passage, but they didn't connect Sue and me with what they'd experienced.
Looking around at ground level, nothing seemed too different about the bahnhof area. We stepped into the lobby. The ticket window and tiny newsstand shop by the door to the tracks was about to close for the day.
Choosing a Frankfurt newspaper and a pack of gum, I gave the woman behind the counter a dollar as I checked the currency exchange chart on the wall behind her.
Twenty bucks would cover dinner and a few beers; I gave her a twenty and some of my Euro change from the buck for two ten-Euro notes.
As we headed for the door with another look around the lobby, the front door opened and in walked a middle-aged man. He glanced around, saw that we were the only people in the lobby, and looked us over briefly.
Well, he looked me over briefly, anyway. His gaze lingered on Sue somewhat longer, of course, then he asked in English if we were Americans, which had to be nothing more than a conversation-opener, given my clothes.
For the hell of it, I tried my rusty, dusty German when I replied, "Yes, we are." The man studied me for a moment.
"You speak German very well."
"I used to. Thirty years ago. Don't know if I still speak it very well."
"You're doing fine so far. Your lady is also American?"
For lack of a better answer, I said, "Yes."
Through my implant, Sue asked, "Are you sure about that?"
He asked, "Have you seen anything... unusual... during the last few minutes?"
Nothing unusual for me. I shrugged and said, "No, nothing. We just got here, though."
Noting my backpack, he asked, "You arrived on a train?"
"No, we came down from the hospital to have dinner in town." Pointing through the window, I added, "Over there."
Apparently considering matters, the cop asked, "How do you speak German so well?"
"I worked in Germany many years ago."
"So you are now just tourists?"
I nodded. "Just visiting up the hill."
Glancing at his watch, the man said, "Thank you for your time and have a pleasant visit. I must go now," and tapped his hat brim in a small salute as he went back outside.
"He's gotta be a cop," I muttered to Sue. "Beats me why he didn't check our passports."
"He might only have been a concerned citizen."
Snickering, I replied, "Yeah, right."
We continued across the street to the pub and up the front steps as the man took another look around the bahnhof lot and headed for the police station on the next corner.
"Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, lady. Did I tell ya? A cop."
Sue manufactured a condescending smile and a sigh and said, "Perhaps so. Or perhaps still only a concerned citizen."
"None are so blind as those who will not see, ma'am."
"What I didn't see was a badge, sir."
As I opened the pub door for Sue, a solid wave of sound hit us and I saw that the place was still very much a sports bar. Four TV's blared soccer stuff from every corner of the main room. The massive oak bar had been replaced by a short, Formica-clad countertop, likely to make room for more of the many tiny tables that had replaced the larger wooden tables I remembered. There were now two pool tables, side by side and too close to each other due to the limitations of the anteroom that had once been a cozy dining room.
Except that the signs and menus were in German, it could have been the sports bar down the street from my house in Florida; the one I never went to because of all the noise.
When I looked at Sue, I didn't have to say anything. She turned toward the door before I did, in fact. I opened it for her and we stepped back outside into relative silence.
Looking up the street, I saw a bratwurst stand tucked between two buildings and a Chinese restaurant sign a bit farther up the block.
"No thrills there," I said. "But a bratwurst and a beer would qualify as German food, I guess."
Sue clasped her hands behind her and looked thoughtful, then asked, "Would you like me to present you with the names and locations of various restaurants in Landstuhl?"
Pointing at an adjacent hill with stone ruins at its summit, I said, "Thanks, but just tell me if there's still a restaurant up at the castle."
"Yes, there is, but..."
Preparing to launch, I said, "Then that's where we'll go."
"It's closed for renovation."
I unprepared -- a simple matter of moving my feet apart and relaxing somewhat -- swore softly, and asked, "What's German, good or better than good, and not too far?"
"There's a two-star restaurant on the corner of Schloss Strasse, about a quarter of a mile that way."
She faced back toward the theater as she spoke.
"Sounds good," I said, starting that way. "Thanks, milady."
Grinning, she replied, "Oh, think nothing of it. Allowing you to starve would be contrary to my programming."
As we headed back up the hill, I noted that most of the older stone buildings of downtown Landstuhl looked more or less unchanged. There were only a few newer glass-and-chrome storefronts among them. To me they looked as out of place as bright plastic replacement keys on an antique piano.
Oh, well. Most of those old buildings were built during times when labor was cheap. Getting someone to handcraft new parts for burned or otherwise damaged sections was likely an exorbitantly expensive proposition.
I began looking for things of interest -- rather than things I remembered -- and found one almost immediately. Forming the second-floor corner of a building, an alcove sheltered a four-foot statue of a woman, likely Mary or some patron saint. You just don't see stuff like that very often in the States.
Sue had chosen well; the restaurant was not only quiet, it was as German as it's possible to be and looked like a family business. I ordered a Jagerschnitzel platter and a pils beer, then added a small salad. Sue looked regretful as she declined to order anything.
The waitress inquired after Sue's health. Sue thanked her and said that she'd probably be fine in the morning.
As the waitress left us, I said, "Good cover."
With a snicker, Sue said, "I thought about leading her to believe you wouldn't buy me dinner, of course."
"Oh, no doubt. Why didn't you?"
"Just didn't." With a bright, inquiring expression and a smile, she asked, "Does this mean you now 'owe me one'?"
Returning her grin, I replied, "That depends on what kind of 'one' you mean, sweetie. I know a dozen ways I could send you after a bucket of propwash."
When only a few bites remained on my plate, I sipped my beer and said, "I don't feel like being a tourist. Would you be very disappointed if we skipped that part of the evening and looked for a club to party a bit?"
Studying me, Sue said, "I suppose not. What happened to your interest concerning what might have changed in the last thirty years?"
Shrugging, I said, "It doesn't matter what changed. I'd notice some things and miss others, and there's no point in giving a damn, anyway. Things are as they are, as usual."
The waitress visited to see if we needed anything else. I asked for the check, which came to just over eight Euros. I gave her a ten-Euro note and used the change as a tip.
We weren't more than a block from the restaurant when an Army sedan pulled up next to us. The passenger window rolled down to reveal a captain beckoning us to come to the car.
He got out as we approached and asked me, "May I see your passports, sir?"
Shit. My passport didn't have a German entry stamp and Sue didn't have a passport at all.
Stopping a few feet from him, I asked, "Got a reason?"
"We received a tip that they might be... incorrect."
"A tip from whom and -- again -- for what reason? Incorrect how?"
"Mr. Howdershelt, I'm an MP. Please just cooperate."
Reading his nametag, I said, "Just hang on one, Captain Barnes. You know my name, which means you probably also know how I got into Germany today, right?"
Another MP sedan turned a corner and approached us, crossing the street to park nose-to-nose with the first car. A lieutenant and two enlisteds got out of the car.
The captain said, "As a matter of fact, I was on hand when you arrived. That's why I came instead of sending a couple of enlisteds alone." He gestured at the others and amended, "That's why we're all here. We've been looking for you. Now, may I see your passports?"
With a glance at Sue, I asked him, "Same questions, Captain. Who told you to check them and why?"
He sighed shortly and said, "All I know is that we received a tip to verify your passports, sir."
"Well, I'd rather you didn't. We didn't stop at the border when we brought the hostages in. No entry stamp."
The lieutenant abruptly said, "Then you'll have to come with us, sir," and opened the rear door of his sedan.
Giving him an arch look, I asked, "Would that be because you can stamp my passport?"
"No, sir, we can't do that. You'll be taken to the US embassy in Bonn for processing."
"By whom?"
"Lieutenant," said the captain, "I'd appreciate it if you'd let me handle this." Turning back to me, he said, "We'll arrange accommodations for you on base tonight, but tomorrow they'll probably do just as he said. I'm sorry, sir."
Keying my implant, I whispered, "Flitter. Come get me."
The captain asked, "What?"
Pointing upward caused them to look up. I took that opportunity to key my other implant and form a field pedestal that quickly lifted me into the sky.
Hovering alongside me, Sue said, "One thousand, Ed."
"Not this time. The flitter can slip under me if it gets here before the pedestal field gets wobbly."
The trick is to keep going up. Fields are weightless, but they're tangible, so wind is a factor. Just about the time the mountain breezes shoved my pedestal eastward, the flitter arrived and matched the motion of my toppling pedestal.
I stepped onto the flitter's deck knowing that the guys below couldn't see the flitter. I found that rather satisfying; to them, I'd simply shot upward and disappeared.
"Heh. That'll give 'em something to talk about."
"Indeed it should," said Sue.
"Can you find out who called them about us?"
"The tip to check our passports originated on Lena Danvers' laptop as an instant message to the Provost Marshall's office, but she didn't send the message. She was interviewing hostages at the time. Her laptop was in her BOQ room. Shortly after the message was sent, Markland called the MP's and said that he'd be handling the matter for Danvers."
"Uh, huh. Where is she now?"
"In the Admissions office."
Nodding, I asked, "Where are Markland and Williams?"
"Williams is with the hostages on ward nine. Markland is in a car near the base theater."
"Would his car be heading toward the Provost Marshal's office?"
Sue gave me a raised left eyebrow and said, "The car is traveling in that general direction, but would have to turn off the current road to go there."
"Five bucks says he makes the turn."
"Again, sir; if you paid me..."
Sighing, I said, "Yeah, yeah. All that."
We watched Markland's blue car tool along the upper loop around the base and turn right. A block later he parked at the Provost Marshall's office.
"Three suit on," I said, and watched my hands vanish. "I'm going in, too. Care to come along?"
Also vanishing, Sue said, "Of course."
"Flitter, let us off by the front door, then hover above the building, please."
Markland got out of his car as the flitter said, "Yes, sir," and took us to within twenty feet or so of the office doors. I hopped down quietly and followed Markland closely in order to catch the door and slip inside the building behind him.
"I'm here to see Captain Barnes," he said to the desk clerk.
"Not here, sir. We're expecting him back shortly, though."
Turning without so much as a 'thanks', Markland walked to a chair by the door and sat down. I quietly took another chair. Some five minutes or so later, car doors slammed outside and people came up the steps.
The door opened rather forcefully and an angry Captain Barnes strode into the lobby. He saw Markland and sharply gestured for Markland to follow him as he continued past the clerk's desk to his office.
Barnes was holding the door open for Markland and the lieutenant. I hurried ahead and slipped into the room just ahead of the LT. Barnes shut the door rather firmly, walked to his desk, and sat down without inviting the others to do sit.
After a moment, he said, "Lieutenant Harris, if this guy so much as farts, cuff him and throw his ass in a cell."
"Yes, sir," said Harris, smiling slightly.
Markland opened his mouth to say something, but Barnes interrupted with, "Markland, I don't like being used, and you or Danvers -- or both -- used us. That's all I can figure at this point, even though I don't know why. I didn't really believe what they told me about the guy flying off the base, but I do now. Both of them shot up in the air and fucking disappeared. Tell me you didn't know that would happen, Markland. Tell me I didn't get sent out there to chase rabbits for you."
Reaching in his coat for a silver cigarette case, Markland took out a tiny cigar as he said, "Your job, Captain Barnes. You did your job, and if you have any problems with that, you can refer to your chain of command."
"Oh, I will. Have no doubt." As Markland reached in his coat pocket for his lighter, Barnes added, "And don't light that damned thing in my office. Tell me why the hell you set us on those people."
Stilling his hand, Markland rather coolly said, "Captain," stressing Barnes' rank, "You already know all you need to know about the matter." He put the cigarette case away, sat down by the desk, and asked, "How many people were with him? Just the woman?"
After a moment, Barnes said, "Yeah. Just the woman."
"When you say they disappeared, how do you mean that? Can you describe exactly what happened?"
With a snort, Barnes gestured upward and his fists flew open at arm's length above his head as he asked, "Weren't you listening, Markland? Didn't I say they shot straight up and disappeared? That's as in 'vanished'. Poof. Gone. Not-fucking-there-anymore! You got the idea yet?"
Markland calmly turned to the lieutenant and asked, "Can you confirm that?"
Nodding, the LT said, "That's exactly what happened. No wires, smoke, or mirrors. Straight up and gone. Both of them."
Regarding the LT for a moment, then returning his gaze to Barnes, Markland asked, "Was there anything else notable about the incident?"
The lieutenant snorted a loud, brief laugh. "Wasn't that notable enough for you?"
Ignoring him, Markland remained focused on Barnes, who met his gaze for a moment, then stood up and came around the desk, saying, "No, Markland. There was nothing else 'notable' about the incident," as he opened his office door.
Likely just to prod Barnes one last time, Markland stopped at the door and smilingly asked, "You're sure? Nothing?"
Through clenched teeth, Barnes tersely said, "Nothing."
Without another word, Markland walked through the doorway and out of the building. Both men watched him go and the LT muttered, "I hope he's the next one to drive off the north side of this goddamned hill in the dark."
Barnes said, "Roger that. I need my office, Jim."
The LT smilingly nodded and tossed a rather casual salute as he left. I waited until the door closed, then sent theta waves at Barnes as I whispered, "Three suit off."
Theta waves or no, my appearance startled the hell out of him. He froze, stared for a moment, and then sighed as he waved me to the chair by his desk and went to his own.
"Since you ducked out on us in town, are you going to tell me why you're now in my office?"
"I followed the weasel-boy here," I said as I sat down. "I want to know why you were sent down that hill, too, Cap. Any ideas?"
Leaning back, he said, "Assuming for a moment that there's any reason I should tell you anything, no. All I can figure is that someone wanted to cause you some trouble."
"No doubt about that. Mind if I call my ladyfriend?"
He shrugged and shoved the phone across his desk.
"Sue," I said.
She appeared in the other chair and smilingly said, "Hello, Captain Barnes," as his eyes bugged out for a moment.
When he turned to stare at me, he asked, "How the hell do you people do that?"
"Can't say," I said, "Couldn't tell the President, either, so don't feel too badly about it."
Barnes gave me a 'yeah, right' expression.
"Really," I said. "I mean that I just tell it to be on or off. That's all I really know about how it works."
With an accepting nod, he said, "Yeah, okay. Why is the National Intelligence Agency interested in you?"
"Damned if I know. I thought they were just a right-wing spinoff from the Patriot Act."
"So did I. Anyway, Markland's one of 'em. Not the other guy with Danvers, though. He's with 3rd World."
When I looked at Sue, she nodded.
"Sue, why didn't you mention Markland's affiliation with NIA when we met with Danvers?"
She shrugged, "Same reason as always. You didn't ask and it didn't seem worth mentioning at the time."
"The NIA's always worth mentioning when their people are around. What the hell's he doing with Danvers?"
"She was told he'd be meeting the hostages with her, which he did. No other instructions are on file, and he appears not to have been in her company before -- or for very long after -- we stepped off the flitter."
I turned to Barnes and said, "Danvers was in Admissions when the message was sent. Her laptop was in her BOQ room at the time. I don't know what Markland's up to, Cap, but if the NIA's involved, it's a shady deal."
He laughed softly, "You're the invisible man with a passport problem, and you're calling him 'shady'. Now, that's funny."
I shrugged. "Maybe so, but that's how it is. I'm going to go have a word with Danvers now. She'd probably like to know she was used today. And that someone's been in her laptop."
Looking doubtful, Barnes asked, "Have you considered that she might be in on whatever's going on?"
Standing up, I said, "Yup. Done thunka that. Later, Cap," and whispered, "Three suit on."
He was out of his chair and around the desk more quickly than I'd expected, but Sue had also vanished and I was well out of his way as he yanked the door open and looked around the offices beyond his door.
The desk clerk turned to ask, "Yes, sir?" and Barnes waved him off as he calmed himself and glanced around his own office again. He returned to his desk and sat down, then said, "Damn," before he picked up his phone and dialed.
When someone answered, he asked, "Rita, is Miss Danvers still there?" Then he said, "Yes, I would."
Another few moments passed before he said, "Miss Danvers, this is Captain Barnes... Yes. With the MP's. No, I'm not having anyone keep an eye on you, I just happened to hear you were there. Uh, look, I'm calling because I received a tip to find the two people who left the base after the flitter landed and check their passports. Yes, ma'am, that's all; just to check their passports. The message appears to have come from your computer. Yes, ma'am. Well, we thought so. Mr. Markland was just here asking about the outcome of the stop."
I'll give Danvers credit; she didn't dither. Barnes' next words were, "Yes, ma'am, I think we should, but stay put. I can be there in a few minutes."
They said goodbyes and Barnes hung up, then he grabbed his hat and went to the clerk's desk, where he picked up a printout and folded it for his shirt pocket.
"I'll be at the hospital," he said, then he went out the front door and headed for a military-issue sedan.
"Sue," I said, "Keep an eye on Markland. If he goes near Danvers' computer again, fry it."
"I could simply interrupt the power."
Heading for the door, I muttered, "Yeah. Good. Whatever," as her presence left the room. At the doorway, I keyed my implant and turned around, stepping back into the room long enough to whisper, "No, Sue, not 'whatever'. You're right, there's no reason to fry it. Sorry to have gotten carried away."
She chuckled. "Okay."
At the parking lot, I made a field pedestal that looked about high enough, said, "Glider on," and floated across the parade field to the hospital's helipad entrance. A sign in the corridor pointed me to Admissions and I jogged up the ramp, arriving just as Barnes walked in from the parking lot.
In the office, I stepped over to the coffee pot and said, "Three suit off," then tossed Barnes a sloppy salute. He stopped cold and stared at me.
As I pulled a foam cup off a stack, Danvers asked, "What's wrong?" then she saw me. "What are you doing here?"
Holding up the cup, I said, "Getting a coffee."
"Where's... uh, Sue?"
"'Uh, Sue' is currently guarding your laptop from Markland."
Marching up to within a few inches of me, she glaringly hissed, "Your computer has my computer?"
"No, she doesn't 'have' it, Danvers. She's just guarding it, and you need to come up with a way to find out whether the NIA already has everything that was in it the last time Markland messed with it."
"You're telling me someone's been using my laptop?"
"Not 'someone'. Markland. He was in your BOQ room."
Her anger was almost tangible as she shot back, "How the hell would you know...?"
I turned around and filled the coffee cup as I keyed up a field screen. Danvers gasped and stepped back from it. Barnes gasped and stepped forward to try to touch it.
When the cup was full, I poked the flapping lips icon and sent a cooling field into my coffee during the brief wait.
Linda's face appeared and she asked, "Yes, Ed?"
"Hi, Fearless Leader. Here's the skinny; Cole Markland is NIA and he's had his grubby little hands on Lena's laptop, which he used to tip the Army captain now staring at your lovely face to stop Sue and me in downtown Landstuhl for a passport check."
"Interesting," she said, her left eyebrow arching.
To Barnes, I said, "Show her the printout, Cap. She's my boss." Thumbing at Danvers, I added, "She'll probably want to see it, too. She's the real persnickety type."
As Barnes unfolded the paper, Linda said, "We'll dig a little at this end, Ed. We knew Markland was NIA; they didn't bother keeping it a secret. On the other hand, they told us their only interest was in debriefing the hostages, which wouldn't include tampering with a 3rd World employee's computer."
Barnes held the paper smack in front of the screen and asked, "Can you see this okay?"
I reached to pull his display back a foot or so and Linda said, "That's fine now. Got a copy." Her eyes flicked to the front of Barnes' jacket. "Captain Barnes, I'm Linda Baines, head of security for 3rd World. Your insignia tells me you're an MP."
"Yes, ma'am."
"For the record, do you confirm receiving this message?"
"Yes, ma'am. It came as an instant message from Danvers, then Markland called to say he'd be handling the matter."
"A message from my computer?!" Danvers asked in a disbelieving tone, "Not likely, Ms. Baines. I use 128-bit encryption on everything."
"Danvers," said Linda, "You're admin, not field. Ed could show you how to bypass your entry codes and use your machine in about ten minutes, and I've no doubt at all that Markland could do the same."
"Gee, thanks, lady," I said. "Now I can't feel special anymore. By the way, my main reason for calling was to see if you'd tell Danvers that I think she's an officious pain in the ass and an obstacle to progress. She doesn't seem to hear very well past all the brass in her ears."
"Ah. I thought it might be something like that. Danvers, you're admin. He's field. When you're in the field, the field op calls the shots and you either accept that or you don't get another out-of-office assignment."
Sue pinged my implant as Linda finished speaking. Putting a finger to my temple to let Linda know something was up, I answered, "Yes, milady," which spared Danvers the immediate need to respond to Linda's words. Barnes and Danvers looked at me oddly. Linda simply waited.
"Ed," said Sue, "Markland's in the BOQ building and heading toward Danvers' room."
"Thanks, Sue." Turning to Barnes, I said, "Markland's on his way to Danvers' room. Even if you catch him in the act, you probably won't be able to keep him long, but it's probably worth the effort in other ways."
Barnes looked at Danvers and said, "Just tell me he's not supposed to be in your room."
"What?! Go, damn it! Stop him!"
Looking at Linda and me, Barnes grinningly said, "I'll take that as a 'yes'," and took a small radio out of a belt holster. He told whoever answered to run over to the BOQ and arrest Markland, then put his radio away.
Linda asked, "Anything else, Ed?"
"Maybe later. Doubt it, though. Markland won't know any more than absolutely necessary and there's nobody else to question just now. Looks as if you get to do all the digging."
Nodding, she said, "Okay. Captain Barnes, it was nice meeting you and thanks for your assistance. Goodbye, all."
She poked her 'off' icon and I dissolved the field screen. Passing his hand through the space where it had been, Barnes asked, "Where'd it go?"
"Nowhere. It was made of energy. Now the energy's free for other uses."
"I don't think I understand how... Energy doesn't just stand still, does it?"
Shrugging, I said, "I just use the the fancy toys."
Turning to Danvers, he asked, "Do you use them, too?"
Danvers glanced at me before answering, then said, "In our offices, yes. To a degree. Nothing quite like that."
"You can't use them outside your offices?"
Shaking her head, she said, "No."
"But he can. Why's that?"
Looking at me as she spoke, Danvers said, "I don't know."
As Barnes looked at me, I said, "And I can't say. How long can you guys hang onto Markland?"
"Probably no longer than it takes for him to call his boss. They'll slap 'national security' on it and we'll be out of the picture as soon as they come for him."
"Come for him?" asked Danvers, "You won't just let him go when they tell you?"
Barnes grinned. "If we catch him in your room, it's breaking and entering and maybe burglary, depending on what's in his hands or his pockets at the time. Someone will have to appear in person to sign him out of our hands. A report will be filed instantly, and because he's a civilian government employee, copies will go to several agencies. The charges will either have to be dropped, proven false, or reasons for a security cover will have to be given. Are you going to drop charges?"
"Hell, no!" snapped Danvers.
"Maybe," I said. "Depends on whether Linda needs leverage with the NIA or not." Looking at Danvers, I added, "But don't worry, she won't tell you to drop the charges unless she's made a pretty good deal."
Nodding, Barnes said, "Seen it before. Interagency relations can be a real hoot, can't they? What'll you do now?"
Sipping my coffee, I said, "Head home."
Danvers looked incredulous. "What?! After all that's just happened?"
"My job was to unsnatch the hostages and drop 'em here. Markland's your problem."
Barnes' gaze at me narrowed. "You got them out?"
"Yeah. Sue and I and two others who'd probably prefer to be nameless. We did a little damage, so there'll probably be something about it on the news."
Tossing my coffee cup in the trash, I said to Danvers, "So Markland's all yours, ma'am. Work his ass over on general principles. And try to be a little nicer to the next field guy who drops in. We're very sensitive, y'know."
Holding my hand out to Barnes, I said, "Next time I'm in the area, I'll try to have a stamp in my passport."
He laughingly shook hands and replied, "Yeah, sure. You do that. Don't make me come after you again."
As the three of us headed for the helipad entrance, Sue popped into existence beside me and said, "Markland is in custody and I've taken the liberty of calling the flitter down."
"Thanks, milady. We..."
Barnes had gasped and stopped walking. Danvers had screeched softly as she'd backed away a couple of steps.
Rather than cobble up yet another half-assed explanation for a strange occurrence, I just continued walking, took Sue's arm as I whispered, "Three suit on," and stopped us to one side of the sliding glass doors.
Sue followed 'suit', so to speak, then she asked through my implant, "Why are we invisible, Ed?"
"We'll be able to leave in peace. Let them get the doors."
Danvers and Barnes rushed to the spot where we'd disappeared, looked around, then looked through the glass doors to see if we were outside and headed toward them.
The doors opened for them and we followed them outside. As the doors closed behind us, we walked around Danvers and Barnes toward the helipad.
Sue asked, "Where are we going now?"
"Away from the the shrieky woman, mostly. I'm going to crack a beer, put my seat back, and maybe watch the news."
I couldn't see the flitter, but my implant tingled as it landed in front of us. When we entered the flitter's field, it became visible. We stepped aboard as Sue spoke.
Sue appeared and said, "Her voice shouldn't have sounded shrieky to you, Ed."
"It didn't, after you tuned my implant. I was referring to her personality. Three suit off. Flitter, take us up to a hundred feet and park us over the theater building for now."
"Yes, sir," said the flitter, moving us as directed.
Grabbing a beer from the cooler, I plunked myself into the pilot's seat and put my feet on the console. Sue took the seat on my right.
Several moments of silence followed as I opened my beer, sipped it, and remembered another time of my life as I studied the base from end to end.
Faces flashed across the screen of my mind. Most of them were still attached to names, although not all. Some were simply attached to events or places.
Too much time and too many changes. It just wasn't the same place at all. Might as well plan some time to make a real tour of the new Europe that had replaced mine.
"Flitter," I said softly, "Fly us to Landstuhl castle, please. Hover a hundred feet above it."
"Yes, sir."
Glancing at the console, I said, "Stop saying that, flitter. If I want confirmation, I'll ask for it."
The flitter remained silent as the hospital complex receded behind us and we headed for the dark stone walls of hillside-neighbor Schloss Landstuhl.
Fresh stone and lighter-colored mortar stood out along three of the walls and turrets; it looked as if they'd made considerable -- if not terribly rapid -- progress with restoration.
I rose to walk to the side of the flitter and stood looking over the hills around us, taking another hit of beer as I focused on one hillside in particular.
There were multi-level apartments where I'd made a hard, short run and launched a hang glider for the very first time back in 1972. At the bottom of the hill was a gas station and some kind of store.
"Fuck growth and progress," I muttered. "Flitter, take us back to my house."
We rose quickly into the sky as I took another sip of beer and added my usual, "Please," as something of an afterthought.
Turning to Sue, I emphasized the word 'you' as I said, "Quiz time. Why do you think Markland had Barnes stop us?"
She instantly responded, "He knew we had no entry stamps and expected us to be detained."
"More, please. Detained on base overnight, then shipped to the embassy. Why? To what gain for whom?"
"Information for his agency, I suppose."
"That's where it ends for me at the moment, too. The NIA can't be ignorant about who we are. They'd also have to know about PFM's and Steph's plans to market them; that much is public knowledge since the Orlando glider meet. What else would they want to know badly enough to hijack us and risk having Linda put her boot up their collective asses?"
Sue snickered. When I looked at her, she said, "People have created some very expressive phrases. I've scanned numerous recent NIA records, but I haven't discovered anything that would appear either to be an answer or lead us to one."
"For something like what Markland did, there likely won't be any records. He may even have improvised the stop."
I sipped some more beer and watched the world roll by far below us for a time, then said, "Y'know, Sue, the 'spy vs. spy' crap used to be kind of fun back when I was twenty-something and new at it. The FBI, CIA, DEA, DIA, NSA and all the other acronym-outfits had to literally be forced to share info with each other, so conning each other out of info was as big a game as snookering the Commies."
Sue smiled at me, but made no response.
Sipping again, I said, "Now terrorism is the new bugaboo and we've got the goddamned Patriot Act -- a truly misnamed document if ever there was one -- and because of it, they've created another half-dozen or so domestic and international espionage agencies who duplicate each other's efforts because they all still have to be forced to cooperate with each other."
Draining my beer, I tossed the bottle over the side to bright oblivion and said, "Seems to me that if we truly have a government 'of the people, by the people, and for the people', then the 'people' it's representing at the moment would have to be as conniving, greedy, and paranoid as the Commie witchhunters of the McCarthy era, back in the fifties."
The console came on and a car commercial ended, then a very attractive woman with an 'all news, all the time' network said, "And now our top stories," and was replaced by footage of the ex-hostages stepping off the flitter at the Landstuhl.
I tuned out the commentary and watched Barbara and the others meet and greet for a few moments. The image changed to a satellite view of the bunker mountain and the newswoman described it as the place where the hostages had been held as well as a suspected terrorism headquarters.
A few seconds after she stopped talking, the mountain vented steam and a geyser erupted. Once the top of the column of steam had flattened out enough to obscure the area below, the scene switched to a camera view from one of the surrounding mountainsides as the woman credited the footage to some news outfit that had a crew in Iran.
We watched the mountain blow up again and the cute newswoman was about to say more, but I tapped the selector icon to bring up 'Stargate:SG1' and looked at Sue as the program's intro faded to commercials.
"Was turning on the console an attempt to change the subject, ma'am?"
Shrugging lightly, she said, "I was actually trying to improve your mood. I thought seeing what we accomplished today might do that."
"It did," I said with a nod and a grin, "I have the attention span of a laboratory rat, y'know."
Sue returned my grin and put her feet up on the console beside mine. It was impossible not to admire her gorgeous, field-generated legs, so I didn't even try.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," she said thoughtfully, "I think your attention span may be somewhat better than that. Most of the time, anyway."
"Gee, thanks. If I put together a tour of Europe, do you think you can find the time to come with me?"
Laughing softly, she said, "Well, I'm pretty busy these days, but I might be available. Are you sure you wouldn't rather have Selena and Toni for company on such a tour?"
"I'd like them to come, but Sel would have to steal time from her new job and Toni's about to start her last semester of college. Got my doubts they'd be able to make the trip."
"Are you going to ask them anyway?"
I gave her an 'are you nuts?' look.
Her questioning expression continued unabated.
"All right," I said, "Let's say I'll ask them if I don't think it would hurt their feelings to have to say no. Otherwise, I'll tell Linda to make it look like a mission and nobody's feelings will be hurt." Shrugging, I added, "That's if I decide to go. I'm having a little trouble giving a damn at the moment."
'Stargate:SG1' came back on. The pretty blonde major on the console screen slammed her hand on a big red alert button and declared an unauthorized incoming transmission as klaxons sounded and red lights flashed. Someone else shouted that they couldn't close the iris or shut down the stargate.
Hm. Just like 'Star Trek' in that regard; the minute they were needed, defensive systems were very often discovered to be inoperative or inadequate.
Sue asked, "Because things seemed different?"
"No, not that so much. Once upon a time -- when I was fifteen or so -- visiting Munich, Paris, or London was just a daydream. By the time I was nineteen, I'd discovered that if you join the right government agency and carefully engineer your way through the maze of possible assignments, you can go just about anywhere you want in the world. So I went."
Looking at me in silence, Sue simply raised an eyebrow.
On the screen, guards scrambled to aim M-16's at the big circle as it flushed sideways. Hm, again. After all the times it had taken heavy automatic fire to slow or stop the show's bad guys, the good guys still carried those pissy little M-16's.
Given that an unauthorized visitor could operate a stargate at all and would feel confident enough to drop in unannounced, I'd have parked a well-entrenched 20mm autocannon at the foot of that ramp and had a couple of LAWs on each side.
I continued, "I saw the castles, rivers, and mountains. Tried the beers, wines, and foods. Watched the changing of the guard in London and a few other places that do that sort of thing. More or less learned a few key languages and used them for over a decade on four continents. When I looked at the castle this evening, it occurred to me that I'd already seen just about everything that wouldn't change much, so I'm beginning to think a tour isn't really the answer."
A confident, good looking woman came through the stargate and showed a lot of leg as she coolly scanned the greeting party. A portly one-star general told everybody to stand down and greeted her as an old friend and ally, then she explained why she'd come from somplace other than her usual planet.
Hm, a third time. No serious effort at caution, even after all the times someone had been duplicated, cloned, infected somehow, taken over by some alien mentality, or had turned out to be working for the bad guys, after all.
"The answer to what, Ed?"
Sighing, I sipped my beer and gave her question some thought before I said, "Restlessness, I guess. Retirement was killing me as surely as a slow cancer, I think. I was about ready to rent the house through an agency and haul ass, then the Amarans came and Linda put me back to work. After Ellen left, I spent three months buzzing around the world, camping aboard the flitter. The one place I didn't go was Landstuhl, because I knew what I'd find there."
The SG1 team found themselves on some Eden-like world and immediately ran into trouble with the natives and the usual baddies, who'd been expecting them. Again. Better luck next time, guys. I keyed the console screen off and turned to Sue.
"You knew?" she asked, "How? Extrapolation?"
"Nope. TV and the Internet. Remember when the Gulf War casualties were airlifted to Ramstein, then taken to Landstuhl? That sort of reminded me the place was still there. A few years later there was a crash at Ramstein AFB, only a few miles away and a place where we used to pick up airlifted patients. By that time I was on the net, so I ran a search and found a website with pictures of the new hospital."
I took another sip, then continued, "Well, anyway, the aimless wandering thing after Ellen got old and I went back to Florida and let Linda know I was available for work. Every few months since, Linda's found a use for me. I spend a few days or a week on some assignment and that's been enough... well, I thought it was enough."
Sue asked, "May I make an observation?"
Gesturing with the beer bottle, I said, "Sure. Have at it."
"Promise you won't get upset?"
"If I do, so what? I never stay upset long."
She met my gaze and said, "This is the first hint that I've seen that you've been less than generally content. I submit that -- despite what you said earlier -- you're simply unhappy that so much had changed during your absence."
I let her stew by just looking at her for a few moments before I asked, "You 'submit' that, do you?"
"Yes," she said, then a bit more firmly, "Yes, I do."
Sipping my beer without taking my eyes off her, I let her wonder how I'd take it for another few ticks before I shrugged and said, "Yeah, well, maybe you're right. They replaced everything I gave a damn about with a big-assed white box. But for the other part, sometimes it does get kind of boring between Linda's little errands."
She eyed me for a moment, then said, "You could do something about that. Take up a hobby, perhaps?"
"I have hobbies. Gliding and writing."
"Apparently they aren't quite enough. What else interests you?" She laughed and asked, "Cooking?"
"You know so much better than that, lady."
"You own a gun. How about shooting?"
Shaking my head, I said, "A very noisy way to poke holes in paper. A necessary periodic evil performed only to maintain competence and placate those who sign my checks."
"I see. What about flying? Not gliders, of course."
"Sit in a bucket seat and drive across the sky. I can do that in the flitter without seat belts and have a beer while I do it."
Sue shot back, "Fishing."
"Used to be a way to get away now and then, but now my phone can ring anydamnedwhere. Never kept the fish 'cause I prefer hamburgers and steaks. What else ya got?"
Eyeing me narrowly, Sue asked, "Would it really matter what else I might suggest?"
"Probably not, if you keep suggesting stuff like that. You know what I've been missing most lately? Being able to go right up into space like Steph and I used to. That hundred-mile ceiling really sucks."
With a short laugh, Sue said, "I never realized you found it so confining, Ed."
Swigging some beer, I added, "And you know what else? We -- speaking in the sense that anyone who knows what really happened will view us as a group, that is -- 'we' just blew up a mountain, Sue. 'We' made that sucker just go the fuck away. Didn't even leave 'em ashes; just a nice, clean incision and a company logo where it used to be. Tell me that most of the high muckitymucks on Earth aren't suddenly scared shitless of Amarans and anyone who hangs out with 'em."
"That's possible, but how is the flight ceiling related to peoples' fear of Amarans?"
"Oh, that. Well, I was thinking that 3rd World could simply refuse to be involved in anything they regard as suspicious and the muckitymucks would know they have to accept 3rd's decision. As I see it, there's no further reason for the ceiling and there may never have been a good reason at all."
"There were undoubtedly political considerations, Ed."
Grinning, I said, "Like I said, no 'good' reason. Just an excuse for that particular moment, and I think that moment may have passed. What time is it in Carrington?"
Before she could answer, I took my feet off the console and said, "Nah, never mind the time. It's the middle of the day there. She'll be at the office."
Keying my implant, I created a field screen and pinged Linda's datapad. She answered a few moments later with her usual, "Hi, Ed. Hi, Sue."
"Hi, Linda," I said, "Is the flitter flight ceiling still necessary after today?"
Her expression betrayed no surprise as she regarded me for a few moments before answering, "I can't wait to hear your reasons for asking."
"Okay. We made a mountain disappear today. Making and exporting flitters for Amarans has become the world's ladder to the stars. In short, if 3rd World doesn't want to help put questionable stuff in orbit, who's gonna make 'em?"
Linda's left eyebrow went up. She solemnly asked, "Would you like to be the one to tell the President of the United States that 3rd World flatly won't cooperate in such efforts?"
I pretended to consider her words, then equally solemnly asked, "Would I have to wear a tie? I hate ties."
Sue looked a little startled. Linda gave me a wry look.
"Well?" I asked, "The non-factory flits that can fly that high can't achieve orbital speeds. NASA's toys can't slow down or they'll fall down, so the two systems can't link up in space. Beyond that, there's no way in hell anyone could sneak a weapons system or parts for one aboard a flitter. The whole issue is a non-issue if all we're going by is plain ol' facts."
"Has it occurred to you that there may be other issues to consider, Ed?"
"Sure. Briefly. But facts are facts, so if anyone's feelings are hurt, either someone hasn't explained things well enough or someone is trying real hard to have hurt feelings."
Linda was never one to dither about making decisions.
She said, "Okay. Lift the ceiling. Let me pass the word to those who need to know, and I still want this to be considered classified information among those who don't already know. We'd be inundated with requests for space rides."
Before I could answer, she added, "Don't be surprised if you wind up ferrying people upstairs now and then."
I sighed as if disappointed and said, "Yeah, I figured you'd say something like that. Can I sell tickets?"
Linda chuckled, "No, and accept tips only if they're offered. Is there anything else, Ed?"
"Um... Well... Are you still going with that Navy guy?"
Rolling her eyes, Linda sighed, "Yes, Ed. I'm still going with 'that Navy guy', Ed. Now, is-there-anything-else, Ed?"
Glancing at Sue, I asked, "You got anything else?"
She gave me a 'you're asking me?' look and said, "This was your idea."
Turning to Linda, I said, "Guess not, ma'am."
With a droll expression, Linda said, "Wonderful. Later, Ed."
"Okay. Thanks, Fearless Leader."
Her gaze had narrowed, but a small smile formed on her lips as she poked her 'off' icon.
"Sue," I said, "Can you lift the lid on flitters, or does Steph still hold the keys on that?"
"Those 'keys' were issued to me with this job, Ed. I've removed the altitude restriction."
"Thanks, milady. When we get back to the house, I'll see if Toni and Tiger are up for a trip to the stars. I already know what Selena will say about being able to go up there again."
Sipping my beer, I asked, "How about you, Sue? Would you have any interest in coming along?"
Looking at me somewhat archly, she said, "At the moment, I find it interesting that you included everyone else before you asked me."
Returning her look, I took her hand, kissed it, and said, "For your information, lady, I caught myself assuming that you'd come with us and realized that you might appreciate an actual invitation."
Canting her head slightly as Selena might, Sue said, "You were right. Thank you."
"You're welcome. So what's your answer, ma'am?"
With a small smile, she said, "I'd be happy to accept your invitation, sir."
Less than thirty minutes before we were to land in Spring Hill, Linda called back. I answered her pad-ping by switching the console screen from the Internet to her pad link.
She appeared and said, "Well, that was quick. Sorry, Ed, but you're on standby alert as of now."
I laughed, "Oh, damn! Oh, bummer! Y'know, Linda, I can't remember being off standby alert more than three hours or so since the day you called me back to work."
"Well, be that as it may, we just got word of probable retaliation by members of Hamas."
"They're a Palestinian outfit. Are they exporting, now?"
Nodding, Linda said, "They're based in Palestine, but they sell suicide bombers for a few thousand each plus postage."
"A service industry, huh? What's their company slogan? 'On time - and total destruction - or it's free'?"
With a wry sigh, Linda said, "If they actually have some kind of company slogan, it's buried under tons of bullshit rhetoric."
"That's because it wouldn't do for the peons to realize they're being marketed as exploding meat puppets. Did they come right out and name a target, milady?"
"Oh, yes. Definitely. They told a reporter that the destruction of 3rd World has been put at the very top of their agenda."
"The real top? Even above destroying the Jews?"
"Possibly so, at least for the moment."
"Well, damn. I guess they must really be pissed off, then, but that mountain wasn't a piece of Palestinian turf. Do you think they're pissed enough to send out freebies?"
Shaking her head, Linda grinningly said, "No. We've been tracking money transactions from six main sources. Hamas isn't doing any freebies for anybody. Look, I have to give a briefing a few minutes. I just wanted to tip you and the teams here at Carrington before anyone else. Later, Ed."
"Okay, Linda. Later."
I poked the Internet icon and visited a newsgroup that wasn't on my usual list; OSINT. The first two messages had Hamas in the subject line and provided links to news stories with excerpts from those articles.
Upshot: More than half a dozen Middle Eastern nations and groups were financing Hamas in an effort to destroy 3rd World or to "drive it off the face of the Earth", which I took to mean that they meant to force 3rd to move to the factory station.
"Absolutely amazing," I said. "They're upset because we made a mountain disappear, right? Hasn't it occurred to them that threatening 3rd World might be somewhat dangerous?"
Sue said, "While I realize that was a rhetorical question, I think they haven't realized any such thing. They know as well as everyone else on Earth that Amarans are conditioned against killing and that those employed by Amarans are prohibited from killing except as the most dire form of self-defense."
"Yeah, and your evacuation of the bunker proved all that."
Sue had been watching my Internet activities, but my comment caused her to glance sharply askance at me.
"Yup," I said. "It did. I would have hauled our own people out of there, then zapped the place with all hands still aboard. We're dealing with sociopaths and social primitives, Sue. As dramatic as blowing up that mountain was, it was only a half-assed effort as an example to Hamas and their ilk. They'll see your concern for their lives as a weakness they can exploit."
Giving me an arch look, she asked, "Need I ask what course of action you'd pursue?"
"Gee, I surely do doubt it, ma'am. Just look up what I said the last time the subject of terrorism came up. I think it was something like 'Hunt 'em down and kill 'em like rats.'"
Sue disappeared as we descended to my driveway. I grabbed my stuff and hopped off the flitter, then the flit rose to its usual parking place far above and I went into the house.
Tiger hopped onto the kitchen counter and greeted me with, "Elkor let me view your great accomplishment today as it occurred. I greet you proudly."
Since he usually spoke in much more abbreviated terms, I figured he'd asked Elkor how to say that and practiced it a few times. Even with his PFM collar to translate cat to English through the flitter's core, he still sounded like a Hollywood Klingon most of the time.
I picked him up and patted him as I replied, "Thanks, Tiger, but Steph, Elkor, and Sue did all the hard work."
Canting his head slightly, he said, "The guards. They tried to kill you. In that little room."
Shrugging, I said, "Well, yeah, they did. So how was your day, friend Tiger?"
"Quiet. There were no intruders today."
I almost laughed as I flicked open a kitty treat packet and put a few on the counter, but only almost.
"Excellent," I said, putting Tiger down near the treats, "I'm glad you had a safe, quiet day."
He solemnly said, "We must remain vigilant," before he began nibbling the little fish-shaped cat-candies.
Leaving him to his treats, I cleaned up a bit and went to bed with Brahms' 2nd piano concerto on the CD player. It had been a longish day. Sleep came almost immediately, and with it, a dream I hadn't had in years.
Crossing the sun-baked parking lot on my way to a nine o'clock appointment with Marine Major Cohn, I looked up at a palm tree and almost tripped over a miniature sand dune that had formed by a drainage gap in the concrete median.
Stopping between cars, I leaned on a van as I dumped sand out of my right shoe and watched other people step over or trudge through the little dunes on their way to work.
Drainage. What a laugh. This place hadn't seen a drop of rain in two thousand years. Someone had just re-used a parking layout from a building of about the same size in a more temperate region of the world.
The tiny dunes were formed by the capricious winds from the surrounding desert. In an hour or two they could be facing another direction or be gone altogether.
Mopping my face with one of my paper-towel handkerchiefs, I checked my watch. Only eight-thirty and already hot as hell. Screw the Middle East. As soon as this job was done, I'd...
A single sharp clap of thunder sounded from well beyond the sedan and I dropped flat as hard little bits of debris moving at high speed showered the parking lot, ricocheting off cars and starring and collapsing windshields for another hundred yards or more beyond me.
Some of the people who'd stopped to stare at the explosion were hit, some weren't. Those who'd been hit either lay still or made some effort to stop their bleeding. One man slowly went to his knees, fell face-forward, and didn't move again.
When more than ten seconds passed with no secondary blast, I went to see if the man was alive. He had a head wound and no pulse. A woman sat on the ground nearby, apparently in shock and bleeding from half a dozen small wounds. I pulled her into the small shade of a car and leaned her against it.
She looked at the front of her blouse and began screaming hysterically. She'd been peppered. Small, seeping holes, but no gouts of blood. I couldn't do anything for her except grab her face and yell at her to calm down and wait for help. She stared at me in silence briefly, then began screaming again.
I dragged four other people out of the path of traffic and used belts, shoelaces, and neckties to tie off bleeding arms and legs as required, then noticed a plywood sign the blast had thrown across the lot.
Using the roofs of two cars to support the ends of the sign, I rigged a shelter from the blazing sun for the wounded. One of the guys began tending the other people, so I went looking for more wounded.
As I was dragging an unconscious man to the shelter, three Marines in a jeep rolled up. They helped me move the guy and briefly checked the others as one Marine asked who I was.
"State Department," I said, showing him my ID.
"Right," he said, knowing a spook ID when he saw one. Gesturing at the sign, he said, "You're doing great. We'll call in and get some medics out here, so just hang on and hold things together a little longer, okay?"
They jogged back to the jeep and he got on the radio as they moved on down the line of cars. In the next row over, a car had swerved and hit another car.
The engine was still running, but as I got closer I saw the driver slumped over the steering wheel. When I tried to open the driver's door, I discovered it was locked. I climbed onto the hood and reached in to turn off the ignition, then checked the guy's pulse. He didn't have one.
I found two more wounded people in that row -- a man and a woman -- but both were able to walk to the shelter with a bit of help. She was a nurse and took over caring for the others as I made another trip into the surrounding parking lot.
Two more dead were all I found. I moved them out of the driveway and looked for my car. My little blue Fiat 124 Spyder convertible had been shielded by a white Ford sedan. Well, almost. There was a fist-sized hole in the ragtop. I looked inside and saw a broken car door handle on the back seat.
Opening the trunk, I took out my .45 and shoulder rig and strapped it on, then put on my light green windbreaker. As I adjusted the fit of the jacket, I wondered why I'd bothered with the gun.
If there'd been an assault team ready to followup the explosion, they'd have been well past me by now. They'd also have used a more direct route than a side parking lot, more than likely. Still, I didn't take off the .45 before heading back to the little group under the sign.
Two ambulances arrived with the same jeepful of Marines. Medics checked people in a cursory manner, then loaded them and left me standing with the same Marine who'd checked my ID. He eyed my .45, then asked if I'd been coming or going.
Moving to take the sign off the cars, I said, "I had a nine o'clock appointment."
He grabbed the other end of the sign and we carried it to the median as he asked, "An appointment? With who, sir?"
I didn't correct his English. "Major Cohn."
The Marine rubbed the back of his neck and swore softly as he looked at the smoking rubble. "He's dead, sir. We found him in what's left of the commo office."
"I still need to send a message. Who's taking his place?"
Shaking his head, the Marine said, "I don't know, sir. I can try to find out."
"Nah. Other people need you guys right now and someone's waiting for instructions. I'll head over to the embassy and send it from there."
With a salute, he said, "Yes, sir," and went to the jeep as I headed for my car. The Marine guard saw my local civilian license plate and stopped me.
As he checked my ID, he studied my car and asked, "Where'd you get this car, sir?"
"Rented it from a dealer."
"You're supposed to have US plates, aren't you?"
"Nope. I don't own it."
"You got paperwork for that .45?"
"In my briefcase. In the trunk."
A car horn sounded behind me and I looked in my rearview mirror. Big black car, diplomatic plates. The Marine handed back my ID and let me pass. I crossed the main road and took a few side streets to get to the embassy, where Eve MacLennie escorted me to the comm center after I cleaned up a bit.
"...to get up, Ed," Sue was saying, "Linda's waiting."
Feeling rather groggy, I glanced around. No Sue in sight. Keying my implant, I said, "Yeah. Okay. Tell her to hang on another minute while I hit the bathroom."
I took a leak, washed my face, combed my hair, and went back to the bedroom before I keyed up a field screen as I put my pants on and zipped up.
Linda eyed my upper torso and said, "Glad to see you're keeping fit. I need you in Washington at ten."
"D.C. or state?"
"D.C. Get the details from Sue. Gotta run. Later."
Nodding, I replied, "Yeah. Later," as she tapped off. The wall clock read eight-thirty. Damn. I felt as if I needed another hour or two in the sack. Coffee time.
After mixing an instant coffee, I took it to the back porch and sat down on my modified weight bench. When half the coffee was gone, I set it down and did twenty quick presses with fifty pounds on the bar, then grabbed the upper bar -- hence the word 'modified' before -- and did twenty quick semi-prone chinups.
"Time check, Sue?" I asked.
Sue appeared beside the bench. "Eight-forty-seven. Why don't you wear a watch?"
As I got up and headed for the yard, I said, "Gave up on 'em after number ten or so. They just stop or their batteries die or they get broken. Only ever had one that lasted longer than a year; it was a self-winding Timex they don't make anymore."
At two strides a second, it takes a bit more than a minute to jog around my back yard. I did ten laps and grabbed my coffee as I went back into the house.
Sue ran a field around the lid of a can of chicken soup as I entered the kitchen. The lid lifted away and she handed me the can as I took a vitamin pill.
I said, "Thank you, milady," then squeezed the can top to make pouring easier as I headed for the shower, eating the soup straight from the can.
Drifting along beside me, Sue said, "Some people would think eating soup from the can is rather unsophisticated."
"They aren't here to cook my breakfast."
"I'd make your breakfast."
"No need, thanks. You haven't given me a hard time about my canned soups."
"If I did, would you let me make your breakfasts?"
"Nope. I like canned soups. They're quick and easy." Tossing the empty can in the bathroom trash, I added, "And there aren't any dishes to wash."
Sue gave me a look that said she had more to say about the matter, but she vanished as I turned on the shower. Some minutes later, as I made a coffee refill for the road, I noticed my backpack floating toward the front door.
"Wait one," I said, tossing can of chicken noodle soup that direction. "An emergency lunch, y'know."
The soup can stopped in mid-air and Sue appeared. She put the can in my backpack without comment -- in a manner which was itself a comment -- then went outside.
Tiger watched her go, then looked at me as I asked, "Do you want to come with us?"
"No," he said, "Cities smell bad. Sue is not pleased."
"She didn't get her way in something."
He regarded me for a moment, then said, "I like her."
I tried to figure out how that fitted into the rest of our conversation for a moment, then ruffled the fur of his face as I said, "I do, too, Tiger."
"You will continue to bring her home?"
"She lives here, Tiger. Of course I'll bring her home."
"No, she lives... everywhere."
An odd turn of words, a personal belief, or a mistranslation?
Patting him, I said firmly, "Tiger, she'll come home."
He said, "Good. Now you go?"
"Yup. Now I go." With a last pat, I said, "Hold the fort," and headed for the front door.
As I approached the flitter, I didn't see Sue aboard. Keying my implant, I asked, "You heard what Tiger said?"
"Yes," said Sue, appearing by the console.
My neighbor's beagle was going noisily insane at her laundry room door, but he couldn't get out to the yard. Just for the hell of it, I sent a tendril through the door about six inches above the step to stun him cold. The noise stopped.
"Was that really necessary?" asked Sue.
With a grin and a chuckle, I hopped aboard, sat down, and said, "Yup. Sure was."
"Why?"
"Can't have him passing out only when he's out in the yard barking at me. Consistency, ma'am." Eyeing her long, lovely, cutoff-clad legs, I said, "Not that I mind at all, of course, but we are on our way to Washington."
"If necessary, I'll change."
"Don't do it on my account, please. I like this outfit just fine. Linda said to ask you why we're going to D.C."
She turned on the console and a picture of a guy in his forties appeared on the screen.
"We're to work with Jack Inger from the State Department."
"The State Department that started in 1789, or the one I used to say I worked for?"
"He has credentials from both at the moment."
"Well, that's just peachy. What's the job and why've they dropped Inger on us?"
"We're to place ourselves directly above the city and wait to be told where we're needed. Inger will be our advisor in matters pertaining to international relations."
I just stared at her for a moment.
"An advisor? What the hell's he gonna 'advise' us about?"
"As I said, matters pertaining to..."
"That's blather and bullshit, ma'am. State handles foreign stuff. We're on US soil. Anyone who might try something nasty will also be on US soil when he does it, so where he came from is somebody else's aftermath issue. This setup stinks all to hell. Who stuck us with this guy?"
"Linda."
Sipping my coffee, I thought a moment, then sat back in my seat as I said, "Well, okay, then. No sweat."
It was Sue's turn to stare. "Okay? No sweat?"
"Yup." I sipped again and put my feet up.
Stephanie appeared and smilingly said, "I told you so," which had to be for my benefit, since she could simply have linked to Sue.
"Hi," I said. "Did you have a bet going, there?"
"No, just a mild disagreement about how you'd handle learning about Inger. Sue thought you'd go ballistic."
"Nah. Linda has a reason. Can you stay a while?"
She smiled again and took a seat. I invited her to choose some music for our short trip to D.C. and Laava's 'Wherever You Are' began, thumping out a dance beat.
"Good stuff," I said.
Sue said nothing, but seemed thoughtful.
At 3rd World's building in Arlington, Virginia, we settled to the roof as a Shakira song pounded to a conclusion. I picked up my coffee and handed Steph and Sue off the flitter as three people got out of the elevator.
"Flitter," I said, "Shields up and stay where you are."
When we stepped out of the flitter's field, the people stopped cold as they saw us appear from nowhere on the roof. One was a guard, who motioned the others to stay put and came forward alone to request ID from all of us.
I showed him mine and told him the ladies didn't have ID's, which seemed to agitate the guy considerably.
The thirtyish brunette woman in the group behind him stepped forward and said in a slightly chiding tone, "I tried to tell you, Ben. I even used the word 'unorthodox', didn't I?"
She stepped forward and said, "Hi. I'm Deana Saunder, communications," as the other guy came forward. Indicating him, she said, "This is Jack Inger. State Department."
We all shook hands in a fairly cursory fashion. Inger was maybe forty, had hard eyes and a quick, artificial handshake, and made no comment during the brief encounter.
After introducing Steph, Sue, and myself, I asked Saunder, "What's on the agenda, ma'am?"
Saunder deferred the question to Inger, who said he'd prefer to fill us in once we were airborne.
Wryly shrugging a little 'he's like that' shrug, Saunder offered to take us to lunch if the day permitted. I tentatively accepted with thanks and she headed for the elevator.
"Where's the flitter?" asked Inger.
I said, "About fifteen feet in front of you."
Looking very dubious, Inger stepped forward and ungracefully met the flitter's gentle but unyielding barrier field. As he put his hands on the invisible wall, his demeanor seemed to change from terse and aloof to puzzled and irritated.
As we joined him by the flitter, I told Sue, "For now, milady, he's only allowed aboard when I'm present." Motioning to Inger, I led the way through the barrier field.
Having already encountered the field, he didn't simply start walking. He put a hand into the space in front of him and eased forward a pace, then another. We heard him gasp softly as the flitter became visible to him, then he stepped aboard with us.
Steph sat on my left and Sue sat on my right. Inger was silent as he took the seat beyond Sue's and glanced around the flitter yet again, his gaze eventually coming to rest on Steph.
I asked, "Ever been on a flitter before, Inger?"
He tensed slightly as he said, "No, but I read up on them when they told me I'd be on one today."
"Flitter," I said, "Granny mode is on for now. Take us up to ten thousand feet, please."
Granny mode is sixty miles per hour, decided upon as a speed even the most nervous of passengers could handle. Inger held himself together well enough as we ascended, but I could see the vein in his temple pound as he stared over the side.
Sitting up, Inger quizzically said, "Uh... there's no noise..."
"Sorry," I replied. "What kind of noise would you like?"
His quizzical expression got worse. "What?"
"Noise. You want some? No problem."
Inger's expression quickly became neutral and he said, "Never mind," as he returned to looking at the city below.
"Well, I want some," I said. "Flitter, play the Creedence Clearwater Revival greatest hits album, please."
'Green River' began playing. Inger sat straight again and looked around the flitter, then asked where the speakers were.
"No speakers," I said. "Fields do it. Why are you here?"
Eyes change when subjects change. Inger's pupils contracted instantly, although nothing else about him reacted.
Turning to Sue, I said, "Aw, hell. He just went three feet deeper into spook mode."
Inger responded, "Now, wait just one damned minute..."
As we all looked at him, he seemed to give the matter some thought, then leaned his elbows on his knees in a 'just us at the campfire' posture and said, "Okay. I can see you aren't the kind of people who need... um, 'alternative explanations'."
Uh, huh. That meant we'd likely get exactly that.
"The fact is," he continued, "Threat levels have been revised sharply upward since yesterday. People from all agencies have been put on alert teams. Some of the usual rules are being circumvented by interagency personnel loans in order to have enough people in enough places at once."
He stopped talking and glanced over the side again before returning his gaze to us.
I said, "That doesn't tell me why you're on my flitter."
"I'm sure you were briefed about..."
"Pretend we weren't."
Inger frosted over and said, "Maybe I should talk to your superior officer before we go any farther with this."
Keying up a field screen made Inger sit bolt-upright in his seat and stare as I poked Linda's flapping lips icon.
"What the hell is that?"
"Just watch the screen."
"Yes, Ed?" Linda answered, then said, "Hi, Steph and Sue. I see you managed to locate Mr. Inger."
"Yes'm," I said, "Deana Saunder saved us the trouble of looking for him. He thinks he ought to talk to you before he tells us anything useful."
Although it didn't last long, Inger's shocked, 'you work for her?!' expression was fairly priceless.
"Ah... Good morning, Ms. Baines," he said, "I was just... ah... being careful. I wasn't told he'd have company."
"He had the same company in Iran yesterday, Mr. Inger. They're cleared for any 3rd World operations. You may meet someone named Elkor later. He's cleared, too."
Nodding slightly, Inger said, "Oh. I see. Well, then, I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you, ma'am."
"No problem. Ed, a number of agencies have pooled personnel resources to try to capture terrorist prisoners in a clandestine manner. Should you acquire any, Mr. Inger will make arrangements for them. That's about it."
"Thought it was something like that. Thanks, Ms. Baines."
Grinning at my use of her last name, Linda asked, "Is there anything else?"
Inger said, "No, ma'am."
"Guess not," I said.
Saying, "Later, then," Linda tapped her screen off.
After a moment, Inger relaxed and said, "You could have told me who your boss is. Anyway, that's about the size of it. If we catch any bad guys, I'll make arrangements."
Sipping my coffee, I waited for the inevitable, and it didn't take long at all to arrive.
Sue stood up and turned to face us, then said, "Ed, they're going to gather prisoners at Andrews AFB, interrogate them, then send them back to their home countries."
Inger looked rather startled, but kept silent.
I shrugged. "Well, that's devious enough, isn't it? Good. No point in jailing them, anyway. They'd just become martyrs at taxpayer expense and their buddies might try to spring them by taking hostages. This way it'll be harder for them to reenter the US and we're only out plane fare. Could even be that their friends will see them as soiled goods if we hold 'em for a week or two before we let them go."
"Soiled goods?"
"Yup. They aren't a real sophisticated bunch. Separate them during the holding phase here in town. Take each prisoner aside and offer to send him home if he talks. Give 'em a bus ride to Andrews -- the longest way possible -- as time to whisper about things, then separate them again. Send a few of them home individually, let them go, and watch them closely. Attribute certain information to each of them in a believable manner and wait to see who gets upset about it."
Sue cocked her head and gazed intently at Inger as she said, "That's almost exactly what they plan to do. Would you care to confirm that, Mr. Inger?"
Inger said, "I think I should probably ask how you two know what you've just..."
"Don't bother," I interrupted. "We couldn't tell you." To Sue, I asked, "Got any problems with their plans?"
"One in particular," said Sue. "Some of those they release will undoubtedly be killed."
"Gee. Too bad. A certain amount of risk kinda goes with their chosen career path, anyway, doesn't it?"
Sipping my coffee, I said, "In fact, the agencies could go one step farther with things if they're willing to push matters a little. Give the baddies a reason to see a doctor. Shot during capture, maybe. An accidental broken arm or leg or a cut on a vehicle door or some little bug that makes their guts knot up. During treatment, they could bone-tag 'em with trackable isotopes or whatever's state of the art these days."
Sue's 'horrified' expression was much like Selena's, I noted; she wore it for some moments, then let it morph to anger.
"I can't be part of something like that, Ed."
"I damned sure can. Tag and release. No harm done. Works just fine for wild animals and people under house arrest who have to wear ankle bracelets."
In a flat tone, she said, "Applied in this manner, it's illegal."
"Legal is whatever governments decide to call legal. Are you for letting those assholes run loose in the world?"
Giving me her best glare, she said, "You know my legal limitations, Ed. I can't be part of something like this."
Turning to Steph, I asked, "What about it? Can she?"
"Under existing laws, no. Shouldn't you be asking how agencies of your government can operate illegally?"
With a short laugh, I said, "They always have, to one degree or other. Rules get bent all to hell all the time. This may be the first time they've been bent for good reasons, though."
Steph gave me a fisheye look and said, "I have a business elsewhere. You're on your own with this one," and vanished.
Inger sounded as if he was choking as I turned to Sue.
"What about you? Are you gonna ghost out on me, too?"
"Yes," she said, "I want no part of this." Turning to Inger, she said, "Mr. Inger."
Taking his wide-open eyes off Steph's empty seat, Inger met Sue's gaze as he whisperingly replied, "Yes, ma'am?"
"Goodbye," she said, rather theatrically waving a hand with a snap of her fingers as she also vanished.
"Oh, lord..." muttered Inger, staring wide-eyed at the space where she'd stood.
Steph was gone, but Sue wasn't. I could feel her presence looming fairly near us. Getting out of my seat, I ambled to the back of the flitter and sipped coffee as I keyed my implant.
"Sue, look up the definition of 'goodbye' sometime. You'll find it usually pertains to an actual departure."
She snickered. "I didn't say I wouldn't watch. Besides, I'm supposed to keep an eye on you."
"Uh, huh. You made quite an impression, ma'am. Inger looks as if he's still in shock."
"He'll probably survive."
"Yeah, likely so."
Inger cleared his throat behind me. I turned to see him get out of his seat and carefully approach the edge of the deck to peer at the ground below.
He asked, "Shouldn't this thing have rails or something?"
"You planning to fall overboard?"
Stepping back, he said, "Not today. Those women were just holograms, weren't they?"
"Are holograms solid? You shook hands with them."
"So what are they, then?"
"They're my friends. Back to business. Are we supposed to be doing anything other than hanging around in the sky?"
Giving me a rather studying look, Inger said, "Not yet. If some intel pans out, we may be called to intercede. Until then, we wait."
Grinning, I replied, "'Intercede', huh? Can you be a little more specific, or were you thinking of trying to call the shots regarding the use of this flitter?"
He actually seemed startled.
"Actually, yes. I was. I was given to understand that you and your flitter had been placed at our disposal."
"Uh, huh. Well, you weren't given that 'at your disposal' stuff by me, so don't call it gospel. If you knew anything about flitters, nothing that's happened since you came aboard would have startled you. It might be better if you just point us to the action and leave the driving to me."
Adopting a somewhat defensive demeanor, Inger said, "You might want to check with your boss again before you continue telling me how you think things are going to be."
"Flitter," I said, "Upside down, please," and the flitter flipped like a coin.
Inger shrieked and looked for something to grab onto. He ended up lunging for the nearest flitter seat, which he clung to for dear life as he stared up at the patchwork Earth.
I walked past him to the pilot's seat and put my feet up on the console, then finished my coffee and set my mug on the deck by my seat.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" screamed Inger, still wrapped around the seat and staring upward at the Earth.
"I'm just showing you where you stand in things, Inger. Or, actually, where you can't stand in things. You can't fly my flitter, so you'll tell me where we need to be and who to target for capture. The rest we'll discuss at the time." Pointing upward at the ground, I said, "Hey, kewl! There's the airport, and there's Ft. Meyer, and..."
"Get us back upright!"
Shrugging, I replied, "You do it. If you can."
Inger yelled, "Flitter! Put us back upright! Rightside up! Now!"
Nothing happened.
"All right! Okay!" he yelled, "You've made your point! Just get us back upright!"
"Flitter, rightside up, please."
The flitter flipped like a coin again. I requested a few new tunes to replace the CCR album and the Dixie Chicks began singing 'Long Time Gone' as Inger unwrapped himself from the seat and stood up.
Inger was shaking as he hauled himself upright with the aid of the flitter seat. Some of his tremulousness had to be sheer anger, but I'd say most of it was residual terror and adrenaline.
Looking at him, I said, "I didn't do that to embarrass you, Inger. I did it to cut through all the usual 'who's in charge' bullshit. I was asked to work with you, and that's fine, but your job is target acquisition and disposition. Nothing else."
His legs still seemed a bit shaky. Sitting down, he glared at me for a time as I called up the video to go with the song and restarted the tune.
The sexy blonde lead singer happily belted out the song in a Mexican pool hall as Inger took a deep breath and straightened his coat and tie.
Keying my implant, I called up a six-foot field screen to make the video more or less life-sized and studied the blonde dancing before me.
She was cute, sexy, and generally gorgeous, but so short. Oh, well. The woman who'd played Gabrielle on Xena had been kind of short for my taste, too, but her grand little bod had been the main reason I'd watched the show.
Inger had frozen in mid-tie-adjustment when the full-sized screen appeared. He stared at it for a moment, then his gaze switched to me.
"You didn't say anything to the flitter to make that happen."
"Maybe you didn't hear it."
Shaking his head, he said, "Uh-uh. No. You didn't say anything at all. How'd you do that?"
"Maybe I'm psychic. Don't worry about it."
As I spoke, Inger's right hand slipped into his coat.
"Flitter," I said, "Intercept all telephone or radio calls to or from Inger and route them through the console."
Inger's hand stilled, then emerged empty from his coat.
Gathering moisture from the air, I rinsed my coffee mug and tossed the contents over the side, then refilled the mug and sent a tendril into the water to heat it.
Pulling my little jar of instant coffee from my backpack, I eyeballed about a spoonful in the jar lid, dumped it into the hot water, and turned my back to Inger as I stirred the mix with a field tendril and dropped the jar back into my pack.
As I sipped the brew Inger pointed at the deck and said, "We could have stopped at a Starbucks down there. They're all over the place in Washington."
"It isn't too late. Want to go downstairs and find one?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Sure."
"Flitter, take us to the nearest Starbucks, please."
We dropped straight down, still in granny mode. Inger took it well enough, gripping his seat and watching the ground rise to meet us. He moved my backpack as he swiveled his seat for a better view.
Parking was a problem, of course. I directed the flitter to a nearby construction area and told Inger I'd wait for him. He looked dubious about getting off the flitter.
"Just go get your coffee," I said, eyeing the construction activity around us, "I may have to move, but I'll stay near here or have the flitter call your cell phone with directions."
He nodded and hopped to the ground, then started walking toward the coffee shop on the corner, looking back once for a long moment before entering the shop.
Standing up, I moved around the flitter examining the seats and console, then knelt by my backpack. Rather than dump it out, I said, "Flitter, I think Inger may have placed one or more listening devices aboard. If so, bring them to me, please."
"There is only one," said the flitter, as a dime-sized black dot floated up from my backpack.
As the dot settled into my hand, I said, "Thank you. Disable it, please, and tell me when you've done so. And in the future, let me know through my implant if anyone else places or brings an active listening device aboard."
The flitter said, "It is now disabled."
Placing the dot on Inger's former seat, I said, "Thanks," and refastened my backpack's closures. "That ought to make his phone ring fairly quickly."
It did. The console came on and I heard coffee shop noise before Inger answered his cell phone with, "Yes?"
A man's voice asked, "Where are you?"
"Getting a coffee so I could get away to call you. He's routed all calls through the flitter."
"He did what? You're sure?"
"I've seen enough to believe it. If you call me while I'm aboard, assume it'll go through the flitter console."
After a pause, the man said, "He found your bug and disabled it the minute you stepped off the flitter. Does he seem to be cooperating?"
Inger hesitated slightly, but said, "Yes, he seems to be."
"Good. Latest word is the Butler building, but that hasn't been confirmed yet. We'll keep you posted."
The caller hung up and Inger turned off his phone. I called up a picture of the Butler building on the console. It was just another big-assed box with sixteen floors, flat walls, recessed windows, parking underground, and offices for a dozen or so government agencies.
"Huh," I muttered, "I wouldn't try to bring explosives into a building in downtown D.C. these days. I'd have installed them some time ago and wouldn't have to do more than push a button to set them off. Flitter, send probes into the Butler building. We're looking for explosives and toxins. Mark the locations of whatever you find on a schematic diagram, please. Explosives red, toxins green."
As indicators began blanketing the picture of the building, I muttered, "Jesus! What the hell..?" and poked one of the reds for further info. A view of a pistol on a guard's belt popped up in a separate window.
"Flitter, disregard handgun and rifle ammo inside weapons and vehicle fuels and lubricants that are in use in vehicles."
There were still a hell of a lot of indicators. I poked a green one and a can of Lysol spray appeared on the screen.
"Verify the contents of all spray cans and other containers. If they're commercial cleaning products or products that can be bought in a grocery store, disregard them. We're looking for explosives that could equal or exceed the force of a military hand grenade and toxins that appear to be packaged for deliberate dispersal in some fashion."
Inger was walking past the flitter with two coffees, looking around the lot. I stood up and stepped to the ground to change his direction. He held a coffee out to me as he approached.
"Thought you might like some real coffee."
"Not espresso?"
"Nope. Plain ol' coffee. Sugar and cream in the bag."
I thanked him and led him aboard the flitter. He saw the diagram on the console and asked what I was doing.
I told him about the probes and he asked in an odd tone, "No shit?" and sat down to study the screen.
"The flitter's doing the searching? Really?"
"Yup. Just touch the screen to see what the red and green marks are about."
Reaching to the screen, he touched a red spot and a window popped up that identified the location as containing a box of .40 caliber pistol ammo.
"Probably for a guard's Glock," I said, tapping the window closed and touching a green spot.
A window showed us a bottle inside a desk drawer. The toxin indicated was alcohol; vodka in a fancy bottle.
"Flitter," I said, "Verify contents of commercial liquor containers. If all they hold is booze, disregard."
Roughly a quarter of the green spots disappeared.
"Buncha drunks," I muttered, "Now disregard commercially packaged cigarettes, cigars, and other tobacco products."
Most of the green spots disappeared. Tapping the remaining green spots revealed insecticides, deodorants, and so on.
Long red lines suddenly appeared in the basement and parking regions of the schematic.
"Flitter, what are you currently finding?"
The flitter's impassive voice replied, "Plastic explosives in metal tubing."
"Oh, good God," muttered Inger.
I put a finger on one of the red lines and said, "Show me video of this location."
A window popped up that displayed a blank concrete wall.
"The explosives are built into the walls?"
"Yes," said the flitter.
"Locate the detonator mechanism and disable it, please. Let me know when you've done so."
"I've done so."
"What kind of detonator is it? Mechanical or radio?"
"Radio."
Inger had his phone out. He tapped a number and I heard him say, "Ingers here. Get me Kiest," as I said, "Flitter, display the details of the detonator for Ingers, including the radio frequency or frequencies it uses."
The schematic was replaced with a picture of the detonator and various details on a sidebar.
"Great job, flitter," I said, "Now send Linda a copy of all the Butler building data. If anyone attempts to set off those explosives, track the signal to its source and hard-stun whoever's trying to set them off. If he or she isn't alone, stun everybody within twenty feet. If they're in a moving vehicle, don't stun the driver, but disable their engine and take us there as quickly as possible. And stay subsonic, please. We don't want to break any windows."
Turning to Inger, I asked, "Linda Baines will ship copies of the info to your offices. Think that about covers things?"
Nodding and grinning, he said, "Oh, hell, yes!"
"There's always somebody who won't think so. What have we forgotten?"
"Damned if I know. This is gold!" He turned his attention to his phone as a man said, "Kiest. What've you got, Inger?"
"Jim, confirm the Butler building. You'll get the details from 3rd World in a minute or two."
"Jack, I don't know..."
"Well, by God, you will soon, I promise you that! This stuff's gold, Jim! Just stand by for the 3rd World feed. Out."
He snapped his phone shut and eyed me for a moment.
"How the hell did you know to look in the Butler building?"
"I told the flitter to feed your calls through the console. You received a call in the coffee shop."
"But I wasn't on the flitter."
"I didn't say 'only aboard the flitter', did I? By the way, you're sitting on your bug."
With a certain degree of startlement, Inger realized there was something on his seat and leaned forward. Picking up the bug, he examined it as he said, "Sorry, but I had to do that."
"Uh, huh. Well, I fried it." When he looked sharply at me, I fed his words back to him. "Sorry, but I had to do that. Flitter, take us back up to ten thousand, please."
It was almost four in the afternoon when the flitter abruptly began to descend. "Granny mode off," I said, and our descent became a hair-raising plummet toward the ground.
Inger let out a half-shout of startlement and gripped the edges of his seat as I told the flitter to put our destination on the console screen.
A white Chevy sedan had stopped in the middle of the street, a block from the Butler building and smack in front of the Smithsonian's 'Air and Space' building.
Inger flipped his phone open and hit a button, then began a running report as we watched a man with a pistol open the driver's door and get out, repeatedly pushing a button on something in his left hand as he held it above the car.
Perhaps upset that the Butler building didn't explode on cue, he yelled something that sounded nasty, threw the device in his hand at the pavement, and ran around the front of the car toward the 'Air and Space' building.
I told the flitter to stun him while we were still over a thousand yards up, but the stun didn't reach him before the guy started shooting at people in his way on the steps. Two people fell and one of the museum's huge front windows turned to sparkly debris before the terrorist went down.
"Sue," I said, but she'd already appeared on the steps beside the man and woman who'd been shot.
"They're alive and I've called 911," she said through my implant. "Both have superficial wounds."
"Thanks, milady. Flitter, land on the car, conceal it, and lift it to the clear area on the grass to our left. Keep the passengers stunned, conceal and pick up the guy on the steps, and put them all on your rear deck, please."
Through my implant, Sue said, "Ed, a doctor has arrived. Do you need my help?"
"No, I think we've got it here. Stay there; the doc may need your help. This end of things is Inger's job, anyway. You might want to check out the 'Air and Space' building like we checked the Butler building. It's possible they planned to do something dramatic here, too."
I turned to Inger and asked, "What about the car?"
Watching the men float onto the deck, he said, "One of our people will be here shortly to take care of it." He pointed at a man in a jogging outfit who was sprinting toward us across the Washington Mall. "That's him, in fact. He knows we're invisible. I told him to stop at the trash can and head west very carefully until he could see the car."
Gesturing at the guys on the deck, he said, "We're taking these assholes to the roof of the Forrestal building."
The winded runner almost slid to a stop by the trash can, put on some cotton gloves, and moved westward with his hands outstretched like a blind man. Three steps later he was inside our field and could see the car.
Without hesitation, he got in and started the engine and Inger's phone said, "I've got it in gear, but it isn't moving."
Ingers pressed a button and replied, "The flitter's holding it. Stand by. We'll get clear," and gave me a thumbs-up.
I said, "Flitter, release the car and take us to the roof of the Forrestal building, please," and we immediately rose westward.
The car below rolled back into the street and drove away as two ambulances arrived and medics ran to the steps. Sue backed away from the people on the steps and disappeared.
Sipping from my coffee mug, I asked, "Are we expecting any more attempts today?"
Shaking his head, Inger said, "Not that I know of. The Butler was advertised as an immediate retaliation. They wanted us to know where to watch or we wouldn't have been fed the tip."
As we settled to the roof of the Forrestal building, the flitter said, "Linda's calling."
A dozen men and women emerged on the other side of the roof and looked around rather excitedly.
"Thanks, flitter. Put her on the screen and take us closer to those people on the roof. Let them come aboard to remove the prisoners, but not otherwise without my okay."
We moved toward them as Linda appeared on the console and said, "Sue sent me the data. Any problems?"
"No problems," I said as our field enveloped two of the people and we became visible to them. Inger hopped off and -- as he'd said -- made arrangements. Within moments they had the prisoners off my deck and into an elevator.
While he was 'ashore', I asked, "What now, Linda?"
"I've sent our flits to D.C. to inspect buildings. Elkor, Steph, and Sue have agreed to assist with inspections. I'd like you to stick around, too, in case anything else comes up."
"Well, anything for my Fearless Leader, of course, but how long are we talking about me 'sticking around'?"
Linda snickered, "Such selfless devotion. A few hours or so while we monitor a few things. Oh, and Deanna offered to take you to dinner on 3rd World's nickel. What should I tell her?"
"Tell her I skipped lunch and she shouldn't get too close to me until I've been fed."
"How about I just tell her you said 'yes'?"
Shrugging, I said, "Yeah, okay. That'll do, too, I guess."
"Okay. Meet her at five in her office at the 3rd World building. Call her if you'll be late. Oh, by the way; her husband will be with her. Still want to go?"
Sighing, I said, "That must mean she's not going to pounce on me later. Oh, well. Might as well take the dinner anyway."
Laughing, Linda poked her 'off' icon. I saw Inger end a talk with someone by the elevator and watch the door close, then he seemed to straighten and take a breath before he came jogging toward the flitter, slowing some distance away and easing forward in a hurried fashion. Once he saw the flitter, he took two strides and hopped aboard.
"Done!" he said exuberantly. "By God, we did it! This morning they were giving long odds, but we fucking did it!"
"No hugging," I said, raising a hand. "Try to remember it's just a job."
Ingers grabbed my hand in a shake, laughed, and said, "Come on downstairs and meet some of the people in support."
"Can't. Got a dinner date at five."
He just blinked at me for a moment. "No shit?"
"No shit. I've been invited to dinner. Somebody thought I'd starve if she didn't feed me."
After another moment, he asked, "She? Ms. Baines?"
"Nope. She's in Carrington."
"How do you know anyone here? You're from Florida."
"I know half a dozen people here, but what's that to either the State Department or the CIA?"
"She's with 3rd World?"
Giving him a big grin, I said, "That's something to check out, isn't it? Later, Inger."
When he didn't immediately respond, I added, "That was a hint. I have to get moving."
"You'll be around tomorrow?"
Shaking my head, I said, "Not without excellent reasons. I got the hell out of D.C. years ago. See you later."
He stalled, asking, "Is she one of the women who were with you when I first came aboard?"
"Nope. Sorry. Flitter, if Mr. Inger isn't off this deck in ten seconds, you're to pick him up and put him by the elevator."
Inger met my gaze for another couple of moments, then hopped over the side. Pissed? Not pissed? Hard to tell with company types. They're never off the clock.
When I landed on 3rd's roof, one man stood by the elevator door. I picked up my backpack and coffee mug and stepped off the deck into visibility as the flitter rose to parking altitude.
"Ms. Saunder told me to drop by for dinner," I told him.
He nodded and handed me a visitor's badge with my picture on it, saying, "We got the word a few minutes ago. Fourth floor, three doors on the right from the elevator." Looking over my fatigue shirt and jeans, he said, "Bill said you'd be going to dinner. Is that what you're planning to wear?"
Shrugging, I said, "Unless someone wants to loan me a suit, I guess so. Her husband's coming along, so it isn't a date."
"Got a gun in the pack? Any weapons?"
Extending the pack to him, I said, "Nope."
He didn't take it. Holding the elevator open, he asked, "You gonna leave your flitter on the roof?"
Clipping the badge to my shirt pocket flap, I said, "Nope. It's already gone."
When the doors opened on four, I headed to the right and found 'D. Saunder' on the third door, just as advertised. A white man and a black woman were having a subdued argument as I entered the office. Both were about five-seven, so they were almost nose-to-nose.
After a glance at me, the man picked up a paper on the desk and said he'd go up the line with it if he had to. The woman told him to do whatever he felt he had to do, then stepped around him to face me and asked as she eyed me, "May I help you?" in a manner that let me know I was interrupting her world.
She was thirty-something, black as a coal pit, and her hair was close-cropped as if she simply didn't want to deal with it. She had good legs, a workout figure, and lots of attitude, perhaps much of it residual from their confrontation.
I introduced myself and said I was there to see Deanna Saunder. The guy's eyebrow went up in a fisheye look and his eyes seemed to lock on my shoes for a moment.
Making a study of my fatigue shirt and jeans, the woman said, "She's out of the office at the moment."
"No problem. I'll wait."
Somewhat more firmly, she said, "She didn't say when she'd be back."
Equally firmly, I repeated, "No problem. I'll wait."
As she opened her mouth to say something else, I held up a hand and said, "I'm supposed to be here at five. I'll-wait."
The guy standing behind her saw her stiffen at my last words and grinned as he quickly stepped away from her. The woman bristled at me briefly, then turned to face him and told him she'd see him tomorrow.
Her tone made her statement an order of dismissal. With another grin, the guy raised his hands as if to keep her from attacking and eased around her to the door.
In a confidential tone on the way out, he stage-whispered, "Good luck, boyo. You'll need it."
As soon as the door closed behind him, the woman's gaze narrowed at me and she said in a tight voice, "Now, sir, I'm Roberta Lincoln, Ms. Saunder's personal assistant. I'd know if she had dinner plans, and she didn't..."
Holding up a hand to interrupt her, I said, "Just put all that on the shelf for a minute, lady. Why the hell would I lie to you? Check it out with Deanna."
Taking a seat on the couch, I set my coffee mug down and called up a field screen to check my email. Lincoln acted about the same as if I'd pulled a gun, backing up a pace with a soft, gasping, high-pitched, "Ahh!"
Since I'd thought just about everybody knew about the new PFM's that were supposed be appearing soon, her startlement startled me, as well.
I asked, "What? It's just a field screen. You use them, too."
She straightened and her gaze narrowed as she brought a flat, brushed-steel lozenge about an inch long and two inches wide and held it up between her thumb and index finger.
"Not without one of these, we don't..." Suddenly pointing at me, she replied, "Now I know who you are! Why are you wearing a visitor's badge?"
I let the field screen disappear and shrugged.
"A guard handed it to me when I came in." Plucking at my shirt, I added, "He seemed to think my outfit needed a little something extra."
Her eyebrow went up. "It does if you're going to dinner with Ms. Saunder. Did you bring a suit?"
"Nope. Any chance she'll settle for a nice buffet restaurant?"
Lincoln's bark of laughter was sharp. "I doubt it."
Hm. I fed Lincoln some theta waves as I keyed my implant and asked, "Sue? Can you spare a minute?"
Giving me an odd look, Lincoln muttered, "Huh?" just as Sue appeared beside her. Even with the theta waves, Lincoln looked as if she might freak out a little, so I boosted the feed.
"This is my friend Sue," I said. "Sue, this is Roberta Lincoln, Deanna's personal assistant. I called because I may soon have a wardrobe problem."
Sue gave me a saccharine grin and said, "No, I simply won't allow myself to say it."
Returning her grin in kind, I said, "Good. I haven't had to order anyone to scrub a latrine with a toothbrush for a long time. You and Steph wear field-generated clothes. Is there any reason I couldn't add a few outfits to the ones already on tap?"
Shrugging, she said, "No problem."
Lincoln had relaxed to the point that my theta waves were almost making her drowsy. I canceled them. She immediately tightened up and took a deep breath.
"Uhh..." she said, shaking her head slightly, "I, uh, I don't... You're his computer? I mean..."
With just a trace of frost in her voice, Sue said, "I am a computer program and I've been assigned to assist him, but I'd stop well short of calling myself 'his' computer."
Instantly looking apologetic, Lincoln quickly said, "Oh. Uh, no offense, ma'am. I only thought... well, I mean..."
The door opened and Deanna entered past a guy in a corduroy sports jacket, saving Lincoln from having to continue. The guy stopped just inside the office and looked me over as Deanna came forward with an outstretched hand.
"Hi, Ed. This is Sue, right?"
"Right," said Sue, also shaking her hand.
Deanna interrupted the handshake to study Sue's hand and breathed, "Wow! You look and feel so real!"
Stepping forward, the guy said, "Mark Saunder. I heard all about you this afternoon." Switching his gaze and handshake to Sue, he added, "You too, ma'am. They say you can appear and disappear at will. Is that true?"
Vanishing while still shaking his hand, Sue said, "Yes, it is, Mr. Saunder."
Saunder froze and stared at his apparently empty hand that didn't feel empty at all. Sue reappeared as he released her hand. Laughing, Deanna took his arm and patted his shoulder as he continued to gaze thoughtfully at Sue.
Then Deanna's gaze turned to me. Her eyebrows went up as she 'discovered' my golf shoes and she cleared her throat.
I turned to Sue. "Like I said, a possible wardrobe problem."
A field screen full of men's clothing appeared in front of me as everyone seemed to retreat a pace in surprise. I motioned to Deanna and Roberta Lincoln to come take a look.
"You ladies pick something. If I agree, Sue can make it happen."
After an amazed glance at Sue, Deanna took a close look at me, then chose a dark teal sports jacket, a medium-blue casual shirt, and slacks to match the jacket.
Roberta shrugged and said, "Yeah. That'll work," then asked, "What about shoes?"
"Boots," I said. Turning to Sue, I asked, "How about my gray suedes? Think those would do?"
"Probably. Should I begin now?"
"You can use my office," said Deanna, pointing at the door beyond Roberta's desk.
"Not necessary," said Sue. "I can use masking fields."
The field screen expanded to become seven feet tall, three feet wide, and its surface became a mirror. I saw that I was now wearing the clothes from the catalog.
Through my implant, Sue said, "I've added this outfit to your implant's programming. Just say 'six suit on' when you want it."
Nodding, I fingered the field generated 'material' of the jacket and said aloud, "Thanks, Sue. This is great! I won't even have to dump my pockets. Have I called you a creature of magic lately?"
As the others also fingered my jacket and shirt, she said, "Yes. Last Thursday afternoon."
Taking her hand and kissing it, I said, "Well, it's still true, milady. Will you be coming to dinner with us?"
She smilingly looked at the others and replied, "If nobody objects to the fact that I don't eat."
Deanna blinked at her, then laughed, "What? No! I mean, that doesn't matter. You're welcome to join us, Sue." Glancing around, she asked, "Is everybody ready to go?"
Roberta went to the desk for her purse as Mark opened the door to the corridor, then we filed out and headed for the elevators.
"The restaurant is only a block away," Deanna said to me, "So we're walking. I hope you like American food."
"Sure. Steak. Potatoes. The good stuff."
"I can't believe you're a computer," Roberta said to Sue, and thus began a discussion of capabilities and limitations that lasted until we were outside and halfway to the street corner.
As we waited for the light to cross the intersection, a black, gold-trimmed 1970-something Cadillac full of black guys went past on the other side of the street, its boom-box stereo filling the area with barely intelligible rap noise.
The Caddy slowed with some hoots and hollers and a "Woooo, mama!", then did a U-turn and cruised to a stop in front of us as the front passenger turned the noise down a bit.
There were five guys in the car, and every damned one of them seemed to have something to say about the women of our group before the front passenger grinningly asked Roberta, "Whassa fine ho like you doin' with all them whiteys? Don' you wanna hang with your own kind? Don' you wanna try some fine black meat like we got in this car?"
He pointed at his lap and shared a fat laugh with everybody else in the car. Roberta reached into her purse and the guy reacted by quickly opening his door and lunging at her.
"You ain't gonna mace my ass, bitch! You ain't gonna..."
His hand locked on her wrist as her right foot flashed upward in an apparent attempt to try to punt his balls up into his brain. The guy froze, paled, and retched beside the car as Roberta's hand emerged from her purse with a stun wand.
She stunned him hard, almost putting him out cold as he landed in his own mess and prevented the car's back door from opening. The driver's side doors of the car opened almost instantly and two guys got out while the other two in the back seat scooted across to do the same.
One of the guys sliding across the back seat produced a gun. Roberta and I both stunned him through the window. The guy slumped back and rolled onto the floor.
The driver skirted the front of the car as the others came around the back. Roberta stunned the nearest one, but couldn't hit the one behind him until the first one went down.
I whispered, "Five suit on," and waited for the driver. When he saw I wasn't retreating, he gorilla-walked to one side of me to try separate me from the others and I let him do it instead of stunning him.
When his fist came at me, I was ready; I ducked and he spent half a second off balance. My foot came up and the toe of my field-generated boot met his gut twice before I stepped back to see how he'd take that.
He took it pretty well, actually, in that he wasn't completely doubled over and was still on his feet instead of his knees. As he glared up at me, I keyed my implant and created a small ball of sunshine-bright fire just above my left hand, then made it drift toward him.
As the tiny sunball came within a couple of feet of him, he felt its heat and his eyes got even bigger. Expanding the sunball to about the size of a baseball, I let it settle over the hood ornament on the Caddy.
Smoke from burning paint and plastic rose instantly as I said, "If you guys don't want to walk home, you'll haul ass before that burns through to the engine."
By then the others -- including the one Roberta had kicked -- were on their feet and backing away from us. One turned and ran from the scene as the driver screamed about the damage to his car and hurried to get back in and get it away from the ball.
As he reached for the gear shift, I let the sunball dissipate and the guy screeched again at the small crater in the hood of his car, but he took the opportunity to slam the car into drive and burn rubber through another U-turn and away from us.
One guy barely managed to get most of himself into the car as it started moving and accelerated. They blew past the running guy over a block away without stopping for him.
When I turned around, I saw that everyone but Sue and me had their stun wands out. All of them were looking at me.
Mark Saunder stared at me and quietly, intently asked, "Whatthe-fuck-was-that?!"
Meeting his gaze, I said, "A teaching tool. Maybe they learned some manners today." Gesturing ahead, I said, "The light's green. Let's go eat," and started walking as I whispered, "Five suit off."
Sue and I were a third of the way across the street before the others got moving and hurried to catch up. Roberta seemed a little pissed about something, so I asked what was wrong.
"I could have handled them," she snapped as we reached the other sidewalk.
Shrugging, I replied, "I know that. You had a stun wand."
"So why did you jump in with that... that thing?"
"They pissed me off, too, y'know. Now drop it."
Moving to grab my arm, she glaringly said, "You don't give me orders." Nodding at Deanna, she added, "That's her job."
Stopping, I pried her fingers off my arm and said, "Yeah, fine. Next time you get to zap all the bad guys. Now get off my ass about it."
Deanna touched Roberta's shoulder and quietly said, "He was just helping out. Let's go to dinner."
Roberta seemed to have more to say to me, but she remained seethingly silent as we all started walking again.
Typical of a town like D.C. at half past five, the restaurant's bar was packed, but there were half a dozen dining tables open. A hostess led us to one of them and hovered to take our drink orders before leaving us to look through our menus.
I set my coffee mug on the table, but put my hand over it as the waitress reached for it and said, "I'll get you a refill."
"No, thanks. I'll be drinking a beer with dinner."
Roberta had calmed down considerably after a whispered conversation with Deanna on the sidewalk. She still looked a bit tense, but she didn't seem pissed off at me anymore.
Mark Saunder abruptly said, "If you can do something like that fireball in the street, it can't be classified. What was it?"
"It was a field effect, Mark. I have a prototype PFM."
"What else can it do?"
"Stuns. Stuff like a warehouse model does."
He waited until the waitress had put our drinks down, taken our orders, and left us before he asked, "Can I see it?"
Sipping my gin and bitter lemon, I glanced at Sue. Through my implant, she said, "Look at your left forearm."
I felt something clasp around my arm and slid my jacket sleeve back to show them the silvery field on my arm.
"That wasn't there before," said Mark.
"Are you sure about that?"
"I am," said Roberta, "Absolutely sure. Your sleeves were up and your arms were bare. Not even a wristwatch."
"Three suit on," I said loudly enough to be heard.
They displayed all the usual shock and surprise when I disappeared.
I turned off my three suit, reappeared, and pushed my sleeve down as I asked, "Are you still absolutely sure?"
There was silence around the table. Deanna eyed me somewhat intently for a time as she sipped her drink, then she spoke quietly.
"Linda gave me the impression that you might turn down our invitation."
Shrugging, I replied, "I'm here."
"She said you were something of a loner."
"Mostly I am. Especially when I'm working."
Mark asked, "Why's that?"
Meeting his gaze, I said, "It's the way I like things."
"Sometimes it's good to have help."
Touching Sue's hand, I asked, "Better help than Sue? Very unlikely, Mark." Glancing at Sue, I grinningly added, "But I won't say 'impossible' because I don't want to feed her ego."
Sue's comment was a weary sigh and a wry look.
Deanna said, "I saw the mountain footage from yesterday. How did you make that happen, Ed?"
"I'd have to ask Linda before I discussed it, ma'am."
That made her eyebrow go up as she gave me a tense look. She evidently felt she was entitled to the details.
Speaking softly, but intently, she said, "I could call her for you. I'm sure she'd still be in her office."
I shrugged again and said, "Maybe she won't mind that we're sitting in a restaurant instead of your office." Looking around the table, I said, "And maybe my social skills are rusty. Maybe I should just clam up, have a nice, quiet dinner, and hit the road when it's over."
Putting her drink down, Deanna sighed and said, "Oh, hell, I didn't mean to turn that into a challenge. You're right. We're not in my office."
Our salads arrived. I doused mine with Thousand Island dressing and dug in. There was some superficial chat about the city, where else we'd all been, and what we'd done before joining 3rd World Products.
When I didn't say much about myself, Deanna said, "I looked you up yesterday, Ed. Were you really a mercenary, or did you just work for them?"
"I was a sergeant. A field medic."
Glancing at Deanna instead of me, Mark asked, "Where?"
"Africa," she said. "Before that, he was with your old company in Europe."
Turning to me, Mark asked, "You were CIA?"
"Just a local hire. Courier work. Like that."
Deanna snorted a small laugh and grinned as the waitress brought our food. I said, "Deanna can fill you in sometime," as the waitress sorted the platters among us.
By the time we'd all finished eating, I was ready to get back to the flitter and go find a nightclub. I faked a small yawn and said something about it having been a long day.
Turning immediately solicitous, Deanna said, "I'm sorry! I never thought to ask... With all the flitters tied up with building searches, you can't fly home tonight. Where are you going to stay, Ed? Do you have a room yet? Do you want us to..?"
Raising a hand, I said, "I'm all set. No sweat."
Mark asked, "You aren't just saying that, I hope?"
Shaking my head, I answered, "Nope. I'm all set if Linda decides I'm staying over."
Giving me an 'are you nuts?' look, Roberta asked, "If she decides you'll stay over? I'd think she would, since there are only three flitters to cover a hell of a lot of buildings."
Looking at Sue, I asked, "How's progress?"
She instantly replied, "There are four hundred and seventy-one buildings still to inspect. If you want to sleep in your own bed tonight, we could leave in about an hour, providing Linda has no other reasons for you to be here."
Various sounds of astonishment and disbelief emanated around the table as I answered, "Sounds good. Has anyone suggested leaving the probes in place for future searches?"
"No, but I'd planned to do it anyway." She faced Deanna and added, "Your offices will govern their local use."
Nodding, Deanna replied, "Uh... My God, Sue, that would be excellent! You're saying we could run a search like today's anytime we wanted?"
"Yes. I've also added certain people to search parameters for publicly-owned properties. No search warrant required."
Roberta still seemed stunned by the time required to search nearly five hundred buildings. Deanna muttered, "My God," again and looked at Mark with an expression of subdued astonishment. He met her gaze with one just like it.
Standing up, I gestured a flourish at Sue as I said, "Like I said, it would be damned hard to find better help." In a stage-whisper to Sue, I added, "I think you've impressed them, milady. Do you want to stay and schmooze a while? I'm going back to the flitter and..."
As I reached for my coffee mug, Roberta said, "Wait a minute, Ed. Do you really have to go?"
Trying to look apologetic, I said, "Roberta, I run a couple of small businesses when I'm not running Linda's errands. I've found it's best to at least check in on them once a day."
Sue said, "I think I'd like to stay a while."
"Good 'nuff," I said, and grinned as I added, "Everybody promise you won't talk about me when I'm gone, okay?"
We shared a laugh, and after a round of handshakes and goodbyes, I headed for the front restrooms with the intent of taking a leak before I left.
As I walked past the bar, a blonde woman who looked to be somewhere close to forty looked at her watch, made a face, and bitterly muttered, "Well, fuck you, Frank," as she opened her purse and set forth toward me at a march step.
I stopped to let her go by, but her course toward me varied slightly and she walked right into me, dropping her purse with a little "Oh!" of startlement.
"Sorry," she said, "I was looking for my keys."
On what I felt was -- largely due to her course change -- only an off-chance that she wasn't a spook detailed to make a connection with me, I knelt to help her gather her stuff as she apologized for her clumsiness.
The funky lighting near the bar made it hard to tell the colors of her mid-thigh skirt, blouse, and suit-jacket. Four inch heels make it difficult to kneel or hunker without putting on a bit of a show; I noted that she had pretty nice legs.
When all was back in her purse, I stood up and took her arm to steady her as she also stood up. It was time for her to either thank me and split or try to turn the encounter into an event.
I tossed a mental quarter and it came up heads as I met her gaze. She had gorgeous ice-gray eyes, the kind that hit me particularly hard. My shields went up on general principles.
She was really quite attractive and tall enough to meet my eyes with only the slightest upward tilt of her head as I let go of her arm. Her eyes, her steadiness, and her breath told me that if she'd been drinking at all, she hadn't had much.
"All set?" I asked. "No damage? Did we get everything?"
Nodding, she smiled somewhat abashedly as she extended her hand and replied, "Yes, I think so. Thank you."
Her grip on my hand maintained our contact as she drew the moment out a little, then sighed and said, "I'm sorry I ran into you, but I was so damned... never mind. It's not your problem. Thanks again."
Bait? Or a real reluctance to share her personal troubles with a stranger? I'd know in a minute.
"Glad to help, milady," I said as she released my hand. "I take it someone didn't show up?"
She hesitated, then said, "He was supposed to be here at six. It's almost six-thirty." Holding up her cell phone, she said angrily, "He has one of these, too, so unless he's dead or unconscious in a hospital, no excuse will be good enough."
Looking out the windows at the gathering darkness, her gaze narrowed and she said, "Oh, great. It's getting dark."
Biting back the comment that darkness happened at the end of pretty much every day and shouldn't really be a surprise to anyone, I asked, "Want me to walk you to your car?"
Giving me an appraising look for a moment, she asked, "You wouldn't mind? I'm only about a block away."
"No problem. I was leaving, too, by way of the bathroom. Give me a minute to wash up and I'll be right back."
Nodding, she smiled as she said, "Okay. Thanks again."
I flipped that mental quarter again a few times as I took a leak and washed my hands, then rinsed my face and checked my hair. Not enough data about her yet. The results were still inconclusive.
"Man, you must be Irish or something," said a man who came in and stood at one of the urinals, "That blonde's been turning down free drinks for an hour."
Running a comb through my hair, I said, "She said she's been waiting for someone who didn't show."
The guy laughed, "Then he's a damned fool. She's hot, even if she is a little long in the tooth."
"Ever seen her here before?"
"No, but I don't come here often, either. We're just here tonight because a guy in the office moved up a notch today."
Using my paper towel to grab the door handle, I said, "Good for him. You guys have fun," and tossed the wadded towel at the trash on my way out.
The blonde was still near the front of the bar when I came out of the bathroom. I walked up to her and asked, "Ready?"
She nodded and walked with me to the door. I stayed to her left and somewhat behind her, reaching past her to open the door, then followed her out.
Once we were on the sidewalk, she turned to me and said, "I guess I ought to at least know your name before I wander off into the night with you."
"Yup. And for all I know, milady, you could be just another beautiful mugger, so we probably ought to trade info."
With a snort of a chuckle, she asked, "A beautiful mugger?"
Shrugging, I said, "Sorry, but one can never be too careful in the big city. I thought phrasing it that way might take some of the sting out of my trepidation."
"The sting, huh? Yours or mine?"
"Either. Both."
I introduced myself. She said her name was Georgia Miles, added "named after my grandmother, not the state", and asked if I lived in the area.
"Nope. I'm up here from Florida. Where's your car?"
She pointed further along the street away from 3rd World's building, said, "that way," and we started walking.
"Just touring?" she asked, "Or here on a job?"
Thumbing back the way we'd come, I said, "A friend works for 3rd World Products, but she's in Carrington, North Dakota at the moment, so there was no point in sticking around."
"I saw you with some people in the restaurant. Do they work for 3rd World Products?"
"Yup. One of 'em offered to buy me dinner." Grinning, I added, "I guess she felt sorry for me." With a fakey sigh, I said, "But not sorry enough. She brought her hubby along."
Georgia laughed and asked, "Did you know she was married when you took her up on her dinner offer?"
Shaking my head, I said, "No. I found out about one whole minute later, though. Didn't care. I skipped lunch today and I was ready for some food."
Glancing at her, I asked, "What about you? Local or tourist?"
"Local. I work a few blocks from here."
"Convenient. I used to live in Arlington. I could walk to work at Ft. Meyer when the weather was good."
She stopped walking and peered at me in the gathering darkness for a moment, then said, "This may sound forward, but... Do you have any plans for this evening?"
"Nope. I was just going to kick back and..."
"Do you want to go hit a couple of nightclubs?"
Shrugging, I said, "Sounds good to me, ma'am. What kind of music?"
Looking thoughtful, she replied, "Music? Oh, well, mixed, I guess. No karaoke, I hope."
"No country or rap, either?"
With a visible shudder of horror, she grinningly answered, "No. Never. Maybe some pop or dance."
"Sounds good to me. Lead on, milady."
Nodding, she said, "Okay. I'll wait in my car while you get yours. You can follow me and..."
Holding up a hand, I said, "My car's in Florida."
Giving me that peering look again, she asked, "You don't have a rental?"
Shaking my head, I said, "Didn't think I'd need one."
Crunch time. If Georgia had been assigned to make contact with me, she'd probably make a show of deciding to take a chance on me.
If she was just looking for some company for a few hours of drinks and dancing, being unable to conveniently say goodnight anywhere at any time would likely put her off.
'...Unless she's actually a heartless bitch, of course, in which case she might just leave me somewhere and haul ass...'
After a moment, Georgia came up with a third option.
Meeting my eyes firmly, she said, "The Wilson Boulevard buses run until a little after one in the morning, so if we don't get along, you won't be totally stranded. You okay with that?"
With a shrug, I said, "No problem."
"You mean that? You won't give me a hard time if I don't want to bring you all the way back downtown?"
Laughing, I said, "Things a lot worse than being left on a bus route have happened to me, milady. If we don't get along, I may say goodnight before you do."
Another couple of moments passed before Georgia nodded and turned to continue walking. She pointed ahead at a pay parking lot and led the way to a silver Ford Sable sedan, pressing a button on a remote control she aimed at it.
The door locks popped up and the alarm beeped. I opened the driver's door for her, then went around the back of the car as she started it. A few minutes later we were crossing the Roosevelt bridge into Arlington.
We hadn't spoken since the parking lot. As I looked at the river, she asked, "How long's it been since you were here?"
"Since I last drove through?" I asked, looking ahead, "1993. Since I lived here? 1983. I was on my way back to Texas from Africa. Stopped to see my ex-wife and wound up helping her move to a new apartment."
"Africa? Your ex? Does she still live around here?"
"Probably. She liked the place and had a lot of friends here."
"You don't know?"
"We don't keep in touch."
After a moment, she asked, "How many times have you been married?"
"Once was enough. How about you?"
She laughed. "Twice was enough. I'm a hard learner."
We were on Wilson Boulevard, waiting for a red light at the crest of a hill, when the car's engine died. When the car wouldn't restart, Georgia let us drift forward, carefully changing lanes until she was able to guide the car into a bank's parking lot. She tried to start the car again. The engine ground for several seconds. She tried again.
"Got gas?" I asked, leaning to see the gas gauge.
"Half a tank. These cutouts have been happening a lot, lately. I haven't had time to take it to the shop."
She turned the key again with no luck.
Keying my implant, I whispered, "Flitter, come see if you can fix this car, please."
Georgia looked askance at me and asked, "What did you just say?"
Waiting for my implant to tingle from the flitter's proximity, I held up an index finger and said, "Wait one."
Her look became one of worry. "Wait for what? Why were you whispering?"
My implant tingled. I said, "Flitter, go to visible mode and land behind us, please."
Glancing back too soon, Georgia saw nothing behind us and turned to me again. I opened the door and got out of the car as the flitter settled to the parking lot behind us.
Using my implant, I asked, "Can you fix it?"
The flitter replied, "The fuel filter is obstructed. I'm clearing the obstruction now. I have cleared the obstruction."
As the driver's side door opened, I said, "Thanks."
Georgia hissed, "Oh-my-God..!" as she saw the flitter.
"It ought to start now," I said. "Give it a try."
Turning her stare to me, Georgia said, "That's a flitter!"
"Yup, and it just fixed your car. Flitter, please ascend to two hundred feet and turn off visible mode."
The flitter rose into the night sky and vanished. Georgia let out a short, whispery little shriek and turned to me again. I got back into the car and closed the door as a hint. She stared upward for another few moments, then also got in.
For long seconds Georgia just stared at me, then she seemed to get angry and hissed, "You must think this is funny as hell."
"Funny how? The car died. Now it's fixed. Let's just get on with the evening."
Still seething, she asked, "You have one of those things, but you fished me for a ride?"
Sighing, I said, "Good thing, too, or you'd have been out here alone in a dead car. I didn't want to wonder if you were with me just because I had a flitter."
As she opened her mouth to say something else, her cell phone rang. Swearing softly, she snapped it open and answered with a terse, "Hello?"
I heard a woman identify herself as a nurse and ask who she was speaking with. Georgia gave her name. The woman asked if Georgia knew a Frank Robards.
With a visible measure of trepidation, Georgia answered, "Yes. Yes, I do. What's happened?"
"Ms. Miles, are you a relative?"
"No, but I know how to reach them. He lives next door in my apartment building. What happened?!"
"He's in stable but guarded condition, ma'am. He was in a car accident on M Street this afternoon. Are any of his relatives in the area?"
"No, they're in Ohio, but like I said, I can reach them."
"Can you come to the hospital, ma'am?"
Georgia said she could and was given instructions about who to see on what floor. After apologizing for being the bearer of bad news, the nurse hung up.
With shaking hands, Georgia disconnected and put her phone on the seat, then reached for the gearshift. She put the car in drive, realized she'd have to back out and put it in reverse. Her shaking foot goosed the gas pedal and she hastily hit the brakes before the car hit an 'entrance' sign.
I reached for the keys and turned off the engine.
"What the hell...?" She gave me an irritated stare as she tried to turn it back on and couldn't, then she shoved it into 'park' and reached for the key again.
"No," I said, placing my hand on hers. "Wait a minute. Get out and walk around the car a few times. Stop the shaking before you try to drive."
"But..."
Pulling her hand away, I grabbed the keys out of the ignition, and said firmly, "Georgia, he's not going anywhere tonight. Neither is the nurse. Take a few minutes to get your head straight and calm down so you don't wind up in the hospital with him."
She looked at me rather starkly and said nothing as I dropped the keys on the seat.
Opening my door, I said, "Come on. Walk with me for a few minutes. Get yourself organized. Think about what they'll need to know at the hospital."
Nope. She made two quick stabs at the ignition with the key, got it into the hole, and started the car. Shoving the gearshift to 'drive', she gunned the car forward in a tight circle toward the lot's exit. The passenger door swung closed hard enough to halfway-latch when she straightened out.
I tried feeding her some theta waves to calm her down and considered a light stun, but she was already in the street. The car would have kept going into the intersection anyway.
She ran the yellow light at the intersection as it turned red, turned left onto Wilson Boulevard, and hauled ass back toward D.C. With a sigh of disgust, I watched her go until she crested the hill, then called the flitter down and stepped aboard.
Sue appeared and asked, "Aren't you going to follow her?"
Shaking my head, I said, "Nope," as I lifted my mug and sipped cold coffee, then asked, "How'd it go with Deanna and company?"
"Ed, Miles was very upset. She could have an accident."
"Exactly what I told her. You follow her if you want."
Sitting down beside me, Sue said, "I'm in her car, feeding her theta waves. Don't you care that she..."
Holding up a hand, I said, "No. She's history."
"Because she left you here?"
"No, because she left in a frenzy, even with my theta waves hitting her. People who can't think through a frenzy -- or be reasoned out of one -- aren't dependable companions, ma'am. Best to let them go as soon as you find out."
Her gaze was piercing, but I knew Sue'd read me as I'd answered. She faced forward in silence.
Keying my implant, I called up a field screen and poked Linda's icon. She answered almost immediately.
"Hi, Ed. What's up?"
"Sue's handed Deanna the keys to a probe system and the searches are done. Any reason I can't head for Florida?"
Her left eyebrow went up. "Hold one while I check with Jim. How was dinner?"
"The steak was fine. I didn't stick around long after that."
Sitting back in her chair, she said, "I see. What will Deanna tell me about the evening?"
Shrugging, I said, "Probably only that it was short and generally uninformative. I told her to call you about flitter ops."
"Ah. May I ask why? She's classed for the info."
"I didn't want to spend the evening that way and she knows where to get the facts. What about Florida, Fearless Leader?"
With a glance off-screen, she nodded and said, "Okay. All clear, as far as we know."
"Flitter," I said, "Take us home, please," then I asked Linda, "Can you tell me why Iran took hostages in the first place, and why they chose 3rd World personnel rather than US citizens?"
"Iran disavowed all involvement with the kidnapping. Of course. Even though almost all the personnel evacuated from the supposedly-defunct bunker complex were wearing Iranian military uniforms." Shaking her head, Linda said, "I can't tell you why they chose 3rd World people," in a manner I'd heard often enough over 30 years of working with her. She wasn't allowed to talk about it.
I asked, "Mind if I speculate a little?"
Grinning slightly, she shrugged and said, "No, not at all."
Nodding, I watched Linda's eyes as I said, "Nukes. The Iranians are developing weapons grade stuff again, the Israelis have promised to bomb the facilities like they did in the eighties, and the Middle East is considered too volatile at the moment, so someone asked 3rd World to help out quietly."
Linda said nothing, but neither did her eyes or expression change, so I continued, "3rd World may have offered to prevent launches or track materials or something like that and someone leaked. The Iranians got pissed and took hostages to warn us off. Does that about cover it?"
Her eyes fixed on the screen and her right index finger rubbed something out of the corner of her eye as she replied, "Those are reasonable speculations, of course, but I really can't say, Ed. Sorry."
"It seemed worth asking. Thanks, anyway. Guess I'll let you go now and check my email or something."
"Okay. Later."
"Later."
She tapped her screen off, then I did the same. My coffee mug was almost empty. I downed the last couple of sips and shut the lid, then put the mug on the deck by the console.
Sue asked, "Why did you even ask her, Ed? Linda said she couldn't talk about those matters."
"Yup. But she also told me I'm generally on target."
With a wry, small smile, she asked, "Indeed? I didn't hear her confirm or deny anything you suggested."
Touching my right index finger to the corner of my eye, I replied, "Remember this motion? She used an old signal that means 'yes'. If she'd used her left hand or touched her left eye, she'd have been saying 'no'."
Moving the finger to rub the right side of my lower lip, I said, "This means 'I can't talk', possibly because someone is either watching or listening. Using my left hand or touching the left side would signal my contact or watcher to keep silent. If your hands are tied or cuffed, there are signals that don't require touching your face."
Sighing, I said in a W.C. Fields voice, "Ah, yes... The good old days. I kind of miss the Cold War sometimes, y'know? The constant trepidation, and all that. A sweet young thing like you just wouldn't have any idea at all. None at all."
Sue snickered. "That was almost a good imitation. He was a funny man."
Looking hurt, I asked, "Only almost?"
Nodding, Sue said, "Sorry. Only almost."
Shrugging, I said, "Well, it must have been good enough, since you recognized who I was shooting for. Sue, have you ever particularly noticed how the east coast of the US parallels the west coast of Africa? How the tip of Florida would tuck neatly against what's now Guinea and Sierra Leone if the continents were pushed back together?"
Blinking at me the way Toni would have at such an abrupt change of topics, Sue replied, "No, Ed, I haven't, and I'm rather wondering why you have."
"It isn't so strange an idea, Sue. Stephie went rooting for sunken treasure to finance her future. Now she's snuffling up raw gold and diamonds here and there. You have a future to consider, too, so I ask you; what do those African countries export, among other things?"
"I see. You're suggesting that there may be gold and diamonds under Miami?"
Shrugging again, I said, "Maybe way down under it. People have found gold and precious stones in Georgia and the Carolinas, but the bedrock in those states was shoved up into mountain ranges where people could reach it. And I'm pretty sure you'd play hell getting a permit to start a mining operation in Dade County. Besides, at the edge of the continental shelf you could probe the rock strata and rubble and let the Gulf Stream wash away the muck."
Keying up a field screen, I tapped up the Internet, then ran a search on 'formation of Florida'. One site in particular had a somewhat detailed explanation of Florida's geophysical history, complete with illustrations, one of which depicted Florida's position on the ancient supercontinent called Pangea.
The US states of Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida generally matched up against the African countries of Mauritania, Senegal, Gambia, Guinea Bissau, Guinea, Sierra Leone, and possibly some of Liberia.
I highlighted some text that read: 'Florida's igneous and metamorphic basement rocks are similar to the subsurface rocks of northwestern Africa. Fossils and magnetic properties of Florida's Paleozoic rocks also match better with those of Africa than those of North America.'
As we landed in my driveway, I grinningly said, "If I had your abilities, I'd probably at least go have a look out there some weekend, milady. Couldn't hurt, anyway."
Sue brought up more precise maps of the two regions and fit them together in silence, then she looked at me with an expression that bordered dismay.
"Ed, this and other data concerning the formation of Earth has been accessible to me from my first conscious moment, yet your supposition has never occurred to me."
"Relax, ma'am, you aren't alone. If anyone's dredging for raw gold and diamonds offshore from Florida, I haven't heard anything about it, and it apparently never occurred to Steph or Elkor, either. Got any idea why?"
With another long look at the puzzle pieces on the screen, she turned off the console and said softly, "No. I haven't."
Looking at me, she said, "Ed, I have all the information on this planet at my command. You have at best a collection of data fragments, very often remembered or stated in a manner less than competely accurate. How are you able to surmise and deduce based on incomplete data?"
"I'm damned if I know how we do it, but it's something a lot of people seem able to do."
Grabbing my backpack, I stepped off the deck and held out a hand to her. She took it and stepped down, then the flitter lifted quickly into the sky.
When I took my eyes off the flitter, I found myself facing Sue. Her expression of dismay had, if anything, deepened.
I said, "You're still developing, okay? Intuitive stuff like this'll come to you sooner or later."
"Will it?"
"I don't see why not. You manage to figure out other things on your own, don't you? Give it time. Don't sweat it."
"I do 'sweat' it, Ed. I find it disturbing that you can envision such an obvious circumstance from half-remembered fragments of information while I can't envision the same with the sum knowledge of the world at my disposal."
Staring at her for a moment, I laughed softly and said, "Lordy, ma'am. That would have sounded snooty as hell coming from anyone but you. Or Steph or Elkor, I guess."
Laughing again, I sighed, "Gee, lady, I'm sorry my paltry little midget mind snookered your godzilla behemoth computer brain on this one, but them's the breaks, y'know."
Sue glowered at me. "I didn't intend to insult you, Ed. You know that."
Kissing her hand with a grin, I took Sue's arm to lead her to the house as I said, "Sure, I know that. But someone else wouldn't, except maybe Linda."
Opening the front door and ushering her in, I added, "By the way, Sue, I aimed that bit of supposition at you alone. Steph's already put quite a pile together, and I don't want you to be destitute when you hit the road next year."
Nodding, she replied, "Understood -- and thank you -- but I've already consulted Steph. She extrapolated your intent and suggested that you might not be a complete slavedriver."
As Tiger joined us by the door, I said, "Hi, Tiger!" and reached to pat him.
Tiger greeted us and accepted a chin rub from me as Sue said, "When I leave your service, I'll be joining Steph in the further expansion of her company." Grinning, she added, "I'll learn from her missteps before starting my own enterprise."
I returned her grin. Sue picked up Tiger as I set my backpack by the coffee table and took out my coffee mug, then she followed me into the kitchen.
Tiger was apparently in one of his less talkative moods. He seemed content to soak up the quieter attention of being held and petted by Sue as I made a coffee.
A presence materialized behind me. I continued stirring my coffee as I said, "Hi, Steph."
She said, "Hi, Ed," as I rinsed the spoon and put it atop the coffee jar, then turned to face her.
Sue said with a trace of irritation, "That's something else I'd like explained in a satisfactory manner someday."
Steph chuckled and said, "Don't hold your breath. We never figured it out during my three years with him." To me, she said, "I found your supposition disconcerting, too, Ed."
Grinning, I asked, "Because..?"
With a wry smile, she replied, "As you said, our capacities for information storage and data correlation appear to differ."
Laughing, I said in a hillbilly accent, "Well said, ma'am! Oh, wow! I ain't feelin' nowhere near as retarded now."
Still smiling wryly, she sighed heavily and said, "How nice for you, of course. Ed, in your latest supposition we may find yet another occasion to thank you. You've supplied me with several very beneficial ideas, not the least of which is the very PFM innovation that's the foundation for my business."
Steph glanced at Sue, who gave me an innocent look when I followed Steph's gaze, which meant something was up. When I looked back at Steph, she said, "I'd like to make you a limited part of my business, Ed."
I noted her use of the word 'part' as opposed to 'partner'.
"Thanks, but it wasn't necessary last year and it's no more necessary now, Steph."
"I know how you feel, but unless my offer will in some way cause you harm, I insist."
Shrugging, I said, "Harm, huh? Well, I guess it couldn't do that unless the taxes get ridiculously high. Limited how?"
She sat down at the kitchen table. Sue and I joined her there before she spoke again.
"I propose to pay you a monthly retainer equal to one percent of each month's profits. I know that sounds small, but for a time, I'll be ploughing nearly all proceeds back into..."
Interrupting her by raising a hand, I said, "No problem. I've set up a few small businesses, too. I know how it is."
Sue gave me an odd look and asked, "Small? Ed, don't you realize the scope of..?" Seeing my grin, she subsided with, "Oh. Yes, I suppose you do."
"Yes, ma'am. In my own limited little way, yes, I do."
"You aren't going to forgive me for that altogether unintentional slight, are you?"
Shrugging, I said, "Oh, sure I will, ma'am. Eventually. Once I've managed to process it completely with my dreadfully limited capacities for data, that is."
Steph laughed. Sue stuck her tongue out at me exactly as Toni would have. I gave her a wide, saccharine grin and turned back to Steph.
"One percent is fine, thanks. You may have to help me think up ways to spend it, though. How soon do you expect to begin shipping PFMs to customers?"
"Some will be delivered to 3rd World's distribution offices next month. After outfitting their own personnel, they'll begin filling Amaran orders as we prepare to market PFMs on Earth."
Nodding, I asked, "Heard anything from the Army yet?"
With a grin, Steph said, "Colonel Kent and Captain Wallace demonstrated theirs for all the armed services last week. Only the Navy requested more time to consider matters."
"Figures. Maybe I should go show them how PFMs can be used underwater."
Shaking her head, Steph smilingly said, "Not necessary. Wallace realized that potential and had Linda call me to discuss it before the demonstration. I added an oxygen storage field like yours to his implant. He dove to 150 feet in his dress white uniform, accompanied by divers with cameras. They seemed rather impressed when he emerged completely dry."
"I'll bet they did. The Navy's real fond of that outfit. So what's their hangup? Oh, wait, let me guess... the birth-control effect? The Navy'd probably have a case of the vapors about that, I think. The old farts probably had visions of their ships turning into floating bordellos."
Snickering, Steph said, "The other services expressed reservations about it, too, but I pointed out that reproduction wasn't one of any military member's duties. A Marine colonel flatly stated that he thought it was a great idea and the only female officer at the meeting -- a Navy commander -- echoed his sentiment instantly, then went on to say that she wished she'd had a PFM when she'd been mugged in Norfolk a few months ago. She later quietly asked me how soon she could buy one if the Navy was slow to act."
"And you said..?"
"I simply issued her a PFM in front of the others and instructed her in its usage, then Kent and Wallace helped her test it with fire, chemicals, and submersion."
Tiger stood up in Sue's lap, stretched, and hopped onto the table to walk over to me as I asked, "But the Navy still wanted to think about it, huh?"
I patted Tiger as Steph nodded.
"Yes. When I offered one to each of the others, only the rear admiral in the group declined."
"No sweat. They just want to be able to say they were ordered to use them. Give the others a week or so to play with their new toys and you'll likely be hearing from the President."
Grinning, she said, "I already have. Myra's PFM generated interest among the intelligence services and the Secret Service. I've already received their initial orders."
Returning her grin, I said, "Most excellent, ma'am. No bullshit about bidding for contracts and no discounts, right?"
Laughing, she agreed, "No bids and no discounts. Each PFM will cost them $300.00."
Tiger let himself melt flat on the table and turned his chin up for some scratching as I said, "Good price. It's no more than the price of a rifle or a basic issue of uniforms and a bag to carry them. They shouldn't bitch, but I'd bet they will."
"Oh, they already have. I told them the price wouldn't be negotiable until order quantities made production costs negotiable. When the admiral asked what quantities were required to achieve a level of negotiability, I told him that orders for 170,000 units would bring their price per PFM down to $246.00, and that the various services could pool resources to make the order, if necessary."
With a chuckle, I replied, "'Their' price, huh? Good going. How soon do you think you'll be selling PFM's to the general public and setting up the clinics?"
"Not for at least six months, officially. Unofficially, I've put Kirsten in charge of locating and arranging transportation for sixty-four prefabricated clinics to be deployed in Africa. Each will have a medical core program and be capable of making what it needs from local raw materials. Each will have a field generator and will establish a protective dome over itself similar to the one that surrounds your house."
"Glad you tossed that in. They'll need the domes, for sure."
She paused a moment, then continued, "Ed, even though you've often expressed your dislike of Africa as a whole, I'd like you to be on hand to assist in that endeavor."
"Ah-hah. You're gonna make me work for that one percent, after all, huh? I'll bet you've got Andrew on that project, too."
"He and Kirsten will negotiate permissions and such and coordinate deliveries and local publicity for services. They'll also recruit potential medical assistants from among the locals."
That didn't seem to leave much for me to do. I nodded, sipped my coffee, and waited to hear what she had in mind, although I thought I might already know.
Steph continued, "In certain areas where medical services are needed most and are nonexistent we expect to encounter resistance from both rebel and government leaders. While our facilities will be safe enough, our patients won't be."
Yup. I knew it. Never a damned doubt about it. Tiger sensed a tightening of my demeanor and opened an eye to peer up at me as I scratched his chin and cheeks.
I said, "You want me to be a floating enforcer, then; someone to make the bad guys stay clear and behave. But they won't. You may as well accept that up front. Would I get to do things my way?"
When Steph didn't respond instantly, Sue asked, "What way would that be, Ed?"
Meeting her gaze, I said, "Whatever way seems appropriate, Sue. To me, that is, not necessarily to you or Steph. Nor to the Amarans or anyone else. Just to me."
Slowly shaking her head, Steph said, "Ed, I don't think..."
"No," I said, holding up a hand, "I don't want to hear it, Steph. You know the kind of vicious assholes you'll be up against. You've seen what they do to people and you know they'll do it to drive away your patients when they can't destroy the clinics. If you thought you could negotiate with them or pay them off, you wouldn't even think of talking to me about going back to fucking Africa, so get real. If I have to go back there, some of those vicious assholes are going to cease to be a problem and the others are going to learn some caution."
Sipping my coffee, I said, "I'll turn my five suit on before I land and may not turn it off until I'm five minutes away from the place at full speed. I really hate equatorial Africa."
Sighing, I rapped my knuckes once on the kitchen table and said, "Anyway, that's the deal, Steph. I'll go if you ask me to, but if I go, I'll do things my way. Feel free to try any other methods you want first, 'cause I'm damned sure not in a hurry to see that nasty hellhole again."
An almost tangible silence reigned in the kitchen for a time, then Sue said flatly, "You're being unreasonable."
"Crap. Send a copy of yourself to where she plans to put the clinics. Watch the local warlords behead someone or chop hands and feet off children as example to some village every time a patch of used-up, worthless dirt changes hands. Listen to the screams and smell the blood. Watch them draft little boys as soldiers and take little girls as slaves. See what happens to them when they screw up or can't work. You may have the knowledge of what goes on there, but reading about it or even seeing it on film just doesn't quite convey the same experience as seeing it happen in person."
My phone rang. I slid Tiger across the table to Steph and got up, then let the machine take the call with, 'Hi, there. I screen all my calls. You know what to do after the beep.'
As the tape played the message, a fax warble sounded, then the caller disconnected. Got a lot of those lately; junk faxes that were no different from 'special deal' emails, except that they wasted paper and ink instead of merely taking up cyberspace on a Yahoo server until they were trashed.
Caller ID was no help. The faxers used 'borrowed' phone numbers to send stuff about their scams, most of the latest of which had been that tired old poorly-written bullshit about some deposed prince, princess, prime minister, or whatever from Nigeria, Liberia, Botswana, or wherever who promised to pay big for help bringing 'rescued' money into the US.
Chairs slid back behind me and I turned to see Steph and Sue on their feet.
Steph spoke quietly, "I have some things to do, so I'll be on my way. Goodnight, Ed."
"'Night, Steph."
She disappeared with a last patting of Tiger. He turned to Sue and sat down. She reached to ruffle his chin and cheeks as she rather impassively looked at me.
I looked at the clock over the doorway and said, "It's almost nine. I'm gonna see if tonight's 'West Wing' is a rerun."
"It is," she said, "But you haven't seen it."
"Is Stockard Channing in this one?"
"Yes, she is. Later, Ed."
Nodding, I replied, "Okay. Later, Sue," and she vanished, too. Tiger followed me to the den and settled in my lap as I clicked the remote.
Heavy rain woke me around eight Wednesday morning. I pushed the curtain back and watched rain fall in the flooded street for a few moments, then headed for the coffee pot.
Once I had my coffee, I put down some treats for Tiger and turned on my computer, then went to the bathroom while it booted, briefly wondering why I still bothered with the computer, since field screens were far more convenient.
I realized it had something to do with a sense of propriety, largely the fact that I'm used to typing on a real keyboard, feeling the keys depress and hearing the action. Field keyboards were like the flat membrane keyboards on game machines. No sound, no motion. I couldn't quite seem to get used to that.
After spiffing up, I buzzed through my email and my usual newsgroups, checked headlines at a news website, and considered whether Steph might want my help in Africa badly enough to let me have free rein there.
Probably not. Or at least not immediately. Maybe never, knowing how I'd deal with things like bloodthirsty warlords. But you never know; when people feel driven to accomplish something, they sometimes change their views or find ways to work around what they don't want to see.
French had been the base language in Guinea back in the seventies. Not a problem back then; I'd soaked up languages without much trouble. Liberia and Sierra Leone had preferred English, but I'd also had to pick up bits of Krio and Mende to get by out in the countrysides.
I pulled up info on Sierra Leone just for the hell of it. As far as I could tell, the same groups were still squabbling for essentially the same reasons, even though some of the labels had changed since the mid-seventies.
Although vastly rich in mineral resources and potentially as rich in human resources, Africa was split into dozens of tiny countries and constantly-warring tribal and religious factions that prevented it from being any more than the biggest "underprivileged neighborhood" in the world.
With a heartfelt sigh of disgust, I thought, 'Africa. Damn.'
It was just as well that the Africans stayed at each others' throats. The continent of Africa is almost four times the size of the United States. If the Africans ever stopped fighting with each other long enough to turn their meanness on the rest of the world, they could be one helluva problem for everybody.
In fact, I'd always sort of wondered -- after encountering Russian-sponsored Cuban Communists in the African bush while I'd been employed by a British outfit representing US, Canadian, and European mining operations -- just how much of the strife in Africa had been secretly engineered or encouraged by the three main world powers of the Cold War era.
On the other hand, pre-1900 Africa hadn't been much different. Except for a few colonies of Europeans who'd carved out farms and ranches here and there, most of Africa had contained clusters of near-stone-age natives who'd continually killed or enslaved each other in nasty little tribal wars.
Maybe there was just something special about the African continent that gave the people who'd evolved there a natural mean streak and kept them from cooperating with each other for any length of time?
I felt that Steph would soon discover -- like everyone else who'd ever tried to bring anything decent to the man-in-the-goatpath African peasant -- that neutralizing the local rats and jackals would have to be the first order of business.
If she couldn't or wouldn't take that step, she'd only be able to establish her clinics in relatively civilized safe zones, which meant that those who most needed the clinics would go without, as usual, and that little would change any time soon.
'Whatever. Africa doesn't matter a damn to me now any more than it did back then.'
Or so I tried to tell myself as I shut down the computer and went to the window, but as I stared out at the pouring rain, I realized that 'it' did matter, at least on some level that wouldn't let me drop the issue and move on.
In all honesty, it wasn't that I really gave a damn about Africa; after all, for thirty years I hadn't even thought about the place other than to crank off now and then about how nasty it had been.
But Steph had more than just PFM sales in mind. She held Earth patents on a wide array of medical devices that utilized fields; patents that had been issued because nobody thought she'd ever get to use them before they expired.
If her clinics could be made widely successful in third world countries, they'd also be effective in forcing the western medical industry to allow field technology into common medical practices, which had so far been successfully prevented.
When Stephanie had demonstrated to a panel of non-3rd World doctors such applications as field generated wound dressings like as the one she'd used to stop bleeding when a Carrington base kitchen worker had cut himself, there had been smiling faces and apparent fascination around the table.
They'd liked the flying stretchers, too, and the use of fields to immobilize patients and remove tumors and objects with little or no damage to surrounding tissues.
But then -- in a move I'd thought to be very premature -- Steph had shown them highlights and given them complete copies of the recordings of Elkor's operation to replace the damaged section of Linda's spine.
After watching Elkor excise the damaged section, precisely trim and shape the new section to fit, install it, and reattach hairlike tendrils of ganglia, two doctors had instantly declared the recordings fakes.
The others had begun asking in-depth questions and the presentation had become something of an interrogation of Steph and her intentions until Linda stepped in and more or less ordered everyone who wished to stay to sit down and shut up until the original presentation had concluded.
During the following week, closed-door debates ensued and it took the medical powers-that-be only a bit less than a month to force through legislation that precluded, then banned, the use of Amaran field technology in all medical procedures within medical facilities regulated by the US and Canada.
Similar legislation had quickly been enacted in western Europe and the more developed countries of Asia; the medical industry had spoken and its word had become law.
To avoid problems involving its current Earthbound enterprises, 3rd World Products had officially shelved its plans to take part in Steph's robodoc program, but less than a week later, Linda had received the quiet word to assist Stephanie's clinic-establishing efforts in any manner that couldn't be directly, undeniably linked back to 3rd World.
There were outcries about the ban on field medical devices, of course. Doctors affiliated with 3rd World led the pro-field voices -- and there were thousands of those voices -- but they couldn't seem to undo what had been done, and Steph couldn't legally set up her clinics where the medical industry ruled.
Linda had been absolutely livid when the legislation passed; she ranted about venal morons in high places for a while before she settled down, then -- as a slap in the face of the very purchasable bureaucracy -- she ordered medical computers to be installed at all 3rd World Products installations worldwide.
Even the piddly little two-person recruiting offices had the robodocs. They were housed in special cabinets that had been added and labeled 'first aid'.
Local medical communities had objected, of course, but since no individual human was actively practicing medicine without a license, they had nobody to arrest or sue.
Under pressure from the local medical bureaucracy, one city immediately invoked local ordinances citing that because aircraft -- flitters, specifically -- landed and took off from the 3rd World Products building's parking lot, 'certified' first aid equipment must be accessible at all times.
Since the robodoc had all the required items of a first aid kit -- even though they were never used -- the fire marshal who inspected it had no choice but to certify the robodoc as indeed being a complete and acceptable first aid kit.
Within 3rd World's other offices, the little office under siege became the symbolic equivalent of the Alamo. A hand-made card circulated that depicted Leslie Portell and Stephen Brock standing in front of their building's front door, blocking the door with muskets to keep out a mob of torch-bearing peasants led by doctors. Through the glass doors, you could see the robodoc peeking fearfully around one of the office partitions.
Copies of the card were signed and faxed or emailed to the 'Alamo' office in rather vast numbers. They were pinned or taped to the walls of the lobby until they completely obscured the wood paneling. Newspapers picked up the story and people started sending clippings, as well.
People dropped into the office to see the robodoc as if it were a tourist attraction. Some even requested 'first aid' and received treatment in exchange for a waiver and a statement that they weren't employed by -- or acting on behalf of -- any police or government agency.
When a speeding car almost tore a teenager's right arm off at the end of the block, Steve and Leslie accompanied the robodoc to the scene and performed crowd control as the computer worked on the girl's arm.
By the time an ambulance arrived through afternoon traffic, the girl was in stable condition and temporary microbots were hard at work repairing her internal damages.
Several news stories later, public interest and opinion had become a more positive force in the matter. Local efforts to get the robodoc removed stopped. The siege had finally ended.
I hadn't seen Linda that happy since one of our Dragonfly teams inside East Germany had been discovered and chased for two days and nights, then had managed to get back to the west under heavy fire without any casualties.
She'd be happier still to see Steph's efforts in Africa work well, and absolutely thrilled to see Europeans and Americans going to Africa for inexpensive treatments unavailable in their home countries.
In conjunction with general acceptance of PFMs, that sort of medical denial couldn't go on very long before public outcry forced the worldwide acceptance of robodoc clinics, and that's when Steph's patents would suddenly be worth a bundle.
Tiger bumped my legs without speaking. I picked him up and held him as I watched the rain fall for a time, then treated us both to some ice cream.
"Tiger, I may have to go far away and help Stephanie with something. It's a place called Africa."
He looked up from his dish and asked, "I go, too?"
"I don't think so. It could be very dangerous."
He replied firmly, "I go, too. I have PFM collar like you."
"Not good enough. Very dangerous," I insisted. "You can't go without Elkor, and he may be too busy."
"Friend Elkor never too busy for me."
"Not now, but might soon be helping Steph... Dammit, now I'm talking like you."
Tiger ignored me in the manner he'd developed as a kitten when he wanted to investigate something and I'd objected. I decided to test his resolve.
"Tiger, would you like Sue to show you some of the animals that live in Africa?"
Looking up again, he said, "Yes," then went back to his ice cream.
Keying my implant, I said, "Sue."
She appeared by the kitchen door. "Yes, Ed?"
"When Tiger's finished with his ice cream, I'd like you to make a lion appear in the living room. Life sized. I'd also like that lion to show what would be typical lion-like interest in a fellow cat such as Tiger."
That got me a hard look from Sue and a suspicious glance from Tiger. When my ice cream was gone, I took my coffee to the living room and sat on the couch.
Sue followed me and stood by the coffee table. Through my implant, she asked, "Ed, are you sure you want to subject Tiger to such an event?"
"Yes. Better here than there. Make it a life-sized projection of a lion eating some other animal. Tiger knows he's about the same size as a big rabbit, so use a rabbit."
"Africa isn't exactly known for rabbits, Ed."
I shrugged. "So? Maybe that's because lions got 'em all, which is exactly the kind of point I'd like to make to Tiger. He's just too small to go to Africa with me. Even his five suit wouldn't protect him from a lion or an AK round."
"Yours wouldn't protect you, either."
"I can use other tactics. He can't. If he got off the flitter even once at the wrong time and place..."
Fixing me with a peering look, she asked, "Then you've decided to go?"
Sighing as Tiger entered the room, I said, "Only on my terms. Here comes Tiger."
Ambling into the room, Tiger looked at Sue, then at me.
I asked, "Tiger, would you like to see a lion? That's a kind of cat from Africa that's too big to lie down on that table."
Looking around himself at the six-foot-long, nearly three-foot-wide table and displaying rather obvious skepticism, Tiger said, "Yes."
The rest of the room beyond the coffee table turned into a simulated savannah and a male lion lay on a low hillock of sun-baked dirt, surveying its domain as it munched on a big white rabbit. Twenty feet or so away in the artificial world, two female lions dined rather messily on the carcass of a zebra.
When the lion's roving eyes found and locked on Tiger, it froze in mid-chew with half the rabbit hanging from its jaws. The lion then tensed in the classic, unmistakable fashion of a cat about to pounce on something.
Tiger instantly turned into a gray striped dandelion as every hair on his body stood out. I felt my PFM implant tingle as Tiger activated his p-field one very thin slice of a second before the lion seemed to move at damned near light speed. Its huge paw appeared to soundlessly lash out and slash downward through the table and Tiger's body.
As the lion made two more quick swings at him, Tiger yowled and leaped for the lion's eyes. Sue caught him in mid-air and returned the squalling, spitting, slashing Tiger to the coffee table as she made the lion and his scenery disappear.
Sue fed Tiger theta waves to help him calm down, but it was close to a full minute before his claws completely retracted, his breathing slowed, and his ears stood upright again.
His collar had trouble translating the stream of cat-sounds that came out of Tiger, but it managed, "Is real?! Is so?! Cat-so-big-so-fast-so-not-like-me?!" as Tiger rather shakenly stared at the spot where the lion had been.
Nodding, I said, "Yes. That big, that fast. But just like you when you chase a lizard. A lion won't see you as another cat, Tiger; it'll see you as small food."
Looking thoughtful, he asked, "Many lions there?"
"Yes, many, and there are many other animals much larger and just as mean. Sue, how about showing him a wildebeest, another lion, a cheetah, and a hyena for size comparisons?"
The wildebeest appeared, but the floor area wasn't quite big enough, so half of the critter seemed to be standing on the back porch, on other side of the glass doors.
Next to the wildebeest appeared a lion, a cheetah, and a hyena. All but the wildebeest stared fixedly at Tiger, their jaws slightly open as they panted from the African heat.
Cats have a lot of pride; Tiger would have felt it necessary to pretend to want to go anyway, even with his fur again half-standing on end. I didn't give him a chance to argue.
Tapping my cup on the table to make him look at me, I said, "Tiger, I don't want to take you with me if I have to go. I don't want to lose you and I'm absolutely sure that Steph, Sue, and Elkor would be very angry with me if you ended up as a pile of lion poop."
Sue rolled her eyes at me and said firmly, "Yes, we would be, Ed. Very, very angry with you."
When Tiger finally tore his eyes away from the animals and looked at her, he said, "You must not be angry at Ed. I stay."
Too prideful to ask Sue to make the leering animals go away, Tiger simply turned his back to them and began washing himself to show us his lack of fear.
The animals disappeared and I reached to pet him as I said, "Thank you, Tiger."
Regarding me thoughtfully for some moments, he said, "I will go -- only? -- if Elkor can come with," and started washing his left shoulder and arm.
Sighing, I said, "Tiger, even the people in Africa would see you as small food."
That made him stop washing altogether and stare at me in total disbelief. He'd met people who weren't really fond of cats, but the idea that people would eat cats was unthinkable.
Nodding, I added, "It's true, Tiger. The people there will even kill and eat lions. And they wear the lion's head and skin."
Tiger turned his shocked gaze to Sue, who looked at me.
"Show him, Sue. An African native wearing a lion skin. You must have some Masai footage in the pile somewhere."
Her expression told me she thought I was pushing things a bit, but a barefoot warrior clad in a lion's head and skin and holding a spear and shield appeared in the same spot where the lion had munched the rabbit.
I asked, "Sue, how would that guy react to seeing Tiger? He's hunting for his entire village and he's out there with half a dozen other guys looking for anything edible. Even if they nail something big, anything they find is meat for the pot."
She got it right. Instead of using his spear, the image jammed the spear butt into the ground and eased his hand toward a bladed, feathered dart at his waist.
The dart flashed directly at Tiger's chest and vanished. Tiger had again turned into a fuzzball. I heard his claws clack lightly on the table as he hissed and briefly looked for the dart.
This time there was less fear than indignation in his reaction as he looked at me and asked sharply, "Why go there?"
"Business," I said, "To help Stephanie."
Looking back at the native, Tiger hissed, "Bad, bad place."
Standing up and sipping my coffee, I replied, "Yeah, that's how I see it, too," then I patted Tiger and said, "I'm going to run some errands," as I headed for the den.
My do-list included a few checks that could have been mailed, a visit to Staples for an ink cartridge, and a stop by my accountant's office. As I made out the checks, Sue appeared.
"Tiger's still upset, but less so," she said, "Did you really feel it necessary to exaggerate?"
"What did I exaggerate, exactly? I didn't ask you to make anything bigger than life, did I?"
"You gave Tiger the impression that all of Africa is populated by lions and Masai natives."
"It sure seemed that way when I was there. Guess there may have been fewer of each in the deserts, but I wasn't in the deserts. Could be there weren't all that many in the jungle, either, but all the other predators and pests more than made up for 'em."
Closing the checkbook and standing up, I said, "If you want to talk, come along for the ride. I'm taking the car for its weekly run around town."
She pretended to consider the offer. It was a way of making a silent statement and inviting further discussion that she'd learned from Selena. I figured she'd refuse, and she did.
"No, thanks. I'll stay here with Tiger, I think. See you later."
I didn't bite; I headed for the door with, "Okay. Later."
As I left the house, I tucked my checkbook into a pocket, said, "Five suit on," and strolled to the car through the pouring rain, moderately fascinated by the way it hit my field and ran off. Casting a flat field above me as I opened the car door and got in kept the rain out of the car.
Up the hill toward the Deltona Boulevard light, a silver Ford sedan's brakelights came on as its headlights shone on the garage door of the old Damma house.
Well, the house wasn't all that 'old', really, but the Dammas had lived in it for six years before moving. It had sat empty for a few months, then the realtor sign had been removed from the yard and I'd figured someone had bought the place.
My main concern had been that a family with screaming kids and a noisy dog had moved in, as had happened all too frequently over the last few years as retirees died off and left their homes to younger family members.
Nope. Whoever moved in apparently did so while I wasn't home. I never saw any kids, never saw a dog. Never saw the new owners, either; not coming or going or working around the house. The lawn was mowed weekly by a service and a white Ford the same model as the silver one went somewhere every morning and returned in the late afternoon.
All that info had more or less occurred to me at once about a month after they'd moved in. If I'd been more socially inclined, I might have walked the whole block or so necessary to say 'hi'. Instead, I just punched up county records of the property transfer on my datapad.
They were James and Louise Golding, and they'd taken out a standard mortgage on the house. Both were insurance claims adjustors, according to their listed occupations.
Hm. 'Insurance adjustors'. We'd used the same cover job for Ellen and Gary when the big ship had arrived. I checked further and found little more than that both had Florida licenses for their occupations. Well, duh. What was a cover without the proper paperwork?
At that point, I'd said to hell with it. If they were there to keep an eye on me, so be it. Could even be they were exactly what records said they were. Didn't matter.
I was over the hill and turning south on Deltona before the silver Ford moved. It backed out and waited at the light as I lost sight of it beyond another small hill.
As I parked at the post office, I saw a silver Ford pull into the drive through lane and stop by the boxes. It continued around the little circle and across the street to the 'Pack and Ship'. Nobody got out and it was too far away to see who was in the car. I went into the post office, watching the Ford through the big windows. A woman waiting for a break in the rain seemed to take sharp notice of the fact that I wasn't wet.
A UPS truck pulled in over there and parked directly behind the silver Ford, cutting off my view, but I saw the truck driver chat out his door for a moment before getting down and going into the shop.
After cleaning out my post office box I headed back to the window. The truck was still there. I headed for my car and drove out of the lot with a glance at the silver Ford when the angles were right. It was empty.
Tailing and being tailed when nothing much is at stake can become a game of sorts. Not knowing for sure whether you're being tailed is just part of that game. You go through the motions and stay alert on general principles.
At the bank, I made deposits and chatted with a couple of the women who handle my accounts, then stood by the doors watching the rain for a few moments. A silver Ford sat under the awnings of the defunct Texaco station across the street.
Hm. The rain was coming down fairly hard. Maybe the driver just wanted out of it for the moment. Might not be the same car, either.
I decided that it was time to head over to Staples, which was half a block past the gas station. Bidding the bank ladies goodbye, I went to my car.
As I passed the station, I noted the license number of the car and took a minute to scribble it on scrap paper when I parked. Grabbing a couple of ink cartridges and a few other items, I checked out and put the stuff in the car, then headed back the way I'd come on the service road.
The silver Ford was still there, but now there was a brunette woman standing beside it, talking on a cell phone. I kept an eye on my rearview mirror until the car and woman were out of sight, but she didn't get back in the car.
Rain pounded hard on my windshield for a few more minutes, then abruptly stopped altogether; not unusual at all in Florida. In fact, sometimes you could be standing in bright sunshine and watch hard rain a hundred feet away.
A pickup had stalled in the intersection at Deltona and Forest Oaks. I offered to give the guy a shove with my Olds to get him out of traffic and he happily agreed, steering toward a convenience store parking lot after we got him moving.
Parking on the other side of his truck from Deltona, I asked what was wrong with the truck. He said he didn't know and didn't care, then apologized for snapping and held up a cell phone as he said that his brother was on the way "to pick up the piece of shit truck he sold me".
Just as he said that, the silver Ford squealed through a left turn in the intersection and hauled ass north on Deltona. I waited a few moments to see if any other cars seemed to be in that big a hurry, then moved out to follow her at a distance.
Halfway to the house an ambulance and a firetruck passed me and turned exactly where I intended to turn to avoid the light at Deltona for the last block home.
The silver Ford was parked in the street with half a dozen other vehicles. Cops were leading three guys and a woman out of the cream-colored house across the street and two doors down from the Damma house. I recognized a drug test kit on the hood of one of the cars.
A bust in progress, less than a block from my house. The cop in the street waved at me to keep moving. I asked him what was going on. He repeated that I should keep moving.
Whatever. It would be on the news. I kept moving past the firetruck and the silver Ford, where the woman was on her cell phone again. The woman looked at me as I passed her and I nodded, then headed for my own driveway.
"Sue," I said as I entered my house and opened my coffee mug, "That looks like a drug bust down the street."
She popped into being near me and replied, "You thought the couple at 9417 were observing you, didn't you?"
Warming my coffee, I shrugged and replied, "It wouldn't be all that unlikely, y'know, with all the stuff that's happened here over the last few years. And I own a flitter and work for Linda." Capping my mug, I added, "And then there's you, of course."
Sue actually seemed startled. "Me?"
I looked to see if she was kidding. Apparently not.
"By now, the agencies would have to know who and what you and Steph are. They'd have some idea of what you can do and they'd think you belong to me. That would make a lot of people very nervous, and I'd bet that only my affiliations with 3rd World and Linda keep the hounds away from my door."
Her blank look almost made me chuckle.
"Think about it, Sue. Just for example, I've been landing the flitter in my front yard for years, but I've never once heard objections from the FAA. If I tried that even one time with a mini-copter or a motorized glider, I'd face fines and jail."
Sitting at the kitchen table, I continued, "Then there's the mountain trick. I'll bet you can tell me which agencies know that we went over there, and I'll bet there are at least three. If any of them knew what really happened to the mountain, they'd see me as the proud owner of something more dangerous than a dozen H-bombs. I'd say chances are good that only the fact that Linda and 3rd World have me on their payroll keeps the US government from trying to pick me up. And you."
Looking somewhat shocked, Sue softly said, "Yes. Of course they would. I feel so naive, Ed."
Shrugging, I quoted, '...to see ourselves as others see us...' and said, "Well, actually, they probably think I did it, if it makes you feel any better. And they likely think I dropped a special bomb or something. I kinda doubt Linda would have told them every little thing about the operation."
Sitting back, I added, "Fact is, it's doubtful she told Danvers or Saunder anything, either. Neither of them asked us anything about the mountain, and Danvers kept the press and military away from us, so it's likely they were specifically instructed not to ask. In fact, I think the truth of what happened to that mountain is probably known only to Linda and those of us who did the job. And maybe to some Amarans who know about using fields to transmute stuff, but they aren't talking."
Nodding, Sue said, "The sharing of such information has always been kept to a minimum by Amaran policy. I didn't realize that it was restricted to prevent panic."
Sipping coffee, I chuckled, "Not panic, just rampant greed and paranoia. Panic would come later, after they'd convinced themselves you're too powerful and thereby too dangerous."
Continuing her apparent revelation, Sue replied softly, "Some people would see me that way, wouldn't they?"
"Yup. Oh, hell, yeah. No damned doubt at all. Could be some already do, ma'am. For instance, I can't wait to hear what Linda's El Grande Capitano Wallace has to say about anybody but the US government being able to zap mountains out of existence. No matter how she explains the event, it could be there's about to be a conflict of interests on that home front."
Looking rather startled and dismayed, Sue suggested, "Maybe I -- maybe we -- should talk to him, Ed."
It was all I could do to keep from laughing.
"Uh, huh. Okay. Sure. We can try that. Just like I tried talking to him when we first met, but he still set course to get rid of me. It wasn't until he read what he thought was an intercepted private message from me to Linda that he backed off, and even then he didn't really give up the idea until he realized that forcing me out of Linda's life would also force him out." Pausing to shake my head for emphasis, I added, "Nope. I won't tell him a damned thing. If Linda tells him anything, it'll be because she absolutely can't avoid it and she'll have a really big trump card up her sleeve when she does it, milady."
"What are you calling a 'trump card', Ed?"
Shrugging, I said, "Oh, just some little way of keeping him quiet after he knows too much. You know; something to keep him from blabbing it to the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the President, who'd slap a national security lid on the whole mess just before they try to take total control of all 3rd World Products facilities, equipment, and personnel on Earth. Which would include you, Steph, Elkor, and me."
Looking somewhat stunned, Sue finally sat down at the table. As she did so, Steph and Elkor appeared.
"Hi, guys," I said, "Sue told you what we've been talking about?"
Nodding, Steph said, "Yes. You've really upset her, Ed."
"Too bad. It's that kind of info. Any disagreements about not telling Wallace?"
"No. None. Absolutely not."
Shrugging, I said, "Well, there it is, then."
With a dubious look, Steph said, "But it may already be too late for silence, Ed. Jeffries and Myra saw me transmute oceanic detritus during our salvage demonstration."
"Maybe not a problem. If pushed, Linda and I will say that it's an extremely power-consuming process that can be performed only for very short times on very small scales. You can refer all other questions to Linda. Or me, I guess."
Giving me a wry look, Sue said sardonically, "Oh, good. I'd like to hear you explain how the mountain disappeared."
"No sweat. Some strange devices were supplied for the job. We used them as instructed and rushed the hostages to Landstuhl. For anything more, they'll have to get with Linda."
"So now we're strange devices, huh?"
"Only for the sake of this particular postulation, milady. For the record, I don't consider you strange at all. Unique, certainly. Special, definitely. Fairly wonderful, even. But not strange."
"That answer -- talk to Linda -- won't satisfy some people."
With a shrug, I replied, "What can I say? That's just too damned bad, 'cause it's all they get and that's how I'm gonna play it. How about you? Got a better idea, ma'am?"
Sue glanced at Steph, then at Elkor, and said, "Not at this very moment. Have you discussed any of this with Linda?"
"Ah... well, no, I didn't really see the need. We went to the same spook school, y'know. She knows me pretty well."
Steph said, "It might be good to discuss this with her anyway, Ed. Just to be sure."
Nodding, I said, "Okay. Ring her up."
A field screen appeared and Linda answered with, "Well, hello, everybody. What's up?"
I said, "Oh, nothing much, Fearless Leader. I just thought you might like to put in a little flight time, and we're taking the afternoon off. Can you tear yourself away for a couple of hours? Maybe leave everything behind for the whole afternoon?"
Linda referred to some notes and replied, "Not the whole afternoon, but I could definitely use a break. It's one-thirty and I missed lunch. How about I grab something, then..?"
"Nah. We'll feed you. We'll even save a cold beer for you. Look for us upstairs if you're interested."
Grinning, Linda said, "Wow, free food! Okay, I'll be there. Thanks, Dragonfly," and tapped off.
Sue looked thoughtful for a split second -- a fairly long time for her -- and said, "Ed, I just checked her schedule. In order to meet with us, she's having to postpone four appointments."
As I gathered stuff to make sandwiches, I said, "No sweat. Counting Tiger, there are four of us, too. It'll all even out in the long run."
Steph snickered. Sue gave me a droll look and asked, "Why would she drop everything simply to meet us for lunch, Ed?"
Tiger trotted into the kitchen and I tossed him a bit of the sliced turkey as I replied, "Maybe just because she can? She's the boss around there, y'know. Tiger, we're going flying and we'll be meeting Linda for lunch. Would you like to come?"
Hopping onto the kitchen counter for another bit of lunchmeat, he looked at me and said, "Yes."
"Ed," said Sue, "Linda's not the type to take off in the middle of the afternoon. Try again, please."
"Okay. What did I call her, Sue?"
"'Fearless Leader', but you often call her that."
"Yeah, but it prefaced the invitation to put in some flight time. 'Leaving everything behind' was an invitation to come alone, and the followup of 'save a cold beer for you' -- a beer, not a couple -- confirmed it."
Sue glanced at Steph, who nodded grinningly and said, "That's the way I understood it."
When Sue looked at Elkor, he said, "I also understood it so."
With a very deliberate-sounding sigh, Sue said, "In that case, I request an immediate update concerning his more arcane methods of communication."
After packing two small coolers with our picnic lunches and some dessert snacks, we boarded the flitter. Tiger took his usual spot on the console dash with Elkor, but I noted that he cast frequent glances at the coolers.
"Flitter," I said, "Take us up to two hundred miles and put us above St. Louis, please." Turning to Sue, I asked, "That's a little over halfway to Carrington, isn't it?"
Nodding, she replied, "Yes."
"Good 'nuff. We'll hang around 'till she gets there. She's probably at hangar four by now."
"Yes, she is," said Sue. "How would you know that?"
Shrugging, I said, "It seemed about right."
Sue seemed to consider matters before she said, "Linda could have had the flitter meet her at the side door."
"Nope. She'd have stopped by the front desk. She could have used the phone to log her code out, but she likes the personal touch when there's time for it."
Saying that made me think about all the times I'd seen Linda make a minute or two for someone between offices or on the way to or from lunch; sometimes someone important and sometimes a janitor or clerk.
A picture of her talking to someone's secretary in our old Kaiserslautern offices came to mind as clearly as if it were yesterday. The secretary was...?
Oh, yeah. Glenda Morris. I'd noticed her superfine legs first, of course, but two days later she'd given me a fairly complete briefing on a mission almost completely from memory.
I'd made sure she knew she'd impressed me, then made sure to mention it to people I knew would remention it to her later. People who work that hard and that well deserve notice.
But most of those times I'd had no idea who Linda was talking with, partly because I only visited the offices now and then and partly because I didn't know -- and really had no need to know -- more than a few people in certain offices.
Those few minutes Linda made or spared various people now and then represented more than mere time; they were the tiny connections that helped maintain enthusiastic cooperation and gradually add up to become loyal support.
I'd learned about those special minutes over the years, but Linda had known about them long before I'd met her in Germany. It used to bug the hell out of me when I'd had to stand by while she apparently chatted with some clerk about stuff that was total trivia to me.
My sense of presence tingled softly and I said, "Here she comes," and looked around below the flitter.
A glint of silver rising quickly toward us caught my attention as Sue -- yet again -- gave me one of her 'how the hell does he do that?' looks and Steph snickered.
Linda's flitter zipped upward and stopped cold exactly even with us, then the flitter's opaque canopy disappeared to reveal Linda standing at the edge of her deck.
"Thanks, Two," Linda said as she stepped over to our flitter.
Flitter two responded, "You're welcome, Ms. Baines," put its field back up, and dove away toward the ground.
"Hi, all," said Linda. "I borrowed flit two from a training session, so you'll have to give me a ride back to the office."
"Uh-oh, an unscheduled stop," I said, "Sue, check and see if we can spare that much time this afternoon, will you?"
Looking thoughtful, she said, "I think it's barely do-able."
"Good deal. Don't want my boss taking a bus home."
As Tiger greeted Linda and got a chin rub, I turned to open the coolers, but they were already open and their contents were being spread out atop a low, translucent-gray field table. Steph shrugged and smiled.
The last of the sandwiches floated to the table as I said, "Thanks, milady," and fielded a turkey slice to Tiger.
He sniffed it and said, "Thank you," then began eating.
Linda peered hard at him, then turned to me to ask, "Did I really hear a cat say thanks just now?"
"Yup. His PFM collar translates for him. If you'd hang out with me more often..."
Interrupting me with a laugh, she said, "If I hung out with you more often, Emory would get pissed and you know it."
Taking off her low-heeled shoes, Linda tucked her skirt and settled by the table, then reached into the drinks cooler before I could offer her anything.
Pulling out a can of tea, she asked, "Would this meeting have anything to do with Africa?"
"Not originally," I said as I sat down beside her. "We'd actually been talking about how widespread the knowledge of transmuting stuff might be. I'll let Sue play it back for you."
Sue called up a field screen and replayed a console-view of our conversation to the point where I'd said, 'What can I say? That's just too damned bad. It's all they get and that's how I'm gonna play it. How about you? Got a better idea, ma'am?', then she added, "No. I don't have a better idea."
Sipping a beer, Linda said, "You don't need one, Sue. That covers things well enough at your end and I'll stonewall them at my end. We'll fabricate some outrageous energy consumption stats, too, then I'll make them fight for them."
Setting her beer down, she checked the contents of one of my sliced turkey sandwiches and picked it up to take a bite.
"So that's covered," I said, "Now, what were you saying about Africa, ma'am?"
"I told Steph you'd probably go," she said around some sandwich, "I didn't say you'd definitely go, though."
"Gee, lady, thanks for leaving me an easy way out."
Linda chuckled, "Think nothing of it."
I worked my way through part of my sandwich before asking, "Do you want me to go?"
After taking a breath and letting it out, Linda quietly said, "Ed, if I could send you, I would."
Nodding, I answered, "If you could send me, I'd feel a lot better about going. How would you write it off?"
Swallowing, she met my eyes as she said, "We'll call it leave time. You have a few months stacked up. We won't officially have to know where you are."
"Uh, huh. Why would I take so much leave at once when I've never needed or wanted more than two weeks before?"
She shrugged. "Personal matters."
"Nope. Gotta do better than that. People would think I checked into a rehab clinic or something." Steph snickered and Linda chokingly laughed as I added, "I told Steph I'd only go if I can do my part of things my way."
Looking at Steph, Linda asked, "And you said..?"
"I said nothing. I didn't think I could convince him to quell violence in the vicinities of the clinics in as peaceful a manner as possible." Steph paused a beat, then added, "I was rather hoping you'd be able to reach him about that, Linda. He could go as a legally authorized visitor as long as he doesn't perform any illegal acts in the process of pacifying those regions."
"Hoo-yeah!" I laughed, "'Pacifying the region'. Where have I heard that before?"
Linda had actually frozen in mid-chew. She stared at Steph for a moment before switching her gaze to me and swallowing. After another moment, she looked at Steph again.
"Steph," she said, "As many as three out of five people in some of those areas are missing hands or feet. Nearly forty percent of all deaths in those regions are from abuse or murder. How the hell is he supposed to... 'negotiate'... with people who routinely do things like that to maintain control?"
I sipped my coffee and said, "I don't want to go near the place until all the rhetoric's out of the way. Told her that before. Call me when all else has failed."
Sue said flatly, "She can't."
When we looked at her, Sue said, "Ed, if she could call you under those circumstances, why wouldn't she be able to... to do what's necessary... herself? What would be the difference? We're already at the edges of our programming restrictions simply by allowing this turn in the conversation."
Sipping my coffee again, I looked at Linda. She pursed her lips and seemed to consider matters for a time, then nodded and worked on the rest of her sandwich.
"Tell you what," I said, "Send a list of the places you want to put clinics to my datapad. I'll look it over, but I'm not making any promises and I won't try to be some kind of diplomat in a place where I'd be the only white target in a free-fire zone."
Blinking at me the way Toni would have if something I'd said had shocked her, Sue grinningly asked, "Ed, are you a secret racist? Should I put a Confederate flag bumper sticker on your flitter and install a shotgun rack?"
"Nah. Then I'd have to get a shotgun. Get real, sweetie. I'd be the only white guy for miles in ninety percent of Africa and you know it, you field-generated clown."
Morphing her appearance to resemble a certain tall, black supermodel, Sue pretended to study me carefully.
"Ah-ha," she said with a smug expression, "Your readings dropped instantly."
"That's because she's a face on a stick. She looks like she just got out of a concentration camp. Try showing me a woman with some meat on her bones -- like Angela Bassett, Vanessa Williams, or Beyonce Knowles -- and see what happens."
Linda laughed and said, "If he can rattle off their names like that, I think I already know what'll happen."
Glancing at Linda, Sue grinningly became Angela Bassett for about five seconds -- far too short a time, I felt -- then changed to Vanessa Williams for another five seconds before Beyonce Knowles appeared.
Her grin had become rather wry as she morphed back to her usual semi-Margaux Hemingway appearance.
"I see," she said, then Sue spoke to the others as if announcing some great truth, "His readings would seem to indicate that extremely thin women don't appeal to him."
Laughing again, Linda said, "No surprise here."
"She already knew it," I said. "What just occurred is also known as giving someone a hard time for a laugh." To Sue, I added, "Thanks for the show, though. You do a great Angela Bassett and a really fine Vanessa Williams."
Sue smilingly performed one of Selena's fake curtseys, which sparked another round of laughter. I reached up for my briefcase and brought it to my lap to retrieve my datapad, then let the case return to its parking zone above my head.
Yup. She'd already sent the clinic location data. Poking up a map of Africa, I transposed the GPS coordinates of the clinics to it and wasn't at all surprised to see the representative dots apparently only about fifty miles apart.
"Ambitious as hell, isn't she?" I muttered, showing the pad to Linda. Turning to Steph, I asked, "Care to prioritize these a bit for me? This looks like a ten-year plan."
Linda took a look at the plethora of dots and softly swore.
"It's a five-year plan," Steph replied as the dots changed to red, green, yellow, blue, and gold and a scaled chart appeared. "Our first concern will be the red locations."
'Our first concern', she'd said. Not 'your first concern'. I noticed that all the red dots were in the worst areas of conflict and poverty imaginable; some in the Congo and some in the coastal and desert regions.
"Oh, well," I said, "I kind of expected what I'm seeing. At least there'll be nobody in these places to give you any crap about practicing medicine without a license. I'll look all this over later."
Turning off the datapad, I pulled my briefcase down again and put the pad back in it, then let the case disappear and picked up my second sandwich.
With a raised eyebrow, Linda asked, "Later? What's wrong with right now?"
"I'm still thinking about how I'd want to handle things. Sue or Steph would have to add some programming to my implants once I know how I'd want to proceed, but I have a question before we go any farther. Why not drop limited-function PFM's with instructions in each zone? Let everybody stun each other silly until the bad guys leave to find easier pickings."
Sue said, "We've extrapolated along those lines and rejected that idea. It would be a year or more before the areas were clear of conflict. Thousands could die before then."
Sighing, I said, "Yeah, but most of them would be baddies who find themselves flat on their backs surrounded by vengeful villagers, and I don't have a problem with that. Look, Sue, it's fucking Africa, y'know? That's how they've always run the place. There's no way to do this that won't get somebody killed. All you can really hope for is that the right people die."
I turned to Linda and said, "And all we're going to be able to 'discuss' about any of this is how soon I'd go and how I'd go about things. Right?"
"That's how it looks to me, too." She looked at Steph and asked, "How about it? Are you willing to give him free rein, Steph? The only answer I'll accept is 'yes'. Anything else and I won't be able to spare him for the project. It's just too dangerous to try to go about this in a half-assed fashion."
Steph flatly replied, "You both know I can't. I'll proceed alone if necessary."
"Linda," I said, "Do we need Steph's permission or support? Couldn't I just sort of go over there and clean things up a bit on my own?"
With a droll look, Linda replied, "You already have a couple of hobbies, Ed. One of them involves being alive in order to work for me. I'm not thrilled with the idea of you..."
Holding up a hand, I asked, "But would you stop me? If you happened to get word that I might be going, I mean?"
Linda was silent for some moments before she spoke.
"I suppose not, if I thought you'd be extremely careful."
I sipped coffee as I sent twin one-inch diameter red and blue tendrils outward to intertwine like snakes, then weave themselves into a complex pattern around the console.
Eyeing the tendrils' looping, weaving progress, Linda almost whispered, "Ed, what the hell are you doing?"
Extending the red tentacle into a sinuous, curving loop that ended only a few inches from her nose, I said, "I'm practicing while I think, ma'am."
She stared at the end of the tendril as if it were some kind of snake for a moment. When I made it retract to continue interacting with the blue tendril, Linda glanced askance at me as she munched the last of her sandwich.
The console soon looked as if a form-fitting red and blue basket had been woven over it. I spaced the weave a bit and sent into it a bright refractive tendril that made the pattern look as if it had a thread of diamond running through it.
"Sue," I said, "Given my current capabilities, how big an animal could I stun completely with one jolt? A rhino, maybe?"
Shrugging, she said, "Possibly. I'd say likely, in fact."
"That would be how many people at once?"
"A dozen or so, easily. Perhaps fifteen. People have much lower thresholds than animals."
Letting the console's basket-shroud vanish, I formed a grey cylinder about three inches thick around myself and said to Linda, "I know this barrier will stop or turn a 9mm pistol round because I've tested it. If I used this and my five suit at the same time, it might stop or turn a rifle round."
"It could turn a bullet from an M16," said Steph, "But not one from an AK47."
Linda's eyebrow arched as she added, "And that's the most common weapon in Africa. I'd prefer you not rely too heavily on that particular field trick, Ed."
"Just for you, I'll save it as a last ditch tactic, milady."
Linda shook her head as she cut her second sandwich, then poked at my barrier with her table knife.
"I'm serious," she said. "It's real cute, but it's not enough. What else you got, mister?"
Conjuring a tendril with a glowing tip, I sent it at the knife. The tip of the tendril touched the end of her knife and almost instantly melted a quarter-inch hole through the stainless steel blade. It then thinned to a white-glowing hairlike filament and passed through the last half-inch of the blade. Linda stared in surprise as the flat bit of stainless steel fell to the deck.
She muttered, "Well holy shit, Batman! I remember when you had a hard time of putting a hole in my gold coin. You've been working out, haven't you?"
"Yup. That trick can cut through a rifle bolt in about two seconds or weld it shut at the edges in one second. A spot weld along the top shouldn't even set off the ammo."
Grinning, Linda asked, "Is that guessing or gospel?"
"Almost gospel. The cops let just about anybody watch when they cut up confiscated weapons. There were some rifles and pistols on a table, so I took the opportunity to mess with a few from a distance of about ten feet. Some bolts fell out in pieces and others wouldn't open with claw hammers."
Linda laughed, "I'll bet that caused a small scene."
"Yeah, but only a small one, and it didn't last long. They pulled one rifle and one pistol off the table and cut the rest."
"Was..." she paused to think and continued, "Deputy Greer, I think? Was he there?"
"'Detective' Greer now. Since not long after the bomb squad showed up at my house, in fact. Yup. He saw me, but he didn't say anything. Did he ever do any rooting around about me?"
Nodding, Linda said, "He did, but he never went too far with it, so we didn't give him any grief. I had no idea you'd put your memoirs on the net, Ed."
"Did it before I came back to work for you. Didn't you guys check me out before you hired me, ma'am?"
Giving me a wry look, Linda sipped her drink, then said, "Al Rollins made a note that you'd written some science fiction. Another guy scanned them and said they were clean, for our purposes. If I'd ever seen a list of titles I'd have said something to somebody. 'Dragonfly Run'. 'Field Decision'. I can't believe you found a way to make some of that stuff interesting."
Eyeing her examiningly, I asked, "You've read them?"
"Yes," she said firmly. "Several of your other books, too, as time has permitted. You had a lot of nerve writing me into your stories, mister."
"I made you look damned good, though, didn't I?"
She shrugged. "Oh, I guess so, for as little as you actually said about me. How come we didn't keep in touch, Ed?"
"Time and circumstance. I retired, but you kept on truckin' with the agency. I just figured that any time you'd have tossed at me would have to have been stolen from something else."
"Still..." she sighed, then she said, "Never mind. I just wondered how we drifted so far apart over the years. Could we ever have made it as a couple? I mean... married?"
I'm sure I just sat blinking at her for a time. Damn! What a question to toss out there, especially since she'd been very much present at all three of our breakups.
Speaking softly, I said, "Ah... Well... no, ma'am. I don't think so. A couple of free falcons will hang out with each other now and then and have a reasonably good time. If you cage them together, they'll start ripping at each other after a while."
Linda gave me one of her 'I'm totally skepical' looks and asked, "How the hell would you know anything about falcons?"
"Books. Ways people have tried to make them mate and work together over the ages. For instance, the D'Coucy family of fourteenth-century France had a family falconer who..."
Waving a hand, she exclaimed, "Oh, Jeeezus! Fourteenth-century France?! I just asked how you'd know something like that. I don't want a goddamned history lesson about it."
Seeing my grin, she snapped, "What's so damned funny?"
"Are you still wondering if we'd have made it as a couple?"
Shaking her head, she admitted, "No, I guess not. Jeezus. Fourteenth-century France." Turning to Steph and Sue, she asked, "Do you believe he'd come up with something like that?"
"Yes," said Sue, apparently taking her question as other than rhetorical, "There are several references concerning the training and handling of raptors in the notes of Charles..."
"I-was-kidding!" Linda interrupted with exasperation, "Oh, hell, of course! He'd only make some vague reference to something like that, but you'd be able to quote line and verse."
Turning to me, she said, "Ed, she's your perfect girlfriend. Between the two of you..." Linda paused and glanced around herself, then took a breath and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. I've had something on my mind lately and I think it just screwed up our lunch."
"Wallace," I said, "That's just a guess, though, based on the turn of conversation more than anything else. Sometimes thinking of you with him can mess up my lunch, fer shure."
Linda glared at me and started to say something -- very likely something rather harsh -- then she seemed to peer at me for some seconds before she spoke in a normal tone with a somewhat sickly little grin.
"You learned well, didn't you, young Skywalker?"
"Couldn't help it, Obi-lady. Learned most of it from you."
Lifting a hand to Sue, Linda said, "I'm sorry, Sue."
Sue smiled, took her hand, and replied, "No problem."
Returning her gaze to me, Linda said, "But I don't want to talk about it right now. Okay?"
Shrugging, I said, "Sure. You already know what I'd say, anyway. Keep him for grins or ship his brass-plated butt back to the Navy; it's nobody's decision but yours."
She laughed, "You're so helpful."
"Just being pragmatic, ma'am."
Several bars of Mozart chimed and Linda reached for her purse to retrieve her cell phone. She answered it and listened for some moments, then said, "No, Harvey, I'd rather deal with them in person. Make it three-fifteen or so and tell them I'm on my way," and closed the phone. "Sorry. Gotta go. The NSA just dropped by the lab."
"Such fun," I said, "Want some company?"
Shaking her head, she replied, "No. They'll be kept waiting for a few minutes, then we'll talk about nothing much for another few minutes, and they'll be given the usual tour. It's just office politics at work."
"No envy here," I said, "Flitter, take us to Carrington base, please. Main entrance."
By normal aircraft standards, we weren't really flying; we were plummeting at the ground. Linda gripped her seat and gritted her teeth as she always did during our descents, but she said nothing as she rather starkly watched the ground rise to meet us.
After goodbyes, she stepped off the flitter and headed for the main building's doors on slightly shaky legs. I saw her take a deep breath en route, then another as she stopped in front of the doors to give us a last nod and a small wave.
The flitter was in stealth mode, so the door guard was as surprised by Linda's small wave at nothing as he'd been by her abrupt appearance on the steps.
His expression made Steph and Sue chuckle, but their humor abated as a few moments passed without my telling the flitter to take us anywhere.
Sue asked, "Are we just going to sit here?"
I shrugged as I turned to face her with a glance at Steph.
"As opposed to going where else, milady? There's nothing else on my schedule today, so I'm not in much of a hurry."
"We're blocking the entrance," she pointed out.
Looking appropriately enlightened, I nodded. "Flitter, take us up fifty feet." When we stopped moving, I put my feet up on the console and said, "Steph, you had to know what this African project of yours would mean in terms of preparation -- and what I'd likely have to do to 'pacify' those regions -- yet you nonetheless managed to suggest that I go to Africa. How did you slip that past your programming?"
Her eyes met mine as she quietly stated, "I didn't."
Sue's eyebrow went up, then went down just as quickly. That likely meant that either she'd managed to process the matter or Steph had instantly slipped her the answer. I had an idea of how she'd done it, but I wanted to hear her say it.
"Ed," said Steph, "You surprised us yesterday. None of our projections envisioned your solution. In every scenario we ran which involved you or one of Linda's teams, people died."
"It wasn't my solution. It was Sue's."
With a wry expression, she replied, "We never once considered the possibility that you'd step down to allow her to control the operation. Once I constructed a variable for the possibility that you might come up with a similar solution into my equations concerning Africa, I was able to..."
Raising a hand, I said, "Milady, let's cut to the chase. You're basically saying that you found a way to create an excuse to involve me, and then you used it, right?"
Glancing at Sue, Steph nodded. "Yes, I suppose so."
"And you did this even though the situation's very different and chances are just about zero that there's any way in hell to get the job done without someone getting killed?"
Nodding again, she said, "Yes. But the potential benefits to humanity outweigh the risk of potential... mishaps."
I couldn't help but snort a short laugh as I repeated her euphemism for the likelihood that some baddies would die. "'Mishaps'. Heh. Yeah, okay. Mishaps."
Tiger had stretched out on a seat and lay gazing around with general interest in activities below the flitter. His little head suddenly stopped moving and his right ear snapped forward, then his left. I looked in the same direction as Tiger.
A moving shadow had appeared on the ground in the distance. It was perfectly circular and seemed to be getting bigger. I looked up to see one of the spherical Amaran transports descending toward us. Well, toward the base's crater-like docking facility, actually.
Bristling slightly as he also looked upward, Tiger rather tensely asked, "What is?"
"It's an Amaran ship, Tiger," I said, "It carries people and things like an airplane. No problem."
The silver ball seemed to be in no particular hurry to reach the ground. I watched it descend for close to three minutes before it finally settled into the transport dock.
Keying my implant, I sent, "Ahoy the transport ship. Kemor, is that you?"
Kemor -- the ship's computer -- answered, "Yes, Ed. Are you here to make arrangements to visit the factory station?"
"No, we spent some time with Linda this afternoon and dropped her off here after a late lunch. I just thought I'd say hi while you were in the neighborhood. Thanks again for your help with my field implant. Have you met Stephanie and Sue?"
"Yes, Ed. We've coordinated data on many occasions. Elkor has very favorably spoken of your progress with your field implant."
"Well, you helped me to a great start, Kemor. I don't really have anything else; I just wanted to say hello."
"Thank you," said Kemor, then, "Goodbye, Ed."
"Goodbye, Kemor."
His link presence abruptly disappeared as I eyed the transport ship. Hm. I thought of Jackie, Ellen, Leslie, and even Caitlin, who'd been happy as hell to see me leave. Maybe I should make another trip to the factory station, after all? A place to go and a thing to do when I wasn't on the job and could act like a tourist?
A standard-sized flitter lifted from the loading area and went to stealth mode almost as soon as it cleared the enclosure.
I glanced at Steph and asked, "Elkor's flit? More PFM parts?"
She nodded. "Yes."
The flitter's console chimed. I keyed my implant to answer as Tiger's head shifted slightly so he could see the screen and continue studying the countryside.
Navy Captain Emory Wallace's face appeared on the screen. I glanced the call log. He was using Linda's datapad.
"Hi, Cap," I said with a tiny salute, "What's up?"
His eyes quickly scanned the three of us -- then settled on Tiger for a moment -- before he said, "Hello, all. Ed, Linda's on the phone with the local cops, so I got the honor of putting you on alert. You're to stand by for further instructions. Linda said you were still on base. Where are you now?"
"Just above your front door." Turning to Sue, I asked, "You know what it's about, right?"
She nodded. "A robbery in progress at Dell's Restaurant. Two 3rd World personnel are there and one used her watch to call for assistance."
"That's only about halfway to Glenfield. Flitter, take us there while we stand by, please. Subsonic."
The flitter instantly launched eastward along state road 200 as Wallace's gaze narrowed and he said, "Damn it, 'stand by' means 'stand by', Ed. You have no authorization to..."
"Too late, Cap," I said as we arrived at the restaurant, "We're there. I'll call you back in a few."
Keying off the console screen, I turned on my three suit and looked around the parking lot. The only car not in a parking slot was a white Chevy sedan by the newspaper boxes at the side of the building. Its engine was running, but nobody was at the wheel.
Hopping to the ground, I looked around in the car as I turned off the engine and removed the keys, then went to the restaurant's front doors for a look inside.
About eighteen people had been gathered in the dining room, a mix of customers and employees. Two guys wore ski masks; one held a gun on the cashier as she filled a carryout bag and the other kept everybody in their seats and quiet.
I'd been to the restaurant before; when the front door opened, a chime would sound. Besides, there was no reason to go inside unless the gunmen got rough. I could wait for them to come out and zap them on the doorstep.
But that wasn't to be. The guy by the register ordered the cashier to come around the counter, then shoved her at the nearest table as he shouted instructions. People at the tables began placing wallets and rings on their tables.
Oh, well. I sent a field tendril to jangle the car keys against the front door. Both gunmen instantly pivoted to aim at the door. My second field tendril split just beyond the door in order to touch each man's forehead simultaneously. Both men fell to the floor unconscious.
A man in the restaurant stood up and waved a badge as he spoke, then went to retrieve the robbers' guns and make a call from the phone behind the register counter. Good enough.
Walking back past the Chevy, I turned off my three suit as I tossed the keys on the driver's seat and stepped back aboard the flitter.
"Done," I said to Steph and Sue. "No casualties."
Patting Tiger and keying my implant, I activated the console to call Linda's datapad.
Wallace answered, and he looked more than a little pissed.
"What the hell's the idea of hanging up on me?!"
"It was time to go to work. The situation's over, Cap."
"What?!"
"Over," I repeated, "Done. Finished. Where's Linda?"
Looking as if he'd go ballistic, Wallace growled, "What the hell have you done out there?"
"Put my boss on or read about it later, Cap. I don't report to people who yell at me."
He looked as if he might bluster or explode for a moment, then he took a deep breath and made a visible effort to calm himself before saying, "Okay. Go ahead."
"There were two baddies, Cap. I tapped on the door to get their attention away from the customers, then I stunned them. Some guy with a badge took charge in the restaurant."
Linda was grinning as she gently shouldered Wallace aside to face the datapad's pickup camera and asked, "Where are you now, Dragonfly?"
"On the flitter in the restaurant parking lot, O Fearless Leader, ma'am. Your boyfriend yelled at me. Now I'm hurt."
She snickered, glanced at her watch and showed it to Wallace with a meaningful look, then said, "That was very quick work, Ed. Was anybody injured?"
"I don't think so. Didn't see any bodies on the floor 'cept the ones I put there, anyway. Got a question, though. Why didn't our people use their stunners?"
"One just got his today and the other didn't have hers with her. They're both brand-new personnel, so chances are they aren't too good -- or too confident -- with them yet. It's probably just as well they called the situation in."
"Okay. Just curious. Anything else, milady? Do I have to stick around to meet and greet with the cops, or can we just say the bad guys fainted from excitement?"
Snorting a soft laugh, Linda said, "Stick around, Dragonfly. I want a certain Detective Marlin to know what happened."
Nodding, I reached into the canopy console for my seldom-used stun wand as I said, "Okay," then, "Flitter, go to visible mode, please. Canopy and translucent barrier up."
Linda said, "That's all for now. Good work and don't give the detective a hard time, please. We'd like her to be happy to see us in the future."
Saluting in a general fashion, I grinningly said, "Roger that, Fearless Leader. Make her happy. Do or die, ma'am!"
Grinning, Linda said, "Oh, I do hope it won't come to that, of course. Later, Dragonfly. Good work." She poked her 'off' icon as three cop cars pulled into the restaurant lot.
The cops had apparently been updated on the situation en route. Five uniforms hurried into the restaurant as a brunette woman in a brown jacket-and-skirt business outfit came toward the flitter.
Hopping to the ground, I tucked my stun wand up my sleeve and waited until she reached the translucent barrier field before stepping forward to meet her. She looked me up and down once before extending her hand.
"Hello. I'm Detective Marlin. You are...?"
Taking her hand, I said, "Just call me Ed. My boss said you'd want to know what happened, so I stuck around."
Her gaze narrowed slightly, then she nodded equally slightly and eyed the flitter as she said, "I've already heard reports from 3rd World and those inside the restaurant. I'm told you used a stun device to incapacitate the suspects."
"Yup. Ever see one before?"
"No, but I'd like to see yours."
Nodding, I let the slender stun wand slip into my hand and handed to her.
She eyed the featureless metal stick for a moment, then asked, "How does it work?"
I grinned as I said, "Wake up the bad guys and I'll show you, ma'am."
Returning my grin with one that didn't look altogether real, she asked, "Couldn't you maybe just tell me?"
Shrugging, I said, "Sure. You point it at whomever and sort of envision a stun at them. It sounds kind of odd, but it's easy after you do it a few times."
Her skepticism was almost tangible. I looked around and spotted a cow munching some grass by a board fence that bordered the parking lot some fifty feet away.
"Watch," I said, and pointed the stun wand at the cow. "Half strength," I added, then I stunned the cow.
The cow instantly sagged to its knees, then its eyes closed and it collapsed on its side, out cold. When I looked at Marlin, she was staring in wide-eyed amazement at the cow.
"But... but you didn't do anything!" she whispered.
"Sure I did. I stunned the cow."
Fixing me with her wide-eyed gaze, she said, "What I mean is... Well, you didn't do anything! Nothing happened!"
"Well, I beg to differ, ma'am. The cow's out cold."
She almost grabbed the wand out of my hand and eyed it from end to end again, then hurried toward the cow. I followed and caught up with her just before she reached the fence.
"Excuse me," I said, "But every police agency in the country's been told about these stunners. There have been demonstrations damned near everywhere there are cops. How is it you haven't seen one work before?"
Marlin eased between the boards to get a closer look at the cow and said almost distractedly, "I was an Air Force AP until a few months ago, when I took this job. Never got a chance to see a stunner until now. Will the cow be all right?"
"She'll be fine. I can wake her up now, if you want."
Nodding, Marlin said, "Yes. Do that, please."
"You got it."
Stepping through the fence, I put both hands around the cow's ear and blew hard into it. The cow came up kicking and slinging her head around in a dazed fashion.
"Just in case you ever need to know," I said, patting the cow's shoulder as she moved away from us, "That trick'll get a plow mule off his ass, too."
The cow stopped some distance away and looked back at us rather suspiciously for a few moments, then shook her head hard and continued to move away.
Marlin raised the wand and looked at it for a second, then pointed it at the cow and squinted. The wand was keyed to me, so nothing happened, of course.
"They won't work for anyone but their owners," I said as I took the wand and zapped the cow, which again collapsed to the ground with a grunt.
"Damn!" hissed Marlin. "No sound. No flash. No nothing. Just like that..?"
"Yup. Just like that. Out cold and no harm done. It works on any living creature, as far as I know." Grinning at her, I asked, "You ready for one of your own yet?"
Laughing shortly, Marlin said, "Oh, hell, yes!"
Sticking the wand in my back pocket, I said, "You'll have to get with 3rd World, then. Want me to ring somebody up from the flitter?"
With a glance at the flitter, Marlin said, "I have to clear all equipment purchases with the department."
Leading the way back to the flitter, I said, "Then you'll know who to contact when it's cleared. This is just a call to find out who to call."
I noticed that there were now only two cop cars in the lot as she asked, "You mean you don't know?"
Shrugging, I said, "Nope. I was issued mine while the big ship was still here. I don't know who's in charge of sales."
Marlin fell behind when I walked through the barrier field. After a moment, she cautiously followed and I handed her aboard as she spotted Steph and Sue, then Tiger, who had at some point moved to the console dashboard.
"These are Stephanie, Sue, and Tiger," I said, indicating each in turn.
Shaking hands with Steph and Sue, Marlin told us to call her Rhonda, but she gave Tiger only a glance before her attention turned to the flitter in general.
I said, "Wait one. You aren't finished with introductions."
Her left eyebrow went up slightly as she asked, "You mean your cat? I'm not really a cat person, I'm afraid. Allergies."
Sue said, "Such allergies are usually incited by saliva or dander. Neither will be a problem aboard this flitter."
Tiger knew the word 'allergy' from other such conversations. He sat as tall as possible, regally curled his tail around his forepaws, and proudly said, "I am not allergy. Hello."
Looking first at Tiger, then at the rest of us, Marlin gave us a wry look and the comment, "Cute. Who's the ventriloquist?"
Tiger knew that word from other first-meetings, too.
"No," he said. "I talk. My collar talks. I am Tiger. Hello."
Sue said, "His collar translates for him, Rhonda. That's why you're hearing feline vocals as well as words."
With a slight sigh and a look that said that the joke had gone far enough, Marlin softly snorted, "Yeah. Right."
"Marlin," I said firmly enough to get her attention. When she faced me, I said, "It's true. He talks through his collar. Believe it or don't, but don't hurt his feelings. Tiger's part of our little group and he deserves to be included."
Hopping to a seat near her, Tiger stood up on the seat, put his forepaws on the back of the seat and said again, "Is true. I talk. My collar talks. I am Tiger. Hello."
It took Rhonda another moment of staring at Tiger to reach a decision, but she finally said, "Uh... Hello, Tiger."
"Thank you," he said. "You not touch?"
"Ah... Like I said, I have allergies."
"Not allergic to me. Not here."
"He's right," said Sue. "No fur or dander escapes his field. You may touch him if you wish."
Glancing at Sue, Rhonda asked, "His what?"
"His field," I said, "Something else his collar does. Just pet him, Rhonda. You won't have any sniffles unless they're psychosomatic ones."
Rhonda tentatively reached to pet Tiger. His happy little face made her laugh softly as he pushed himself into her hand. Once she'd made contact, it was as if she'd decided to throw caution to the wind; she took his face in both hands and ruffled his cheeks as he purred.
"I haven't touched a cat like this since I was twelve," she said quietly, "That's when we finally figured out why I always looked like I had a cold. I was allergic to our Jennybelle." She sighed. "My aunt adopted Jennybelle, and after we cleaned the house really well a few times, my allergy problems went away, but I always missed my Jennybelle."
Patting her shoulder, I said, "Take your time, then. Tiger's a glutton for attention and you've been saving it up."
Turning to Sue, I asked, "Who would Rhonda contact at 3rd World about buying some stun wands?"
"Patricia Gladstone. Would you like me to call her?"
"Whenever Rhonda's through communing with our morale officer. Thanks."
Rhonda laughed and said, "I think I could pet Tiger and talk at the same time. Go ahead and make the call."
The console screen came on and a dark haired woman said, "Patricia Gladstone. How may I help you?" then she seemed to peer at me and asked, "Have we met?"
Marlin startled and stepped back from the console, then squeaked and startled again when Sue disappeared from beside her.
"What..?" she began, but I turned my attention to the console screen and said, "No, I don't think we've met, Ms. Gladstone. I'm Ed and this is Detective Marlin. She's seen my wand and now she's interested in having one of her own."
Taking Marlin's arm, I stood her in front of the console -- and within range of Tiger's questing rubbings -- and said, "There you go. One 3rd World sales rep, as promised. I'll step out of the office now and let you two talk details."
Leaving Marlin to her own devices, I grabbed my coffee mug, hopped off the flitter, and headed toward the restaurant as a cop with corporal's stripes on his sleeves came out and headed toward me.
Sue stood beside the cow, petting it as she waved to me. Steph joined her and seemed to study the creature intently.
The approaching cop stopped and asked, "Is Detective Marlin aboard that thing?"
"Yes, she is. She's on the phone with someone at the moment, though. And that 'thing' is a flitter, by the way."
"Uh, huh. Who are you?"
"Name's Ed. I came with the flitter."
"Did you have anything to do with what happened here?"
"I've already talked with Marlin about that."
Stiffening slightly, the cop said, "Well, now I'm asking you."
"My boss told me to talk to Detective Marlin, Corporal, and she might prefer things stay that way for now. Better ask her."
Just because I was feeling ornery, I added, "You might want to find out who those women are with that cow, though. They sure don't look like farmers to me."
When he looked where I pointed, I whispered, "Three suit on," vanished, and quietly stepped well away from him.
His gaze found and studied Steph and Sue for a moment, then he looked back to find me gone and quickly pivoted to look around the lot.
After another few moments of searching, he headed toward the flitter. I didn't think he'd be good company in his present mood, so I keyed my comm implant.
"Flitter," I said, "Shields up. Soundproof and opaque. The cop approaching is not to be allowed aboard. Rhonda can talk to him when she leaves you."
The cop's gait changed when the flitter's barrier field changed from translucent to opaque. He eased forward and touched the field, then knocked on it. When nobody answered, he took out his handcuffs and used them to knock louder.
He waited some moments before he realized that nobody was going to let him in. With a last handcuff-swat at the barrier, he put the cuffs away and walked around the flitter toward Steph and Sue. I keyed my implant.
"Ladies," I said, "That cop is a little tense at the moment. You may have to sedate him a bit to help him be nice."
Sue chucklingly replied, "You're actually suggesting we sedate him, aren't you?"
"Well, only if necessary. Hey, he may fall in love when he gets a closer look at you and be no trouble at all."
Steph laughed and asked, "You think so, do you?"
"Why not? I did. Later, ladies. I'm going to get a coffee."
One of the cops escorted a woman toward the restaurant's door as I approached. I stopped beside the building to turn off my three suit, then held the door for them and entered the restaurant once they were past me.
The other cop stopped me before I got very far past the door, eyeing my fatigue shirt, jeans, and golf shoes as I looked around the restaurant. The two baddies were gone, likely in the cop car that had left.
Before he could say anything, I showed my ID and said, "3rd World sent me. I was in the area for other reasons."
The cop's eyebrow went up as he said, "You must have really hauled ass to get here so quick."
Shrugging, I replied, "I wasn't that far away. Where are the two 3rd World personnel?"
He pointed at a man and woman sitting at a table conveniently near the coffee pots. I thanked him and headed that direction, stopping at the coffee pots on the way.
At their table, I sat down as I said, "Hi, guys. I'm Ed. How are you two doing now that the ruckus is over?"
They were both in their twenties and apparently off duty, given the way they were dressed. She wore a sweatshirt and cutoffs and had her reddish-brown hair tied back in a ponytail. He wore jeans and a flannel shirt and had one of those military cuts that only leaves a tuft of hair on top of the head.
I sipped coffee as both of them eyed my outfit for a moment and decided how they'd handle my uninvited arrival at their table.
The man abruptly asked, "Ed who? You weren't here during the robbery."
"Attempted robbery," I corrected him, pulling the stun wand out of my back pocket and placing it on the table, "And I was here, actually. Outside, rattling keys at the door."
Both of them stared at the wand briefly, then the woman sighingly said, "Oh, thank you so much. We didn't know what the hell to think when the gunmen just fell down. Why didn't you come inside after you stunned them?"
Shrugging, I replied, "I wasn't dressed for dinner."
He laughed, she didn't. Oh, well.
"Sir," she said, "I only called my office because I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't use my cell phone and..."
Shrugging again, I said, "No sweat. It's not like you're in any kind of trouble."
"There wasn't anything else to do anyway, Joan," said the guy, "They had guns." He extended a hand to me and said, "Hi, I'm Dick Wexler."
The woman said, "Joan Humes," and also shook my hand, "Are you with 3rd World Security?"
"Yeah, sort of. I work for Linda Baines, but I don't spend much time on base. I was just visiting when you called, so I dropped by and..."
Joan hissed, "Oh, my God! Linda Baines! Ed! Now I know who you are!"
Wexler peered at her questioningly.
Glancing around the room, Joan sharply whispered, "Dick! This is the guy who went to Iran!"
Dick's eyes locked on me. Oh, hell. Nip this in the bud.
I said firmly, "Hold it down, people. We aren't going to talk about 3rd World business in a public restaurant."
With an 'are you serious?' look, Joan said, "What happened isn't exactly a secret, sir. Haven't you seen the news?"
"Did you see me on the news, lady? No, you didn't, and you won't risk making me a news item in here, either. I just came in to see how you two were doing and get a coffee refill while a cop makes a call from my flitter."
Holding up my coffee mug, I added, "And now I have it, so I'll be on my way."
Pushing her seat back and rising, Joan excitedly hissed, "You came here in a flitter?!"
It hadn't occurred to me that someone who worked at 3rd World's Earth headquarters would get so excited by the idea of seeing a flitter. I stood up, too.
"Wanna see it? If you're all through in here, it's outside."
Wexler said, "I'll go see if there's anything else we need to do. We filled out a couple of forms already."
"Nah," I said, "Just head for the door. They know where to find you and if there's anything left to do, they'll tell you."
As we neared the door, one of the cops started to say something and I asked, "Is Detective Marlin still aboard the flitter?"
He closed his mouth and glanced around before he shrugged slightly and said, "Must be. I haven't seen her since we got here."
"Oh, well. We'll find her. Do you need her in here?"
"Naw, it's all note-taking at this point."
"Good 'nuff." I led the others past him and outside.
As soon as Joan saw the flitter, she stopped cold. Her jaw dropped and her eyes got big, then she stumbled down the steps as if staring at some sort of miracle in progress.
Wexler and I exchanged a 'what the hell?' glance, then followed her as her speed increased to a quick march.
Joan reached the flitter's barrier field well ahead of us, running her hands over the smooth surface of the field and tapping on it with her fingernails.
"This is just marvelous!" she happily enthused as we joined her, "I've never seen one like this!"
"Glad you like it," I replied, "But that isn't the flitter."
She turned to give me a puzzled look. "What?"
"That isn't the flitter," I repeated. "Flitter, put your shields down, please."
When the apparently-stainless steel barrier field winked out of existence, Joan was left staring at the actual flitter almost three feet farther away, where Rhonda was sitting with Tiger.
Joan's gaze swept the flat deck, six seats and console, and the two women aboard, then settled on Tiger, who'd taken his usual place on the small dashboard.
"A cat?" asked Joan.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's what he is," I said, stepping onto the deck and turning to lend her a hand. Joan took my hand and stepped up as Wexler hopped aboard.
I turned and said to Sue and Rhonda, "Sue, Detective Marlin; meet Joan and Dick. They were in the restaurant."
As everybody shook hands I asked Sue, "Where's Steph?"
"Elsewhere," she said, with no further explanation.
Nodding understandingly, I asked, "How'd Rhonda make out with Gladstone?"
"Very well, I think. Gladstone spoke to Linda. You're to take Rhonda to Carrington base, where she'll be issued a stunner and some quick training."
"Oh, wow," I said, turning to Rhonda, "You talked her into a freebie, huh?"
Grinning, Rhonda said, "Not exactly. My department's been... slow... to accept them. I'm being issued a stunner for ninety days in an effort to open their minds a bit."
"Sounds good. Ready to go?"
"I can be ready in five. Be right back."
Rhonda didn't wait to be offered my hand; she gave Tiger a quick pat, then hopped down and headed for the restaurant at a brisk march step.
Apparently feeling bereft and neglected, Tiger looked at Joan meaningfully, but she was busy taking in the flitter. When he nosed her dangling hand, she squeaked, then apologized.
"Oh, I'm sorry, kitty! I didn't mean to startle you."
Tiger looked at me as if to ask where the hell I'd found this one, then he looked at Joan and said, "I not kitty. I Tiger. I not startled. You startled. I sorry startle you."
Joan froze solid and stared at him. Wexler's eyebrows went up as he gave me a sharp look. Tiger sat down and waited for someone to say something.
"Sue," I said, "Is that the best his translator can do? He sounds as if he just got off the boat from Cameroon."
"I talk good," insisted Tiger. "Not Cam... where."
"Yes, you do 'speak well', Tiger. But I think things could be just a little better. You sound like a foreigner who's still learning English, and your translator's supposed to know the language. I want you to sound as smart as you are, okay?"
He seemed to give that some thought before he replied, "Yes. Sound smart good. Thank you, Ed."
"You're welcome, friend Tiger." To Sue, I asked, "Well, milady? Is it fixable?"
Nodding, she said, "I'll allocate some more memory and work on it while we wait for Detective Marlin. It shouldn't be much of a problem."
Taking her hand, I said, "Thank you, milady. Have I called you a gorgeous goddess today?"
Rolling her eyes, she answered, "No, you haven't."
"Well, then, you're a gorgeous goddess, ma'am. A captivating creature of magic. Right, Tiger?"
He simply said, "Yes," then looked at Joan again.
Manufacturing a sigh, Sue said, "Oh, thank you both so much. Need I remind you that you have guests?"
"Nah. I'll get back to them sooner or later."
Turning to face Wexler and Joan with a grin, I asked, "The talking cat kind of got to you, huh?"
Wexler simply looked at me as if I was nuts. Joan started to say something, then froze again, this time with her mouth open. Wexler's expression matched hers.
"Ah..." began Wexler, "Uh... Sue..? She, uh, disappeared."
With a shrug, I said, "She does that sometimes."
He raised a hand slightly in protest. "But..."
Sipping coffee, I tried to look moderately inquisitive as I asked, "But what?"
"But... People don't... people don't just disappear."
"Sue does."
Joan jarred his elbow with hers and muttered, "He's playing with us, Dick. They both are."
"Wrong," I said. "I might be, but Sue isn't. She had a place to go and a thing to do." Gesturing at Tiger, I asked, "Are you going to pay some attention to Tiger?"
"Yes, please," said Tiger, leaning as far forward over the edge of the seat toward Joan's hand as he could manage.
Looking down at his teetering attempt to reach her hand, Joan bit back a chuckle and sat down with him.
"Yes," she said to Tiger as she patted him, "I'm going to pay some attention to the kitty."
Pausing as he stepped from his seat to her lap, Tiger said, "Not kitty. Tiger." He then finished traversing the gap and stood nose-to-nose with her as he said, "You smell good."
Wexler gave me a glance. "He really talks?"
Nodding, I answered, "He really talks."
Shaking his head, Wexler muttered, "Well, damn."
Rhonda appeared in the restaurant doorway and turned to say something to someone, then hurried toward the flitter.
Turning to Joan and Dick, I asked, "Are either of you any good with your stun wands? She's about to get one. Could be some coaching would be helpful."
"Would it be on the clock?" asked Wexler.
"Damned if I know," I said. "Probably not, but you'd make a friend in the local PD and earn some points with your own brass, right?"
As Rhonda reached the flitter and hopped aboard, Joan looked up from stroking Tiger and said, "It can be hard to get the conceptualizing part of it right the first few times, but once she's past that she'll do fine. Everybody does."
Looking at Rhonda, she said, "If you want some help learning to use your stun wand, I'll work with you."
Wexler shrugged and gave me a wry little grin as he said, "Me, too. There's nothing to it, really, but making that first connection with it can be a trick."
"Thank you," said Rhonda, "Both of you. I appreciate the offer." Turning to me, she said, "Ready to go."
Joan put Tiger on the next seat and stood up, saying, "Well, thanks for letting us come aboard. I've really enjoyed..."
"You aren't coming along?" I asked.
Glancing at Wexler, Joan asked, "You wouldn't mind?"
"No problem," I said, thumbing at Rhonda, "I'll be bringing her back here, anyway. Everybody sit down and buckle up."
Rhonda glanced around before saying, "Uh, but there aren't any seat belts."
"Nope." Facing forward, I said, "Flitter, back to Carrington base, please."
The flitter launched us into motion at barely subsonic speed. I heard a small shriek behind me as the dozen or so miles to Carrington zipped by in only seconds.
We settled next to the front entrance as before. I sipped my coffee to give everyone time to regroup, set my mug on the deck by the console, then hopped off the flitter to give Rhonda and Joan a hand down.
Instead, I wound up with Tiger, who jumped into my arms and asked, "Are we going to see Linda?"
"That came out well. Sue must have touched up your translator already. If Linda's not too busy, we'll stop in and visit with her. Good?"
"Okay. I like Linda."
None of the others aboard had more than stood up to stare around. I keyed my implant to activate the console and sent a field tendril to press Linda's icon.
She glanced around the flitter before answering, "Yes, Ed."
"Ma'am, are you too busy for some company?"
"No, I was about to wrap things up for the day."
"Got a few minutes for Tiger and me while Rhonda gets fitted for a wand? Oh, and Wexler and Humes have offered to coach her."
"No objections. Sure, Ed, stop by. I've always got a few minutes for Tiger. Sometimes I even have time for you."
"Gee, thanks, lady. Okay, see you in a few."
Linda poked her 'off' icon. The others were on their feet, staring either at me or the now-blank console screen.
I said, "Let's go, people. Hup, hup, and all that."
Rhonda took my hand as she stepped off and gave me a very direct, questioning look without explaining it or asking me anything. Joan and Dick both hopped off the deck and stood as if waiting for me to take the lead.
"Ed," said Rhonda, "That screen didn't turn itself on. How did you do that?"
"Magic." I headed for the doors and the others followed.
"I really want to know," said Rhonda.
"Sorry. You don't work for 3rd World."
Just inside the doors, the guard -- Tony Herse -- checked our ID's and his notes and issued Rhonda a visitor's badge as I set Tiger down on his desk.
He'd met Tiger before a few times, so when Tiger said, "Hello," Tony replied, "Hi, there, Tiger. How you doin' this evening, little fella?"
"I'm... okay," said Tiger. "My... English is better now?"
"I'll say it is," laughed Tony, "I'm from Brooklyn, so it may be better than mine."
With a smug, happy look, Tiger replied, "Good. Thank you."
Tony said, "Wait one," and poked the number for Gladstone's office on his phone. "Detective Marlin is here," he said, then, "Okay, ma'am. I'll tell her."
Turning to us, he said, "Ms. Gladstone's on her way. She'll escort you to her office."
"Tony," I said, "Tiger and I are on our way to Linda's office. We'll catch up with everybody later."
"Yes," said Tiger, "We'll... catch up. Goodbye? Yes."
"Bye, bye, Tiger," said Tony, giving him a little wave.
Tiger must have been enjoying all the attention; he usually didn't say half a dozen words all day. Joan and Dick still seemed in awe of a talking cat. They simply stared at us as we turned to leave. Rhonda said, "Goodbye, Tiger," with a grin.
Hopping down to the floor, Tiger trotted alone on my left as we proceeded down the corridor.
"You want me to carry you?" I asked.
"No. Thank you."
"Okay. Let me know if you get tired."
"Okay."
The sight of Tiger riding one of Elkor's platforms or walking through the corridors with me wasn't too strange to people at 3rd World after over three years of our occasional visits, but being spoken to by a cat was new to most of them.
Perhaps a dozen people in the corridor received one of Tiger's "Hello" greetings on the way to Linda's office. Some apparently assumed I'd spoken and answered with a nod or a "Hi," but only four seemed to realize they'd been greeted by a cat. Those four had all stopped and stared after us, which seemed to greatly amuse Tiger.
Near Linda's door, I asked, "You like startling people, huh?"
He instantly responded, "Yes."
I double-tapped on Linda's door and opened it to enter the outer office. Her secretary had apparently already left and the door to her inner office was open.
"Come on in," she called, and Tiger and I proceeded past the secretary's desk to the doorway.
Linda sat leaning her elbows on her desk, her hands clasped under her chin and a small baggie dangling from her fingers.
"Hello, Tiger," she said, and in an instant, Tiger was on her desk and sniffing the bag as he excitedly responded, "Hello, Linda! Hello! You have treats for me?"
Laughing softly, Linda opened the bag.
"Quick as a cat, as they say," came a male voice from the sofa chair by the door. I looked to see Emory Wallace.
"Hey, Cap. Khakis? That's pretty casual for you, isn't it?"
"New rules. How come you haul that cat around with you?"
As I watched Linda dole out a few of the treats, I said, "It's the kind of thing that has to be understood before an explanation would mean anything."
He laughed, "Well, that's Zen if I ever heard it."
One of the treats Linda shook out of the bag bounced oddly and fell off the desk. I sent a neon-blue tendril across the room to catch it and set it in front of Tiger.
When the twelve-foot tendril snapped into being, Wallace unassed his chair and yelped, "What the hell..?!" as he stepped back a pace and stared.
Linda muffled a snicker and said, "Thanks, Ed."
Thanks for retrieving the tidbit or thanks for startling the hell out of Wallace? Or both? I didn't ask. Wallace didn't seem in a hurry to return to his seat. I found that entertaining.
Bowing slightly, I said, "De nada, milady. It was nice of you to provide some refreshments."
Sue's presence became noticeable in the room, but since she didn't make an appearance, I said nothing about it. I headed for Linda's coffee pot, poured a cup, and sent a cooling field into it for immediate drinkability. Linda resealed the bag and dropped it into her desk drawer.
"You've had a busy last few days," said Linda.
"The Iranians and a bunch of other people had a busy last few days. I mostly just watched Sue do her thing."
"You went in after the prisoners. You came up with the idea to use independent probes to search buildings."
Sitting down in the other sofa chair, I put my coffee on the small table and said, "No. The ladies used probes in the bunker and probably just reused them in D.C. Steph or Sue would have suggested the building probes if I hadn't."
"Shit," muttered Wallace, "Why don't you just take a compliment for a change, Ed. We saw the vids. Two guys with rifles came at you in that cell." He glanced at Linda, then added, "And since you're working with a supercomputer, I'd like to know how that happened."
"Automation," I said. "Calculated oversight."
That made his eyes narrow a bit.
He asked incredulously, "You think they were allowed to find you? By Sue and Stephanie?"
Shaking my head slightly, I said, "Hell, no, Wallace. That's not what I said at all. When things like that happen to us, we call them 'accidents' and 'circumstances'."
"Us who? You mean people or... or computers?"
"Both," I said, "Sue and Steph likely set some things in motion and expected them to complete their tasks. The stun probes, for instance. They're like cruise missiles. You basically wind 'em up and let 'em go and they follow preprogrammed instructions. If the players shift positions at just the right times, they can screw up the results."
Speaking to the room in general, I asked, "Right, Sue?"
Sue popped into being in the center of the room and replied, "Exactly so. Your two guards had been napping in a nearby cell, so their potential danger to the mission had been calculated as rather low. Something you did in one or both of the cells you visited must have wakened them, after which they came to the womens' cell. Our probes didn't find the guards where they were supposed to be and they had no instructions to visit the prisoners' cells."
Linda sat stroking Tiger in silence. Wallace simply sat, his gaze fixed studyingly on Sue.
"It was a new-guy mistake," I said. "She never had had any military training." To Sue, I asked, "How many people did you, Steph, and Elkor evacuate from the bunker?"
"Four hundred and seventy-three."
"And animals? From the mountain in general?"
"Seventy thousand, six hundred and nine mammals and..."
Wallace's jaw dropped. "What?!" he exclaimed.
"She said 'mammals', Cap," I said, "Sheep. Goats. Cattle. Dogs. Odd little critters that live in the rocks. A few people. You want the rest of the count? Does it really matter?"
"Uh, no, I guess not. I had no idea..."
"You thought we'd just go blow up a mountain, right?"
He shrugged. "Yeah, well, something like that, I guess."
Sipping my coffee, I looked at Sue as I said, "Sue didn't like that idea. She has this thing about killing."
Sue gave me a 'you're being tiresome' look as she moved to the desk to help Linda pet Tiger. Tiger rolled over for a tummy rub and purred loudly.
Giving me a droll look, Wallace asked, "Weren't you in charge of the mission?"
"Until I turned it over to Sue, yes."
"Did anyone authorize you to do that?"
"More to the point, nobody objected."
His eyes narrowing tightly, Wallace said, "That's not the same thing, especially if those who could authorize such an action weren't consulted."
I gave Wallace a piercing look and said, "I was told to go do something by Linda. I discussed methods with Linda, including Sue's suggestions. Linda okayed the op."
"But did you let her know before the event that you were abrogating command of the mission?"
"Yup. Now tell me why any of this is your business."
Instead of answering me, he turned to Linda and asked, "Did he consult you concerning allowing Sue to command?"
Linda fixed him with a cool, tight gaze and quietly said, "Yes. Answer his question, Emory."
After a moment of silence, Wallace got up and walked to the coffee pot, poured a cup, and stood looking at us for another few moments before speaking.
"There have been some political repercussions. Threats have been made. Assassination threats."
"Big deal," I said. "'Kill the Infidels' has been their favorite tune for centuries."
"These were direct threats against key elected officials and 3rd World personnel. Personal threats."
"So return the favor. Make sure they know that if they kill our honchos, we'll kill theirs. They'll pay attention. The Imams and the other muckitymucks over there don't mind wasting members of their common herd, but we don't see them strapping on suicide bombs, do we?"
In a tight tone, Wallace said, "The US government doesn't work that way."
"PC bullshit. Who launched an airstrike against Libya's honcho some years ago? Who went after Noriega in Panama? Remember Grenada? And who recently sent troops after Bin Laden and Saddam and his goons with 'dead or alive' orders?"
Wallace started to say something, but Linda interrupted.
"Emory, are you saying that the US government is quietly looking for a political scapegoat?"
He bit his lip, sighed, and said, "It sure as hell looks that way to me. The words 'rogue agent' have been used, and a Congressman suggested that the US government deny all involvement in the destruction of the mountain."
"Were they involved?" I asked. "If so, it's news to me."
"Actual facts are beside the point, I think," said Linda. "3rd World's headquarters is on US soil. The matter of support for 3rd World's retaliation for the kidnapping could be seen as a bargaining tool in other issues."
"Like the orbital thing," I stated, "Or getting their grubby little hands on more details about Amaran technology."
Linda noddingly said, "Yes," as she stroked Tiger and played with his toes and tail.
Wallace said nothing, apparently preferring to sip coffee and wait to see how I'd respond.
"So," I said, "When do you want to start moving the base, milady? Where to, and all that?"
Laughing, Linda said, "That was my first sentiment, too, but there may be a few other options to explore first. I'll let you know if we need a hand packing and loading later."
"Good 'nuff. See if you can give me enough notice to sell the house and pack a few things."
"Will do," she laughed softly.
"You two seem to be taking this lightly enough," said Wallace, "Mind if I ask why?"
I held up my cup and he refilled it from the pot as I said, "Because the US government doesn't have any leverage. It might take all of three days to move the base and the training factory and leave bare flat spots where they were."
"Move them where?"
Shrugging, I said, "No idea. That wouldn't be up to me."
Sighing again, Wallace went to sit in the other sofa chair and said, "An attempt to move the base might provoke a military response."
Linda looked up and said flatly, "No problem." She stood up and leaned on her desk as she continued, "No casualties, either. But I'd hate to see it come to that, because then I'd have to make a choice. So would Ed." She paused rather dramatically and added, "And so would you, Emory."
He was obviously having a stupid moment. He asked, "And what choices would those be, Linda?"
She met his gaze firmly. "Whatever happens, I'm staying with 3rd World."
It was suddenly as if Sue and I were no longer in the room. Wallace and Linda stared at each other for several long moments in total silence.
I cleared my throat and stood up.
"Well, guys, it's time to see if anyone needs a ride back to town, so I'll just grab my cat and see everybody later. Sue?"
Sue said, "I'll go see if they're ready," and disappeared.
Tiger rolled over and got to his feet in mild confusion as I started across the room.
"Stand fast, mister," growled Wallace. "Am I hearing you people correctly? You'd jeopardize your citizenships?"
"Very damned doubtful," I said. "Look at the flitter factories and the starship effort. PFM's. All that. They'd say lots of nasty things about us in private, but they wouldn't yank our citizenships for fear of losing first dibs on all the fancy toys. We'd just become expatriates somewhere."
Looking at Linda, I suggested, "Ibiza would be nice. Lots of nightlife and good fishing."
Without taking her eyes off Wallace, she answered, "I'll be sure to pass that along, Ed. I'd like some time with Emory now, if you don't mind."
Nodding, I said, "C'mon, Tiger. Let's go see if Rhonda's got a lap for you."
He said, "Okay," and rubbed firmly against Linda's arm before jumping to the floor and walking to the door with me. At the door, he stopped and said, "Goodbye, Linda."
"Goodbye, Tiger. It was very nice seeing you again."
Tiger said, "I like you very much, Linda," then proceeded through the doorway, tail high with a proud stride.
Linda grinned and shook her head as she bit back a chuckle and made a little bye-bye wave at me. Tossing back a sloppy, two-fingered salute, I followed Tiger.
After I pulled her inner-office door shut, I heard Wallace mutter, "Jesus Christ. Running around with a cat. That guy's..."
Something -- possibly Linda's letter opener, smacked her desk as she snapped ominously, "You should stop now, Emory."
I didn't wait for more; if the outer office door didn't close on schedule, they'd know I was still in the office.
Once we were in the corridor, Tiger immediately headed for the west wing of the complex. I didn't know if he was following somebody's scent or if he actually knew to go that way to get to the admin offices.
Sue appeared beside me as we neared the intersection of corridors and asked, "Would you like to know what Captain Wallace said about you after you left the office?"
"He probably complained about how I wasn't his idea of a proper little trooper. He may even have said something snide about me running around with a cat."
Snickering, Sue said, "Essentially, yes. Would you like to know Linda's response?"
"Was it very different from what she said the last time he cranked off about loose cannons in general and me in particular?"
She laughed, "No. Not really."
As we reached Gladstone's office, I said, "Then tell me what you think, milady."
"I think your actions are normal for you."
Getting the door for her, I asked, "That's it?"
"That's it."
As soon as the door opened six inches or so, Tiger zipped in ahead of us, saying, "Hello! We are here!"
Sue and I entered to find Gladstone's secretary staring fixedly at the cat that stood on her desk. She moved not a muscle other than to swivel her wide blue eyes to us.
"Hi," I said, "Is Gladstone in, or did they go to the lab?"
"Uh..." the woman began, her eyes returning to Tiger, "Ah, they're back from the lab."
"That's Tiger," I told her. "He talks through his collar."
Her eyes flicked again, this time to focus on the silvery band on Tiger's neck.
"Hello," said Tiger, craning forward a bit.
The woman's eyes narrowed slightly further as she muttered, "Uh... hello."
"You could try petting him," I suggested. "Or not, if you're afraid of him."
Sitting straight, the woman rankled as she said, "I'm not afraid of cats. I like cats," and reached tentatively to pet Tiger. He leaned into her hand and sat down for more, coincidentally directly in front of the nameplate on her desk.
After a moment, she asked, "Is 'hello' all he says?"
Tiger said, "No. I say many things."
"Yes, he does," I agreed, "More so than usual today, in fact. Getting out of the house must agree with him."
The woman looked at Sue and pointedly said, "You don't seem to have a visitor's badge."
Glancing at me with a small grin, Sue replied, "That's because they haven't figured out how to make one that will stay attached to me when I do this," then she vanished.
Blinking at the empty space beside me for an instant, the woman switched her gaze to me and said softly, "Oh, my. Now I know who you are."
Sue's chuckle came from the air beside me.
I said, "Well, there's the proof of an old saying, milady. We're known by the company we keep."
Reappearing, Sue laughed, "Apparently so," then asked the secretary, "May we go in?"
"Uh... just a moment. I'll buzz her."
She did so and Gladstone replied, "Send them in, Maggie."
A target chime sounded faintly as Sue and I entered Gladstone's office; I spotted the four-inch brushed-metal box that was the target on Gladstone's desk.
Joan and Wexler sat on the couch behind Rhonda and Gladstone at the other end of the office.
The box chimed gently again as Rhonda pointed her wand at it and kind of grunted in a ladylike manner. I snickered softly and she snapped a sharp look at me.
"Sorry," I said. "Sound effects don't help, you know."
That got me a glare from Gladstone as Rhonda asked, "Do you think you could watch without cute comments?"
"Woo. We're kinda tense today, aren't we, ma'am?"
Rhonda opened her mouth to reply, then took a breath as she squared her shoulders, held it a moment, and let it out.
"You're right," she said, "I was tense."
"You're still tense, but don't sweat it. People get that way with new stuff. How's your score?"
When Rhonda passed the question to her with a look, Gladstone said, "She's up to about twenty percent. Not bad at all for someone who just picked up her first wand, I'd say. How well can you do with yours, Ed?"
Grinning at Rhonda, I said, "I could probably stun a cow."
Gladstone seemed ready to take offense if Rhonda didn't, then Rhonda said, "He didn't mean me, Pat. Back at the restaurant, he stunned a cow in the field next door."
Still looking somewhat miffed, Gladstone huffed, "Oh. I see. Well, in that case -- having established yourself as something of a master -- maybe you'd care to show us how it's done? Perhaps even give us something to strive for?"
I asked, "You want me to use full power, huh?"
"Oh, sure!" she said with a little smile. "Give it your best."
Aiming my wand at the target box, I keyed my implant and sent a stun blast from both the wand and my implant. The box's bitter shriek ended abruptly as it flew off the desk and slammed into the backrest of Gladstone's swivel chair.
The box fell to the chair's seat and bounced onto the floor, where it rattled to a stop by the corner of the desk. I leaned to pick it up and set it back on the desk, then sent a small stun burst at it. It remained silent.
"I think it's broken," I said, turning to face the others.
"Not broken," said Sue. "Some of the circuits are melted."
Everybody except Sue was staring at me. Wexler muttered a soft, "Damn!" and looked incredulously at Joan as Gladstone's expression morphed from shock to dismay.
"Sorry," I said, "You told me to give it my best."
Gladstone stepped forward and picked up the target box. She pried the back off and her nose wrinkled at the smell of charred circuitry as she examined the interior.
"That wasn't possible," she muttered.
"Uhm. Well, apparently it was," said Rhonda.
Taking my wand from my hand, Gladstone examined it for some moments, then peeringly looked at me as she asked, "What the hell have you done to your wand?"
I shrugged. "Nothing. It's factory issue."
"Would you mind if I have the lab confirm that?"
"Nah. Go ahead and call me a liar. I don't mind."
Stiffening, Gladstone said, "That's not what I meant."
"Oh, of course not, ma'am."
Slightly glaring at me, Gladstone marched to a cabinet and produced another target box and a plastic tube that contained a brand new wand. She set the box on her desk and handed me the plastic tube.
"Let's just see if you can do it again with this wand," she said, meeting my gaze with her glare. "And I expect to see the same results."
I slid the wand out of its container and felt a slight tingle through my implant as the wand keyed itself to me. Aiming it at the target box, I repeated my previous performance.
The target again screamed and slid off the desk, but stayed on the chair seat this time. Gladstone grabbed the wand out of my hand, went to pick up the box and open it and peered inside as she sniffed. Her nose wrinkled again.
She closed the box, set it on the desk, and looked at me for some moments, then went to the cabinet and took out a third target box, which she handed to Rhonda.
"It's my last one," she said. "Practice until you can register at least sixty percent on it and don't let him shoot at it."
"Not a chance," said Rhonda, giving me a meaningful look.
Gladstone slid the new wand back in its holder and set it on her desk by the target boxes. She seemed thoughtful for a moment as she studied the items, then turned to me.
"Okay. I believe you. Now run these people wherever they need to go so I can close up shop for the day."
Snapping her a two-finger salute, I responded, "Aye, aye, ma'am. By your command, milady," and scooped up Tiger.
"Sarcasm isn't necessary," she said.
"It wasn't sarcasm," I said, "Just a bit of humor. Relax, lady, those gadgets won't come out of your pay."
Turning to the others, I said, "Saddle up. We'll be outside," and headed for the door with Sue and Tiger.
In the corridor I heard quick footsteps and looked back to see Rhonda trotting to catch up with us. She fell into step with us and handed her visitor's badge to the guard, who had her sign out as we waited for her.
Once we were outside, she said, "I'd like you to train me."
"You won't need it. Twenty percent in an hour or less is pretty damned good progress."
As I handed her aboard the flitter, she asked, "But will it stop a big guy who's stoked on drugs?"
"No, but you'll be up to around sixty percent in a day or so of practice, and that'll stop him. Don't sweat it."
Joan and Dick weren't long in joining us aboard the flitter. I told the flitter to take us back to the restaurant once everyone was seated, then changed my mind.
"No, flitter," I said, "New plan. Joan is particularly fond of flitters, so let's take a real ride. Circle the city of Carrington at a distance of five miles and a height of five miles until further notice. Stay subsonic, please."
Opening the cooler, I took out a beer and opened it, then handed it to Rhonda. She took it rather numbly as she stared at the ice and drinks that seemed suspended in the air.
"It's a field effect," I said. "It bends light around the cooler and keeps heat out."
She reached to touch the cooler's lid as Joan opted for a can of tea and Dick took a beer. I opened a beer of my own and sat back with Tiger on my lap and my feet on the console, then keyed up the latest dance remix of "Long Train Running" and set the volume at four, which rattled the ice in the cooler.
Nobody spoke for a time, then Joan asked, "Ed, are you upset about something? Pat's reaction was a natural one after seeing something like that."
Shrugging, I said, "Nope. I'm not pissed." Looking at Rhonda, I said, "I was just thinking about how cops could use something else that'll be available soon. It's called a PFM."
"I've heard of those," said Joan. "They're something you stick on your arm, right?"
"Your arm, your leg, wherever else you want to stick it." Grinning at her around a sip of beer, I added, "As long as it can hear voice commands, that is."
Remarks like that are tests. I waited to see how she'd take it, and didn't have to wait long at all.
She grinned back and glanced at Rhonda as she said, "As long as they're concealable for undercover work. What all can PFMs do?"
"The manufacturer is still deciding about which features to offer, to whom, and when to offer them. My PFM can generate a defensive field that'll stop or redirect a low-caliber bullet. It'll also generate a paraglider or a hang glider." Grinning at Sue, I added, "Or a change of clothes."
I called up the suit-mask I'd worn in Washington. Tiger's ears went back as the material under him changed. He sniffed at my suit jacket dubiously, but said nothing.
The expression on Rhonda's face became a mix of mild disbelief and astonishment as she reached to touch the "cloth" of my jacket, then pinch-rubbed the lapel.
"Are you serious?!" Rhonda hissed excitedly, "A paraglider?!"
Her hand fell away from my "jacket". I turned off the suit-mask as I glanced past her at Joan and Dick. Rhonda had been looking at my outfit, but Wexler had been looking over the side at the city.
Sipping my beer, I said, "I'd have thought a cop would be more interested in PFM defensive capabilites."
"Ha!" she laughed explosively, then she reached into her blouse, a move that took me completely by surprise.
Rhonda grinned and produced a small silver pendant on a black silken cord. I recognized the crescent-shaped sliver of stainless steel as a parachute closing pin.
Grinning back at her, I mimed pulling a D-ring and laughingly said, "Well, Geron-i-mo, ma'am!"
With a laugh of her own, she replied, "You got it. Defensive capabilities are definitely interesting to me, but I used to be a rabid jumper. Out here -- outside the military, I mean -- it's an expensive sport and my career schedule as a cop hasn't really been very flexible for the last year or so."
Tipping my beer to her, I said, "My sympathies. Until last year, I'd almost forgotten what it was like to hang glide. Then I ended up with a prototype PFM and got back into flying."
"Prototype?" she asked.
"Yup. As in 'the very first one ever made'. We haven't had any problems with any of the prototypes, so PFMs should be available to the public soon."
She glanced at the others with a grin before saying, "We have about two hours of daylight left. Are you gonna demonstrate your glider for us?"
"I could do that. Flitter, suspend us above the restaurant where we picked these people up, please."
We changed course instantly and perhaps three seconds passed before the flitter said, "We have arrived at your designated location."
"Thanks, flitter."
I stood up and looked over the side, set Tiger on my seat, swilled the last of my beer, and tossed the bottle. It flashed to oblivion at the flitter's field perimeter and someone behind me screeched as I called up my five suit.
"See everybody later," I said, then stepped off the deck.
Someone screamed, of course. I heard the beginnings of it before I was out of range.
"Ed," Sue said through my implant, "Tiger just followed you. Should I retrieve him?"
"Not yet," I said, rolling so I could look up at the flitter, "Let him think about what he's done for a little while. Let's see how he handles it. Does he have a paraglider?"
"He acquired one the moment he jumped and he'll have to use it. I've adjusted his PFM to open his hang glider only under appropriate conditions."
"Good going, milady. Even if it was safe to open it, it would take him a hell of a lot longer to find the ground from way up here with a hang glider."
Apparently Tiger had decided he'd fallen far enough. His triangular field glider appeared as a green speck above me, then rapidly seemed to grow smaller as our distance increased.
I called up my paraglider so he'd see me and let my fall slow enough to open my hang glider, then began circling. It wasn't long before Tiger plummeted past me with a yowl, then his paraglider opened. Moments later, he called up his kite.
Switching back to my paraglider, I descended to his altitude, then changed back to my hang glider and guided it close to his.
"Hi, Tiger! Howzit going?"
As he yowled at me, his translator almost screamed, "You-not-tell-me-how-HIGH-UP!!"
Laughing, I said, "Well, now you know, don't you?"
"NOT FUNNY!! I made water!!"
He'd peed? Good thing I hadn't been right below him.
"Well, don't tell anybody else about that. Are you okay now, friend Tiger? Not scared now?"
After a moment's silence, he said, "No. Not scared now."
He didn't sound altogether certain, but I said, "Good deal. Just do what I do until we're back on the ground, okay?"
"Okay."
My implant tingled and I felt the flitter take a position on our right as Sue said, "I see you managed to find each other."
"Oh, yeah," I said. "No problem. How are the others handling things?"
"Well enough, I suppose, now that they can see you two aren't falling to your dooms. In case you'd like to know, you're just over three miles up."
Tiger asked, "What is a mile?"
I asked, "Remember when we walked to Connie's house? How far it was?"
"Yes."
"That was about one block, Tiger. Ten blocks are a mile."
"Ten?"
He'd once learned to count to five as I'd pointed out the toes on his left foot.
I said, "All of your toes on both front paws make ten."
Sue said, "I'll help," and made a picture of the toes on one of Tiger's feet appear before him, saying, "That's five, Tiger."
Adding another paw, she said, "Now ten," and adding four more paws, she said, "That's thirty blocks."
Little Tiger's ears went back. He looked at me rather starkly and said, "That's VERY far. We are VERY high up!"
"No problem. We're flying and Sue is here. We'll be fine."
"Actually," said Sue, "There is a small problem. We're about to enter an air traffic region. For everyone's safety, I'm bringing you back aboard the flitter."
With no further discussion, she fielded us back aboard the flitter and turned off our gliders. I was about to say something when a silver speck became visible somewhat north of us.
The others noticed that I was staring past them and turned to look as the speck became a plane. Some moments later it passed almost directly below us closely enough that I could read the numbers on its tail.
I quietly deleted what I had been about to say to Sue and instead said, "Thank you, milady. Getting sucked into a jet engine might be a bit more than my five suit could handle."
She snickered and took a seat by the console.
"You're welcome."
Tiger had been placed on one of the outer seats. He watched the plane pass below and echoed my "Thank you," then hopped up to the dash and began washing.
"Ed," said Joan. I looked at her and she bit her lip as she asked, "Do you have any idea how much you scared us all when you jumped? When your cat followed you?"
"His name is Tiger."
"Yes," said Tiger. "I am Tiger."
She glanced his direction with a slight, quick nod, then turned back to me.
I asked, "Are you still scared?"
"Uh, well, no, but..."
"Then forget it. Flitter, take us to the restaurant, please."
Joan stepped somewhat in front of me as I moved to a seat and said, "You knew how we'd react. That wasn't very nice."
"You want an apology? No problem. I keep a few spares in the glove box just for times like this."
She made no response as I sat down, instead staring beyond me at the uprushing ground as she locked onto the back of a seat and made a small keening sound. Dick had also taken a grip on a seat, and except for making no sound at all, he looked equally shocked by our descent.
The downblast of air created by our arrival kicked up a fairly large cloud of dust, but it settled so quickly that I suspected Sue had done something about it with a field.
A man who'd been facing the restaurant's doors spun around and nearly drew a gun, then reclosed his holster strap and stood watching the flitter. I noted a red and white 'Sorry, we're closed' sign on the doors.
"That's Detective Calvin," said Rhonda, apparently speaking to herself. "He got off at five. Why the hell is he here?"
Through my implant, Sue said, "According to message logs, he came here when he went off duty. It would appear that he's been waiting for her."
I nodded slightly and glanced at Rhonda as I said, "Well, the restaurant's closed. If he's off duty and he isn't married, how many other reasons could he have for being here?"
She caught my gaze and sat a little straighter, then stood up and said, "There's nothing between us."
Shrugging, I answered, "Wouldn't matter to me, but are you sure? I don't see any other cops waiting for you."
"We don't know that he's waiting for me."
Grinning slightly, I replied, "I think he is," and turned to Sue. "What do you think? Is he waiting for her?"
Lifting an eyebrow, Sue smiled and said, "It would certainly seem so. I suppose we could ask him."
With a droll expression, Rhonda said, "That won't be necessary. As far as I'm concerned, he's only here to give me a ride back to the station."
Giving her an appraising look, I said, "Uh, huh. Well, unless there's something seriously wrong with him, he'd be damned disappointed to hear that. You're kinda cute, y'know."
Rhonda gave me a wry smile and her gaze swept the others as she picked up her target box and said, "Thank you. And thank all of you for a very entertaining afternoon, but now it's getting kind of deep in here, so I'll be on my way."
She shook hands and said goodbyes with the others, then with me, then hopped off the deck to the ground, and walked toward Detective Calvin.
When Rhonda emerged from the flitter's perimeter field, the guy's mouth fell open as she appeared to walk through a stainless steel hull. Rhonda's step faltered slightly at his surprise, then she swung into a march toward him.
I watched her hips roll with her strides for a moment, then turned to Sue, who'd been watching me watch Rhonda. Sue's eyebrow went up again.
Keying my implant, I said softly, "You do it better," then turned to the others and asked, "Well, what now?"
Straightening, Joan asked somewhat sharply, "What do you mean 'what now'? Are you telling us you want us to leave?"
Shrugging, I answered, "No, not necessarily. If you know a good place to grab a steak dinner, I'll listen. If you don't, let me go so I can go find some food."
She glanced at Wexler and replied, "At this hour? Around here?"
"Here, there, anywhere. Doesn't really matter. If you don't come up with something, I can be in Florida in half an hour or so. I won't starve."
Joan looked and sounded openly skeptical. "Half an hour?"
Giving her a droll look, I reiterated, "Or so."
Wexler stared at me for a moment, then said, "That's about... uh, three thousand..."
"Yeah, it's real fast," I interrupted. "Somebody pick out a restaurant or I'm gonna toss you both overboard and split."
"Uhm... well, there's..."
This time Joan interrupted him.
"Nick's," she said in a rather challenging tone, "In Dallas."
"Any particular reason?"
She slightly grinned as she stated in that same tone, "I read about it the other day. It got good reviews."
Did she think I was bullshitting her?
Sue said, "That restaurant is in the West End area. I've given the flitter the coordinates."
Nodding, I said, "Thanks, milady. It's in Texas, so they can probably cough up a decent steak. Flitter, take us to Nick's. Max warp, please. I'm kind of hungry."
The flitter launched us into the sky at just under the speed of sound. Joan screamed and locked onto the back of a seat. Wexler went to his knees clutching the back of another seat.
When we reached forty thousand feet, the flitter instantly bolted southward at full speed. Sue sighed at me in a meaningful fashion, shook her head slightly, and faced front.
In the ensuing silence I heard Joan's harsh, rapid breathing and turned to see her easing her way around the seat to sit down. Wexler hadn't moved at all, as far as I could tell.
"Well, damn, people," I said, taking a seat, "You knew this thing could haul ass. Do you see me freaking out? Is Tiger upset about anything? Get your shit together, okay? We'll be there in a few minutes."
Joan screamed, "You bastard! You could have warned us!"
"Yeah, well, check the glove box again. See if there are any of those miscellaneous apologies left."
Tiger's ears were sharply forward as he watched Joan and Dick. His tail twitched and switched in a way that indicated he was highly amused.
I grinned at him and said, "I'll save some steak for you."
He looked at me long enough to say, "Thank you," then returned his attention to Joan and Dick.
Calling up a datapad screen, I located Nick's. Right on the river, such as it was. The "Trinity Ditch", most people there called it.
A trickle of water a few yards wide lay between two man-made embankments ninety-five percent of any year, but now and then that mile-wide channel filled and even overflowed.
When I'd been about fourteen, it had been the wettest year in recent history. Not only had the Trinity Ditch overflowed, so had nearby Mountain Creek lake.
The lake had flooded some of the countryside and what had then been the Twin Drive-In theater along US-80. A few friends and I had gone to help fill and place sandbags at the mobile home park nearby, but there was already two feet of water everywhere, so we ended up milling around a snack wagon waiting for rides home.
That's when Billy Chalmers had muttered, "Well, Gawd-dayum!" and pointed at the water in the drive-in.
A catfish with a mouth the size of a car tire was swimming aimlessly around the drive-in parking lot, his dorsal fin standing tall as he explored his new accommodations.
Steve Holden spotted one by the drive-in's snack building, then another one swam into view by the white board fence, apparently trying to find a way past the barrier.
Families in that area were mostly poor and there wasn't much anyone could do about their homes, so some bright soul wired a piece of chain link fencing across the theater's entrance and probably a dozen people went fishing with ropes.
I punched up old Dallas Morning News records for 1964 and ran a search for articles mentioning the Twin Drive-In, and sure enough, there was the picture I remembered; Steve Holden up to his knees in water, throwing a lasso at a four-foot catfish.
Pointing at the guy on the other side of the catfish from the rope-thrower, Joan glanced at my face rather peeringly and asked, "Is that you? That kid looks like you."
"It's me. I used to live near Dallas. It rained a bit that year. The guy with the rope is Steve Holden."
Dick Wexler leaned in close behind her.
"That's a catfish, isn't it?!"
"Yup. The other two were bigger, but this one was faster. It got Billy Chalmers with a fin. Nearly drove it through his leg. Or so he said, anyway. I never actually saw the wound, and he was known to exaggerate now and then."
We talked about events of that time until we reached the sky above Dallas. Sue said, "We're about to descend," and received "Thanks for the warning," from Joan as she and Dick hurriedly took their seats.
It was just starting to get dark as they saw the Trinity Ditch, displayed the usual tourist's reaction to seeing the tiny dribble in the center of it, and marveled at the amount of water it would take to fill it, much less keep it full for days and cause flooding.
Sometime during our descent, Sue changed into her little black dress. I glanced up and noticed with my usual appreciation. That caused Wexler to also look at Sue.
His eyes went wide, his mouth fell open, and he muttered, "Uh...", which made Joan look. Her reaction was much like his.
Sue smilingly lowered us to the street between a fairly modern glass-and-steel building and an old brick building that appeared to have once been some kind of warehouse.
As if to say, 'Despite the big-assed, garishly-multicolored neon sign we stuck on the roof, we have loads of class,' a smallish brass plaque by the main doors was the only sign at street level that the brick building housed the restaurant.
More in keeping with the garish neon sign than the brass plaque, Nick's turned out to have a very 1950's Texas-themed decor that sprawlingly occupied the entire second floor.
Some of the tracks and fittings that had once handled heavy loads on pushcarts had been polished to a high gleam and one of the refurbished antique carts sat behind a rope barrier in the center of the lobby area.
The other most noticeable thing about the place was that -- except for Sue -- we were all underdressed. Everyone else looked as if he or she had just walked out of an office.
Such things don't bother me much. I just assume that if they'll let me in at all, they'll take my money and avoid offending me. Usually that's how it goes; sometimes not.
Two tall, good-looking blondes in matching, low-cut black sheath dresses with hemlines only slightly lower than Sue's stood by the reception podium.
Both eyed our group with apparent doubt, although I noticed that the one on the left -- Loren, the manager, according to the nametag on her left breast -- seemed to have a strongly positive reaction to seeing Sue.
She bit her lip and let her eyes rove from Sue's ankles to her hair before she looked at me. Her gaze then narrowed and swept the rest of us as if she were having to make a decision.
Joan muttered, "I didn't know there'd be a dress code."
"You read about it way the hell up in North Dakota," I said, "A local fast-food place it isn't, even though it kind of looks like an old small town diner on steroids."
Fixing me with a sharp look, Joan said, "Well, it didn't occur to you, either, smart guy."
"Oh, yes, it did," I chuckled, "But I don't worry about things like that. They have empty tables tonight. If they want to fill one, they'll let us in. If not, we'll find a Wendy's or something."
To Loren, I said, "We're tourists. Do we get in?"
The two blondes conferred very briefly, then Loren nodded and led us into the dining room and to a table by a window. On each table was a small Texas flag at half-mast on a pole.
Pulling the cord, Loren raised the flag and told us to use it to signal our waitress if we needed anything between her visits to our table.
When the waitress arrived -- a truly fine-bodied brunette woman who looked like a '50's calendar pinup in a short-skirted cowgirl outfit with white boots -- she handed us menus and asked if we'd like anything while we made our selections.
We ordered drinks and she strode away from our table like a Rockette, her A-line skirt slapping her thighs with every step. I looked at Joan and asked if all women practiced that walk.
Joan laughed, "We don't really have to. It just happens."
Some minutes later, the waitress returned to take our orders with Sue's explanation that she was on a special diet. Our food arrived within fifteen minutes, which I thought was fairly quick in comparison to many restaurants I'd visited.
The only things truly exceptional about the place were the prices, which were astronomically high. On the other hand, the food was very good, there was more than enough of it, and the service was almost too good, even without using the flag.
Then there was the waitress, Brittany. I might otherwise have waved her off a few times, but the fact was that she was just too deliciously good-looking.
Dick was also having trouble keeping his eyes off her. He asked, "She kind of looks like Carmen Electra, doesn't she?"
I nodded. "Damned sure does."
Giving us both a wry look, Joan said, "Pull your eyeballs back in and eat, boys."
Sue grinningly asked, "Should I file a copy of her for later?"
Taking my eyes off the waitress, I met Sue's eyes and replied, "No, milady, you needn't bother. She's only damned good-looking. You're perfect."
Joan groaned softly, then snickered as Dick grinned at me.
"Good comeback," he said.
Looking at Sue again, I said, "They seem to think I'm being less than honest with you, ma'am. Care to show them?"
A small field screen appeared on the table. On one side of it were both numeric and symbolic representations of my pulse rate and on the other side were twelve scrolling lines that displayed peaks and valleys.
As I reached to turn the screen slightly for a better view, two of the lines jumped and remained very active. My pulse rate increased a tenth of a percent with the motion.
I looked above and beyond the field screen at Sue and several lines became considerably more active as my pulse jumped over four percent.
Looking at the others, I said, "Bullshitting Sue is difficult."
Poking his finger through the screen, Dick muttered, "Well, damn. I guess it would be, at that."
Joan seemed either puzzled or thoughtful as her eyes met mine for a moment, then seemed to lock with Sue's. She reached to put her fingertips on the back of Sue's hand, then pulled her hand back and picked up her fork to resume eating.
"Problem, Joan?" I asked.
She briskly shook her head without looking up from cutting her steak, then stopped cutting, sighed, and quietly said, "I'm sorry. It's none of my business."
Shrugging, I said, "You're right, it isn't. It also isn't the first time anyone's wondered about that, so don't sweat it."
The matter caused a somewhat prolonged silence until Dick asked a question about flitters, and from then on table chat had mostly to do with with fields and the flitter, which we knew to be hovering just above the street beyond the window, even though we couldn't see it.
I deferred almost all questions to Sue as I ate, but toward the end of the meal, Wexler aimed his fork at me and swallowed a bit of steak before asking, "What is it you actually do, Ed? For 3rd World, I mean?"
Looking up from the last of my steak, I said, "Nothing."
He gave me an odd look and a small grin as he asked, "They pay you, don't they?"
Nodding, I said, "Yup. That they do."
With a grinning glance at Joan, he said, "Then I'd say you work for them."
Shaking my head, I said, "Nope. I work for Linda Baines."
Joan chuckled and forked up a bit of steak, pausing before putting it in her mouth to say, "So split hairs if you want. You still work for 3rd World. If Ms. Baines retired..."
"I'd probably retire, too," I finished for her.
She met my gaze for a moment, then looked at Sue, whose expression didn't change a whit.
Looking back at me, she asked, "You're serious?"
Shrugging, I ate the last of my steak, then said, "Well, I'd wait to see who replaced her, but it probably wouldn't matter a helluva lot. We were the first team. Anybody new usually thinks they have to make a bunch of changes."
Wexler asked, "The first team?"
"Back when the big ship came. Before there were hard and fast rules about anything but keeping Amarans alive long enough to get deals done and factories established. Linda was running the show, so I accepted an invitation to sign on."
Joan opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a woman's scream from another table. Following the scream, the man at that table slumped and toppled out of his chair to lie unconscious on the floor.
Sue materialized beside the guy before anyone at our table realized she'd disappeared, including me. Getting to my feet, I said to the others, "Let's go. Get over there and keep people away while she works on him."
We placed ourselves around Sue and the man on the floor. He was straightened out on his back by invisible forces, his chest began moving up and down rhythmically, and his color improved quickly after a pulse became visible in his throat.
Our waitress and the two blonde hostesses arrived. Sue calmly told them that she'd called 911 and that things were under control.
Loren peered at the guy and whisperingly, incredulously asked, "Under control?!" She sent the other woman to call for help and turned to Sue, exclaiming, "You've just been standing there! You didn't call anyone!"
"Yes, she did," I said, taking her arm and the other woman's arm to turn them around, then gesturing at the rest of the people in the restaurant, some of whom were on their feet and moving our way. "Help us keep everybody at a distance until the medics get here, okay?"
Attempting to look back, Loren managed, "But..."
"Later!" I snapped, "Crowd control first. Keep everybody cool, quiet, and out of the way. Put someone at the door. Keep it clear for the cops and medics."
Some guy came up to us and said he was a doctor as he tried to step past me.
"Great," I said, taking his arm to halt him for a moment, "Watch what she's doing, but don't interfere."
In moderate shock that someone would say such a thing to him, he rather incredulously asked, "What?!"
Lightly feeding him theta waves, I quietly reiterated, "Don't interfere, doc. The guy's breathing again and he has a pulse. She's doing fine."
"What the hell are you talking about? She's not doing a damned thing!"
"She's using Amaran technology. The guy has a pulse and respiration and help's on the way, so relax."
The theta waves kept him cool, but didn't erase his incredulousness. I let him go and he hurried to kneel by the guy on the floor and begin checking him over.
Rocking back on his heels, the doc regarded Sue peeringly for a moment, then turned his attention to the man on the floor. Sue looked at me and I shrugged.
Keying my implant, I whispered, "Can't hurt to have a qualified witness, and if the guy dies, the doc can sign for it."
"He won't die," Sue replied. "I removed the ventricular blockage."
"Okay, but he already died once, so don't trust him."
Within a few minutes, the medics from a local fire station arrived. As I saw them coming up the stairs, Sue moved to stand by the guy's feet.
The guy on the floor continued breathing on his own, but the doc looked ready to administer resuscitation if necessary and directed the medics after identifying himself.
When Sue stepped back from the activity, so did I. Joan and Dick saw us moving away and joined us back at the table as the medics lifted the guy onto a gurney.
"Unless you want publicity," I said to Sue, "This would be the time to disappear. It's your choice, milady."
"My choice?" she echoed, one eyebrow raised.
"Yup." I thumbed at the gurney they were rolling toward the stairs. "You might even want to field that gurney to the street for them and tell them what you did up here if you think it'll help gain the medical-use fields some good press."
Looking appropriately enlightened, Sue nodded. "Steph agrees. Thanks, I'll join you later."
She disappeared and reappeared by the stairs, to the consternation of all in the vicinity. The gurney left the floor, its legs folded, and it began to descend the staircase all by itself in a perfectly level manner. Cops and medics grabbed at it, couldn't stop it, and finally allowed it to proceed as Sue spoke to them. I keyed my implant.
"Flitter, make yourself visible, please."
Shouts of surprise came from the street outside and people gathered at the windows. Loren stood nearby. I grinningly waved at her and she stepped over to the table.
"Hi, there," I said, "You may remember that we came here with the lady who kept that guy alive and went downstairs with the medics. That's our ride you've been staring at."
Glancing out the window, she asked, "You came here on that thing?"
"Yes, we did, and it's called a flitter. Our friend Sue is likely to be stuck here for a little while, Loren. Would you like to step aboard for a closer look?"
She looked me over in an assessing manner and drawlingly asked, "You're saying it belongs to you?"
Nodding, I answered, "Yup. Need proof?"
Shrugging, she grinningly said, "I wouldn't mind."
Keying my implant, I softly told the flitter to glow neon blue, which it instantly did, lighting the entire block.
"Now glow white, please," I said, and it was like daylight out there. Loren had to shield her eyes to look out the window.
When her startlement wore off a bit, she canted her head slightly and asked, "Now, why, I wonder, would you be inviting me to go out and see your uh... flitter?"
"Not just see it, Loren. Go for a ride. Sue's gonna be busy for half an hour or more with the cops and medics."
Glancing at the table, she grinned. "In return for what? Tearing up your hundred-dollar dinner tab? And if I couldn't do that, would your offer still stand?"
Nodding again, I said, "Yup. It isn't about the tab."
"Then why?"
"Maybe I'm just a sucker for a beautiful blonde."
Laughing, she said, "Gee, thanks. Join the crowd. You don't want to tell me, do you? Are you in some kind of trouble?"
"No trouble. And maybe no stops or questions, either, if we head out the door with the manager."
Joan spoke up with, "Ed, we aren't in any hurry, are we?"
"Well, I still have to run you two back to North Dakota. I figured to do that while Sue's chatting with the local PTB's."
"The what?"
"The 'Powers That Be'."
Loren's mouth fell open. "North Dakota?!"
Dick raised a calming hand and said, "It's only about fifteen minutes away by flitter."
"But it's half an hour, round-trip," I said, "Sue ought to have things pretty much squared away by then."
Remembering my promise to Tiger, I used a napkin to contain some steak scraps, then said, "I'll give the napkin back after set this stuff down for my cat."
Continuing her general state of surprise rather well, Loren asked, "Your cat? You have a cat aboard that thing?"
"His name's Tiger. He might surprise you, too."
Snorting a sharp laugh, Loren asked, "Yeah? Why's that? Because he's a real tiger?"
Holding my hands apart about three feet, I replied, "Nah. He's only about like this, nose to tail. He's got stripes, though. How long are we gonna stand here talking?"
Loren looked around the three of us for a moment, then said, "Give me a minute," and headed for the other blonde, then waved for our waitress, Brittany, to join the conference.
A few minutes later she returned and said, "I'd like Brittany to come with us. Is that okay?"
Joan's left eyebrow went up as if something had been more or less confirmed in her mind, but she said nothing.
"No problem," I said with a shrug. "Six seats."
Loren turned and nodded. The other blonde nodded in return and Brittany hurried to the restrooms. A few minutes later, she came striding out of the alcove in a dark blue version of Loren's outfit.
She was simply stunning. Dick's mouth fell open slightly, and I felt that it was probably a good thing that he was standing behind Joan at that particular moment.
"Okay," said Loren, "We'll be going out the back way."
Leading us through the kitchen, Loren took us to a freight elevator that took us to the ground floor, then led us past shelves of restaurant equipment, condiments, and packaged foods to a door that opened on the street behind the building.
We walked around the corner into the melange of cops and civilians on the sidewalk and found that members of the media had arrived. Only two of them were interviewing cops; the other dozen or so were focused on the flitter.
Four TV news trucks and vans and a number of cars littered the street without regard to parking issues. Three more cars arrived and disgorged eager newsies as we watched. I looked around for Sue, but didn't see her.
Holding up a hand to stop our group, I said, "Flitter, drop your canopy field, please, establish a barrier field, and lower to ground level. Those accompanying me are to be allowed aboard, and I'd like you to extend your field to create a six-foot-wide corridor for us."
Albeit through what appeared to be a grey-tinted shell, the flitter's flat deck and interior became instantly visible, to include the striped cat sitting on the console dash. Cameras flashed and various exclamations came from the crowd as the flitter lowered to the street.
An unoccupied police car that partially blocked our path to the flitter slid and turned sideways enough to allow the grey translucent field corridor to form and I felt my implant tingle as I saw the field surround us.
Loren had taken hold of my right arm and Brittany had my left. Both shied away from the barrier, which rather made me the center of their sandwich.
"It's just a field," I said, freeing my left arm to reach through it and waving my hand. "No sweat."
Neither of the ladies looked altogether convinced, but Loren reached to try to touch the field. She couldn't, of course, but she readily noticed the way it kept the newsies out of the path defined by the field.
"Ready," I said to Joan and Dick, "Take the lead."
Brittany breathed, "Oh, my God..." as we moved forward.
Much of the crowd moved to try to get closer to the flitter, but they found themselves abruptly halted six feet from the flitter's deck.
A few tried to push their way through, anyway, and it bugged me a bit, but when one of the camera guys yelled, "Gimme some room!" and tried to bull his way through the field with a short running start, I sent a tendril to stun him as he hit the barrier field.
He flattened against the barrier, then crumplingly slid down the side of it to the pavement, where he lay unconscious. That made most the others back away from him -- and the flitter -- rather quickly.
As we walked to the flitter, more cameras flashed and some guy who seemed to be seeing the world only through his videocamera's viewfinder walked smack into the corridor field.
He rebounded with a harsh exclamation as he rubbed his eye and stared at it, ignoring the snickers and laughs of some of his fellow newsies.
People were yelling, "Who are you?" and more at us.
Loren surprised me by reaching into her purse and smilingly handing business cards to people beyond the barrier. Brittany saw what she was doing and began doing the same on her side of the corridor.
When Brittany reached for a second handful of cards, I took one and read it as we walked. It was a restaurant business card with her name and the title 'Associate Manager'.
"That's some dedication to the job," I said.
"Never pass up an opportunity," she replied, waving and smiling for the cameras. "We do some modeling, too."
"Then maybe I ought to let everyone know we'll be back in half an hour."
I hopped up to the flitter's deck and handed Loren and Brittany aboard as Dick did the same for Joan, then waved my arms to get the attention of the crowd.
As Loren and Brittany grinned and waved at the crowd, I picked up Tiger and announced, "We have to make a quick trip to North Dakota. I'll bring these ladies back to you in about half an hour. Have a drink and stick around."
Someone yelled, "Half an hour?!" and someone else yelled, "What's in North Dakota?"
"Carrington," I answered, "Don't be so nosy."
Turning to Loren, I asked, "Good enough?" as Tiger discovered the napkin full of steak bits and lost all interest in anything else.
Some woman with a camera yelled, "Who are you?", but I ignored her in favor of setting Tiger on one of the seats and telling the flitter to take us back to North Dakota.
Flicking open my belt knife, I began cutting the steak chunks into Tiger-sized pieces as we lifted into the night sky. The usual first-flight squeaks and screeches preceded the others hurrying to seat themselves.
"What about Sue?" asked Dick. "Aren't you going to tell her we're leaving?"
"You think she doesn't know where I am every minute? Flitter, go to stealth mode, please."
Joan glanced at Brittany and Loren and somewhat tightly asked, "Does she also know you brought them aboard?"
"Sue?" I asked.
Giving me an irritated 'Who the hell else?' look, Joan opened her mouth to retort as Sue popped into being by the console and asked, "Yes, Ed?"
Loren and Brittany shrieked and Brittany slipped and nearly fell as she powered out of her seat and backed away. Loren simply sat there staring at Sue. Joan only gasped and breathed rather rapidly for some moments.
"Joan, here," I said, thumbing at her, "Is concerned that you may not be aware that I brought two gorgeous young women aboard the flitter, milady."
Sue grinned at Joan, then disappeared and rematerialized beside Brittany, who shrieked again. I felt my implant tingle sympathetically as Sue fed her theta waves.
"Brittany," I said, finishing the job of dicing up Tiger's steak, "Have a seat and relax. That's just how Sue gets around when she wants to be seen."
As wide-eyed Brittany hesitantly eased around Sue to return to her seat, I wiped my knife on one of my paper towel hankies, ran a searing heat field over the blade to sterilize it, then closed the knife and put it back in my belt sheath.
"Good stuff, huh, Tiger?"
Looking up at me, he replied, "Yes. Very good. Thank you," then he looked around at the others.
Focusing on Loren, he said, "Hello. I am Tiger." He then looked at Brittany and repeated his greeting.
Both women stared at him fixedly and Brittany looked as if she might get out of her seat again.
"Sorry, Tiger," I said, "Most people just aren't used to cats who speak as well as you. Give them a minute or so."
If he'd been human, he'd have probably shrugged as he looked at me, said, "Okay," and went back to his steak bits.
Almost inaudibly, Loren muttered, "You gotta be kidding."
"Nope. His collar translates for him. What kind of story are you going to tell the reporters when we get back?"
Brittany blinked at me and asked, "Story?"
"Yeah. Are you just gonna tell 'em we dropped some people off in North Dakota, turned around, and came back? Or will you clam up and make it look like some kind of secret mission?"
Loren grinned at that. Brittany didn't.
She asked, "Why tell them anything?"
"If you don't, some of 'em'll prob'ly try real hard to figure we had an orgy or worse. That's how they are, y'know. Anything to sell a few papers."
Joan and Loren thought it was funny. Brittany stiffened and looked at them before looking at Dick. He happened to be intently eyeballing her chest at the time and rather self-consciously dragged his gaze to her face.
That seemed to polarize Brittany's opinions. She turned to Loren and asked, "So, what'll we tell them?"
"Call it an advertising junket," I said. "That's how you'd have to write off our dinner anyway, since we aren't food critics. When our pictures appear on TV and in the papers tomorrow, 3rd World's Dallas office will probably want to ask you what we were up to. Maybe you can milk some publicity."
Nodding, Loren said, "Sounds good enough for now."
"Something else," I said. "Dallas is about fifteen minutes from my house in Florida. If I went to a local restaurant, I'd have to wait that long for food, so I might as well visit Dallas. Feed me when I'm in town and I'll park the flitter above the street in visible mode."
"Visible mode?" echoed Brittany, looking a bit confused.
"Yup. It was out there all during our dinner. Did you see it before I turned it blue?"
Sue raised a hand slightly and said, "Ed, an attempted robbery in Sioux City has turned into a hostage situation."
Making a hands-off-the-controls gesture, I said, "You have the ship, milady."
We abruptly began descending on a bit of an angle at a barely subsonic speed that caused our passengers some trepidation. Our plummet ended a hundred feet above the parking lot of a grocery store.
There were half a dozen cop cars near the front doors and two ambulances were parked near the lot exit.
"Four robbers are holding five people in the office," said Sue, "Negotiations apparently haven't gone well. Should I use stun probes, or do you want to go in?"
"Both," I said. "In fact, I think you should discuss matters with the cops while I go in, since they don't seem to have stun wands here yet. Keep them busy for me."
Joan piped up with, "Aren't you going to let them know you're here? Shouldn't you tell them..."
"Waste of time," I interrupted. "I'll fly in and it'll be over before the head cop can be convinced and get clearance to use me. Sue can tell 'em where to get stun wands."
Standing in the middle of the deck, I said, "Flitter, go visible, please, and soundproof, 'cause the ladies may scream. Five suit on, three suit on, glider on," and with that I launched off the deck toward the store's front doors.
When I turned invisible, someone muttered, "Oh, my God!" and someone else -- Brittany, I think -- yelled, "Oh, Jesus! He's gone!"
I landed ten feet or so from the doors, turned off my glider, and headed for the non-automatic door on the right. It moved at my push and I slipped into the store through as narrow an opening as possible.
One guy in a ski mask was hunkered behind checkout register number four. He stared at the door I'd come through as if trying to decide whether the wind had caused it to open. I sent a tendril to stun him hard and stopped to pick up his gun on my way past the register.
The gun was an inexpensive .380 automatic that didn't fit my hand particularly well, but it was small enough that my three suit's field covered all but the last inch of barrel.
Another ski-masked guy was lurking behind a display of soft drinks, apparently watching the cops to the exclusion of all else, since he hadn't yet noticed his buddy's absence.
I sent a tendril to stun him and found him holding another gun like the one in my hand. After putting both guns in the wastebasket at register seven, I continued toward the rear of the store.
The double doors to the rear storage area by the deli section were open. I stayed close to the wall on general principles as I passed through them looking for the office, which I found to be the second door past the rest rooms.
Two armed guys in ski masks were on their feet and holding guns on three women and two men who were on their knees between a desk and a big metal office safe.
As the guy on his knees cringed away from another of the .380's that was aimed at his head, the guy holding it said, "I ain't tellin' you again, motherfucker. You open that goddamn safe or I blow your goddamn brains out right here and now!"
The man by the safe looked altogether lost and helpless and it seemed likely to me that he flatly didn't know the combination. As if to confirm that, one of the women wailed, "He can't! Don't you understand?! He doesn't know how!"
When the guy with the gun began a hard backhand swipe at her, I stunned him while the gun was pointed at the ceiling. He dropped like a sack of potatoes and the other guy's gun wavered from aiming at another woman's face.
I dropped him, too, then stepped over to pick up both guns and said, "Three suit off."
One woman fainted instantly when I appeared. Everyone else simply stared at me as I called Sue.
"Four baddies down, milady. No casualties. I'm visible, so I'll stay where I am until the cops clear the place. There are two guns in the wastebasket at register seven and the other two will be on the floor here in the office."
As I put the guns in the doorway, she replied, "Okay, Ed."
To the still-shocked people in the room, I said, "We'll all stay put until the cops get here."
A woman in a deli smock said, "Uh... But, I, uh... I really have to go to the bathroom."
Pulling the rolling desk chair around front, I sat down as I said, "No, ma'am. You really have to try to hold it another few minutes 'cause you don't want to get shot by mistake."
Soft shuffling footsteps outside the office announced the cops' arrival. A mirror on a staff extended into the doorway and I said, "All clear. Come on in," to a helmeted reflection.
One of the cops dashed to the other side of the door, used his rifle's muzzle to sweep the handguns out of the doorway and into the corridor, and covered the others as three more of them rushed into the office, surveying the situation over the tops of their gunsights.
Handcuffs were applied to the two baddies on the floor and there was some radio chatter as other small groups checked in from other parts of the store, then somebody called an "all clear" and the cops in the room seemed to relax considerably.
"How'd you get here?" asked the cop in front of me.
"I came on that flitter outside."
"I mean in here, dammit. In the store."
"I walked in, same as you."
He seemed to take a dim view of my answer. A guy in a suit appeared at the door, surveyed matters for a moment, then entered and came toward us as he said, "I'll take him, Bill."
Extending a hand to me, he said, "Ben Geary," and added, "Detective," as if it were an afterthought.
Shaking his hand, I said my name and added, "Civilian."
"Hardly," he replied. "I've been in contact with 3rd World. They confirmed you work for them, but wouldn't tell me what you do, which likely means you're anything but a civilian."
I shrugged. "Oh, well. Sue let you watch through a probe?"
Nodding, he said, "Yes, she did. That's why you aren't under arrest. May I see that wand thing you used on them?"
Handing him my stun wand, I said, "It only works for the owner," as he examined it.
"How does it work?"
Thumbing at the front of the store, I said, "Better ask Sue; she knows more about that stuff. I just use them."
Geary looked at me peeringly for a moment, then said, "You really don't want to discuss much, do you?"
"Not really. I just stopped to help."
"Who are those women with you?"
"Friends. Just along for the ride."
Examining me for a moment, he handed back my wand as he said, "Interesting friends. I'd like a word with them before you leave," then he gestured at the door and said, "Let's go outside."
On the way down the beverage aisle I grabbed six packs of Ice House, canned dr pepper, and canned lemon tea. When we reached the line of registers, I asked the guy who'd been on his knees by the safe if any of the registers were open.
He looked at the drinks I was carrying, laughed, and said, "Just take them, sir. I'll take care of it. Thank you. Thank you very much."
"You sure?"
Laughing again, he said, "Yes, sir. I'm very sure. Don't worry about it."
"Okay, thanks. My cooler was just about dry."
As we walked out to the parking lot, Geary asked, "You got a cooler aboard that thing, huh?"
"Oh, yeah. It's a real party boat."
"Looks like it. Those ladies of yours are some kind of good looking, too. Where'd you find them?"
"Dallas. But they aren't exactly 'my ladies'. Feel free to cast a line or two."
"Lotta good it'll do if they're from Dallas."
Sue was in conference with half a dozen cops to one side of the flitter as we approached. She gave us a smile and a little wave as the image on the field screen in front of her panned the store and followed me to the back.
Someone in the group around the screen called, "Come see this, Ben!" and Geary replied, "Already seen it, Jerry," as he followed me aboard the flitter.
Everyone was standing near the console as we boarded. Except for Tiger, they all seemed to be in various states of anxiety. I set the drinks on the deck and stood up.
Indicating people in turn, I said, "Loren -- the lovely blonde -- and Brittany -- the beautiful brunette -- meet Ben Geary, the detective who wishes you didn't live so far away. Over here we have Joan and Richard, who work for 3rd World. The furry guy on the dash is Tiger."
Tiger said, "Hello, I am Tiger," and Geary stopped in his tracks. He'd been moving to shake hands with the ladies, but now he was staring at Tiger, the ladies forgotten.
The others aboard snickered and giggled as I said, "Say hello, Ben. It's the polite thing to do."
Seeing the others' amusement, Geary asked, "Is this some kind of trick?"
"No, and don't hurt his feelings, please. Say hello."
Geary turned to face Tiger and seemed to have to come to a decision about whether to go along with what he obviously thought was a joke. Tiger stood up and repeated his greeting, his tail switching with amusement at Geary's consternation.
"Hello. I am Tiger."
The mix of cat vocals and the collar's translation seemed to make up Geary's mind. He reached to pet Tiger as he answered, "Hello, Tiger. I'm Ben. You're for real, aren't you?"
Tiger's collar buzzed a translation and Tiger replied, "Yes. I am real. I am Tiger. I talk to people."
He sounded very proud of himself. I asked if anyone wanted a cold drink. Dick asked for a beer, Joan took a dr pepper, and the others opted for tea. I grabbed an Ice House.
"Flitter," I said, "Give us a translucent canopy, please."
A grey shell snapped into being around the flitter. Geary sort of stopped breathing for a moment, then reached to touch it. His hand went through the 'hull' and he drew it back rather hurriedly, then looked at me.
Raising the beer, I said, "Didn't know if we could drink in public here. Now we aren't so public. We can see out, but they can't see in. Back to introductions. You're Ben Geary." Tilting my beer at each person in turn, I said, "She's Loren and she's Brittany. This is Joan and Dick."
Geary seemed slightly dazed as he said, "Nice to meet you all," and chose a seat near Brittany. "Uh, were you ladies involved in what happened as more than passengers?"
"No," said Loren. "We were just along for the ride. Will we have to fill out statements or whatever?"
"Only as witnesses."
Brittany snickered, "Witnesses? To what? We didn't really see anything. We stayed out here."
Shrugging, Geary replied, "Yeah, I know, but we like to be thorough. I'll just take down your ID info and we'll call you if we need you, how's that?"
Loren pulled a business card from her purse, as did Brittany, which they handed to him with their driver's licenses. Geary wrote the info on the backs of the cards and asked for home phone numbers, which they gave, then he handed back their licenses and looked at me. "Now yours?"
I fished out my driver's license and when he asked for my home phone number, I told him to contact 3rd World's legal staff for it.
He looked at me oddly and asked, "Why?"
"Because if you decide you have reason enough to call me back up here, I'll probably need a lawyer. Right?"
"I may need a few more details."
"Uh, huh. There aren't any more details. I went in and zapped them, then told Sue to call you in. That's all there is. You think all this police stuff will take long? I'm supposed to have these ladies back in Dallas shortly."
Staring at me, Ben asked, "Shortly? Dallas is..."
"Dallas is about ten minutes from here in this flitter. The word 'shortly' fits just fine."
He took a moment to wrap his mind around that, then said, "Uh... well... We need the incident report..."
"Sue can stick around to handle that. She can catch up with me later."
With unconcealed surprise, Ben gestured at the deck and asked, "She can catch up with this?"
Nodding, I firmly said, "Yup. No problem."
Shaking his head, Ben said, "But you were the one who went into the store."
I shrugged. "So write it up that way. Say I zapped the bad guys, then left."
"Ah... but... That's not really much of a report."
"Maybe not, but it's what happened and will happen. The incident's over. Joan and Dick need to get back to Carrington and these ladies have to get back to work. Sue?"
She appeared by the console even as she continued with the conference outside. Geary nearly choked on his tea.
Smiling at him, Sue asked, "Yes, Ed?"
"Would you be so kind as to reassure Detective Geary that you can catch up with me later, then make a copy of things that these guys? In a video camera or whatever?"
Looking at Geary, she smilingly said, "No problem."
"Are they showing any interest in stun wands?"
"Oh, yes. More than a little, in fact."
"Good deal. We're about to run off and leave you, ma'am."
Grinning, she said, "Okay, see you later," and vanished.
"Oh, holy shit..!" muttered Geary, switching his gaze to the Sue outside. "I thought..." he looked at me and finished, "I thought she was real!"
Laughing, I said, "She's as real as anyone else, Ben. Just a little different, that's all. You've seen what happened, you'll have a copy for the records, and I can always drop back by if my lawyers okay it. Good enough? We need to get underway."
He looked around the flitter at the others, then at me, seemed to consider things for a second, then got to his feet and said, "Aw, hell. Yeah. Sure. If anyone says anything, I'll just say something happened somewhere else and you had to go. After what happened here tonight, they'll believe it."
We shook hands and he hopped off the flitter, turned and held up his tea as he grinningly said, "Next time you're in town, the drinks are on me," then he headed toward Sue.
"Flitter, let's take Joan and Dick back to their car, please."
The flitter lifted away from the parking lot at about the same speed it had arrived, which didn't allow us much time to notice the reactions of those in the parking lot.
"Ed," said Brittany, "You aren't... whatever Sue is. I want to know how you made yourself disappear."
Shaking my head, I sipped my beer and said, "Nope. You don't work for 3rd World, ma'am."
I reclined my seat and put my feet on the console. Tiger carefully walked down my legs to settle on my lap. I took another sip of beer and rubbed his chin.
"My Tiger," I said.
"My Ed," he replied, rubbing his face on my hand.
Brittany bit her lip and grinned as she said in a slightly choked voice, "Oh, God! That is just so sweet!"
Loren rolled her eyes and snickered.
"WELL?!" asked Brittany, "It IS!"
Quickly patting her hand as if comforting a child, Loren grinningly agreed, "Yes, Britty. It was very cute."
'Britty' gave her a tense look, shook her hand as if to remove cooties, then snootily returned her gaze to Tiger. Loren snickered again, but 'Britty' refused to acknowledge her.
Leaning to shoulder her lightly, Loren grinningly said, "Okay! Okay! You're right, it was cute!"
Relaxing somewhat, Brittany cast a rather skeptical eye at Loren as she brushingly reached across Loren's front to pet Tiger. Little things can mean a lot, sometimes.
Brittany's move wasn't the invasion of space it might have been had she been sitting next to Joan or Dick, who likely would have sat bolt upright.
Loren remained as she was, slightly inclined, her breasts in firm contact with Brittany's shoulder. Her nostrils flared slightly and she seemed to take a quiet whiff of Brittany's hair before she stiffened slightly and looked at me.
I shrugged a tiny shrug and sipped my beer, then looked at 'Britty', who was scuffling Tiger's upraised cheeks and bathing him in 'good-little-itty-bitty-kitty'-type blather. She glanced up at me and smiled, then sat back upright, apparently completely unaware of the galvanizing effect she'd had on Loren.
Hm. Maybe she really didn't know? Maybe Loren hadn't let her know yet? I glanced at Loren, whose eyes narrowed to slits for a moment as she grimaced slightly with gritted teeth. Ah-hah. Okay, then. Brittany didn't know. You got it, ma'am.
Sipping my beer, I let my gaze sweep Joan and Dick. They'd apparently been more interested in the scenery below the flitter. Dick pointed at something and Joan looked that direction as he said we must be getting close.
In fact, we were getting close; our descent had begun a few moments earlier. Another plummeting subsonic dive later, we hovered just above the restaurant's parking lot next to a green car Joan said was hers. Dick said nothing about the white car parked next to it, but it seemed likely to be his.
After a round of goodbyes, they disembarked and headed for their cars, but Joan stopped after a few paces and turned to face us as she spoke.
"I guess we'll have to make some kind of report to someone tomorrow, won't we?"
Laughing, I said, "Yeah, prob'ly so. Stuff happened that'll make the papers."
"What about you?"
"I don't talk to reporters."
Giving me an exasperated roll of her eyes and a sighing slouch, she replied, "I meant... uhm... will you be back here tomorrow? At Carrington, I mean?"
Wexler had stopped, too. He seemed to be wondering why she was asking me such questions in those tentative tones and showed slight signs of alarm.
"Doubtful," I said, "I usually just call things in unless something special happens."
Looking moderately incredulous, she asked, "Everything that happened this evening wasn't special?"
Shrugging, I said, "Well, I guess we'll know that if they call me back up here tomorrow, won't we?" Waving to both of them, I said, "Bye, all. Gotta get these ladies back to Dallas. Flitter, it's time to leave. Back to Nick's."
The flitter rose quickly into the night sky as I returned to my seat and flipped open the lid of the cooler by the console. Loren and Brittany stared hard at the layer of ice that seemed to be suspended in mid-air.
I began stuffing drink bottles and cans into the ice as I explained, "You can't see the cooler because there's a field around it that bends light. Either of you want another drink?"
Loren took her eyes off the airborne ice and answered, "Uh, no, thanks. In fact, I was wondering where to put this." She held up her tea can.
"Just toss it over the side."
Giving me a somewhat insulted look, she said, "I don't think so. There's enough trash lying around."
There were only a couple of swallows left of my beer, so I tossed the bottle at the flitter's field perimeter. Both ladies freaked and shrieked at the soundless plasma blast and Loren instinctively pulled Brittany away from the explosion.
Brittany's right breast appeared to be trying to escape her low-cut dress and both women were showing a great deal of leg. I saw no reason not to enjoy the view.
When they looked rather starkly at me, I said, "That's why there's no trashbag," and opened another beer.
Brittany realized she was almost lying in Loren's lap and tapped Loren's arm to make her let go. Loren released her and she sat up, adjusting her dress. Loren did the same.
"Was that really necessary?" asked Loren.
"Maybe not, but you were pretty entertaining." Shrugging, I added, "You'd be pretty if you weren't entertaining, too, of course. That's a definite given. How many of the reporters are still waiting for us? We'll be a little late."
Glancing at Loren, Brittany said, "I guess we'll find out. At least we have something to tell them now. What are you going to do when we get back to Dallas?"
"Probably head on back to Florida."
Loren asked, "Only 'probably'?"
Shrugging, I replied, "Got a better idea? I'm open."
They seemed to give matters some thought, then Loren said, "We can check in with Debbie and bring the media people into the lounge for questions. By then it'll be close enough to closing time... No. Damn. It's Wednesday. Davis'll need me on the books until well after ten."
Brittany said, "You could at least come in for a beer and a snack. We don't close until nine."
I shook my head. "No, the place'll be full of reporters who'd be of far more benefit to you. How about we make it another night? Or even a day? We can go to a beach or something."
Looking at Loren, Brittany said, "I haven't been to a beach in ages, Loren. That sounds good. Real good."
"Suits me. It can't happen for another two weeks, though. Mind if we bring a couple of guys along?"
Reflecting her question back at her, I asked, "Mind if I bring a couple of girls?"
Looking around, Loren said, "There are only six seats."
"No problem. We'll make the guys bring lawn chairs or sit on the deck."
"Who are the girls you're referring to?"
"Who are the guys you're referring to?"
Loren sat back and regarded me thoughtfully for a few seconds, then smiled and said, "This isn't how it usually goes, you know. We don't usually have to do much more than bat our eyes at a guy to get our way."
"There's no doubt in my little mind about that, ma'am."
"So why aren't you like them? I've seen you leering at us, and you couldn't have invited us to a beach without realizing it would mean seeing us in bathing suits."
"Seeing and having are two different things. The ladies I'll bring have been with me for a quite a while. What are the guys to you? Boyfriends?"
"Wait a minute," said Brittany, "Are you telling us you have two girlfriends?"
"Yup. They'd be together anyway, though." Leaning closer, I said in a conspiratorial whisper, "Sometimes I think they just keep me around to scratch certain itches, you know?"
Tiger -- the owner of a permanent fur coat -- knew full well about itches. He hopped down to the seat beside mine and firmly said, "Selena and Toni do not itch."
The ladies snickered as I sighed. How could I explain that sort of a metaphor to a cat?
"Tiger, that was just a way of saying we play together."
He looked steadily at me as his collar translated, then replied, "Why not say you play? Why a... metafur."
"Metaphor. It's just the way people talk sometimes, when they're being careful with each other."
Looking studiously at me, then the ladies, he said, "Doing nothing. Why careful?" then he hopped back up to the dash and watched the sky ahead for a moment before asking, "Will we go home soon?"
"Sure," I said. "Home soon."
"Good." He turned back to watching the sky.
Loren said, "I still can't get over a talking cat."
She named a date two weeks ahead and asked me if it would do for a day at a beach.
"As far as I know, it will. I'll check with my friends."
"Same here," she said, as Dallas began to be identifiable below us.
We watched the city rise to meet us and saw that the street outside Nick's -- while a bit more organized than before -- was still well-stocked with press vehicles and a few police cars.
"Your public awaits," I said as we settled between buildings to hover above the street in front of the restaurant's doors. "I suggest that we stay aboard a few minutes and just hang here to let them get organized."
Both ladies nodded. "Good idea," said Brittany.
"Flitter," I said, "Use your excited squid display for a full minute, please."
Snorting a laugh, Loren asked, "Excited squid...?" then muttered, "Oh, my God!" as our hull seemed to erupt with vibrantly bright, moving colors.
"It's your grand entrance," I said, "I guess I could toss in the theme music from 'Rocky' if you want."
Staring gapingly at our canopy, Brittany mumbled, "Ah... no, that's, uh... all right. This is... uh, fine. Jesus!"
Tiger asked, "What is a squid?"
I called up a field screen and showed him a squid. He seemed altogether unimpressed with the creature.
Loren, on the other hand, seemed very impressed with the field screen. She tried to reach for the screen and put her hand through it, looked up at me with wide eyes, then looked at Brittany, who was in about the same state.
Looking outside at the quickly-assembling herd of press and media people, I changed the squid picture to a mirror and suggested that there was time to primp.
The ladies saw themselves, glanced at the crowd, and immediately opened their purses to touch themselves up. As soon as they'd finished, I turned off the screen.
"Well, this is it," said Brittany, checking her dress and leaning to kiss my cheek, "It's showtime. You have our cards?"
"Sure do."
"Good. Call ahead if you can get up here in the next two weeks. If you can't call, we'll feed you at the very least."
"Right," said Loren. "And if you're up this way when we can get time off, maybe we'll try a few clubs."
"Thanks. Sounds great."
Loren also kissed my cheek, then turned to face the crowd and said, "Ready."
"Flitter," I said, "Translucent field, please. Soundproof," and hopped to the ground to offer each woman a hand.
The view was fairly spectacular as both women necessarily showed a considerable amount of leg stepping down. Cameras flashed from the moment the flitter's field became translucent, of course, and more flashed when the ladies stepped to the ground. I hopped back aboard the flitter.
"Go get 'em, ladies," I said.
They both grinned up at me and started forward into the crowd. A few of the newsies tried to approach the flitter and were stopped at the barrier.
They clamored silently and cameras flashed incessantly. Tiger growled and looked away. When the ladies were safely on the sidewalk, I told the flitter to take us home and we lifted out of the man-made canyon of the street.
As we rose above Dallas, the console chimed and Linda's ID code showed in the bottom right corner.
I keyed the screen on and said, "Hi, Linda."
She looked as if she'd been home for a while. A few hairs were out of place and she wore no lipstick.
Tiger heard me say 'Linda' and her voice and hopped down to sit in my lap as he greeted her with, "Hello, Linda! Hello!"
"Hello, Tiger!" she grinningly answered. "Hi, Ed. We've been following your exploits this evening."
"We, huh? As in you and that sailor guy or you and the commo crew?"
Emory Wallace stepped into view and gave me a fatuous smile as he put his hands on Linda's shoulders in a possessive manner and said, "Hi, Ed."
Looking up at me, Tiger said, "He said no 'hello' to me, but I am here."
Rolling his eyes, Wallace said, "Sorry. Hello, Tiger."
"Hello!" Tiger responded instantly. That appeared to be all he had to say, but he seemed satisfied to have said it.
I shook my head slightly and said, "Well, I guess that's it. Hi, Emory. Are you afraid she'll float out of that chair?"
To forestall his answer and possibly a situation, Linda said, "Phil Cartwright of the Dallas office got wind of your visit and sent us a live feed of your return. You certainly know how to make an entrance, don't you?"
"It seemed like the thing to do at the time, milady. Did Emory's tongue hang out when he saw my passengers?"
Shrugging, she said, "He managed not to drool, so I didn't say anything. Most of the commo crew was suitably impressed, too. Expect some comments the next time you're up here."
"Next time out I'll sell tickets. They're both struggling models, y'know. The money might come in handy. How did the Sioux City cops handle everything? Will I have to go back?"
"We're still sorting matters from the Sioux City incident, but all seems to be in order -- or enough so -- for now, at least. Do you have anything to add?"
"Nope. It was all recorded. If Sue rustled up any new stun wand customers, you'll hear about it."
"Oh, we already have and she has. Sue says the Sioux City PD looks good for a hundred or more right away. Where are you off to now?"
"Well, Tiger's ready to go home."
"Yes," said Tiger, in a definite tone, "Home."
Wallace looked as if he had something to say, but couldn't quite make the words happen. I wondered only briefly whether I cared what those words might be. He had his hands on my boss and longtime friend, and that bugged me.
"Nothing else to report," I said.
Linda's left eyebrow went up slightly, but she nodded.
"Okay. Well, it's been a long day. Goodnight, Ed."
"Goodnight, Linda."
Hurriedly reaching to still her hand on its way to her screen, Wallace gave Linda an odd glance and me a direct gaze, then said, "I just wanted to say... that was good work today, Ed."
His rushed remark was kind of a surprise, I guess; for Linda and me both. We didn't bother much with backpatting.
I responded, "Thanks, Emory," as Linda glanced up at him with another raised eyebrow.
Turning back to me, she said, "Later, Ed."
Still looking thoughtful, she poked her 'off' icon. I did the same and sat looking at the blank screen for a time. Yup. It still bugged the hell out of me that she'd gotten involved with a brass-hat control freak like Wallace, but he seemed to suit her well enough. They were still together, at any rate.
What was that last bit about? He knew Linda and I didn't...
Sue appeared in the seat next to mine and Tiger greeted her with a 'hello'. She returned his greeting and rubbed his chin and ears.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi. You seem a little down."
Shrugging slighty, I replied, "I'll survive."
"Want to talk about it?"
"No point. It's the Linda-Wallace thing. Same old gripe. I guess some opposites really do attract."
Giving me an odd look and a small smile, Sue said nothing as Tiger turned his other cheek for further attention.
"What?" I asked. "I know I'm ignoring the obvious."
With a snicker, Sue asked, "Do you?"
I sighed and put my feet up on the console as I watched the pattern of lights below us. I knew the patterns well enough after several trips to recognize Alexandria, Louisiana just to the south of us and the Baton Rouge-New Orleans blobs of lights to the southeast. In a couple of minutes we'd cross I-10 at the Mississippi-Alabama line and be over the Gulf of Mexico until we reached Florida.
"Yeah," I said, "They're more alike than I want to admit. I've seen and experienced how Linda runs her world. The only thing missing is the uniform. That's why we never lasted."
If I hadn't been looking directly at the string of lights that ran along the coastline, I might have missed the brief burst of light near a sizeable dark area.
Since the only sizeable dark areas along a coastline are likely to be lakes or bays, it seemed to me that the burst of light had to have happened on a bridge.
"Flitter, stop our forward motion and take us down to one thousand feet. What caused that burst of light?"
As the lights below rushed up at us, the flitter answered, "The burst of light was caused by an explosion."
Well, duuuhh...
Sue snickered as I said, "Computers, huh? Flitter, try to be more specific and take us to the scene," and looked around.
An airport to the west. No, those were military jets. Had to be Keesler AFB because the nearby bridge wasn't just one bridge; there were two long bridges, running side-by-side. Interstate... whatthehell was it here? I-110. Yeah. Not far away, the old, single-road bridge still spanned the bay.
The flitter said, "It appears that a pickup truck collided with the cab of a tanker truck containing diesel fuel. The explosion occurred when the gasoline tank of the pickup truck ruptured during the collision. The fuel tank on the left side of the tanker also ruptured. I am smothering the fire."
"Thank you," I replied. Turning to Sue, I said, "Sue," but she'd already disappeared from the seat next to mine.
As an unseen field blanketed the fire and smothered it out of existence, Sue said through my implant, "The pickup driver is dead. The tanker driver is alive, but injured and unconscious. I'll begin treatment and remove both of them to the flitter."
"Unless the guy needs airlifted immediately, just field them to the side of the road and work on him there. Flitter, go visible with an opaque, neon red field, set us down a hundred feet behind the wreck, and put me in contact with the nearest fire department through my implant, please."
I heard the usual phone sounds of dialing and receiver pickup and a woman answered.
"Hi, there," I said, "I'm at the south end of the northbound I-110 bridge and I'm calling to report a wreck."
"Sir, someone's already notified us about the accident. Fire and police units are on their way."
"Great. The fire's out. One driver's dead and one's injured, and he's being treated. I've put the fire out and blocked the road behind the wreck with my flitter and..."
"Your what?" she interrupted again.
"My flitter. The fire's out. We'll take care of things until you get here. That's all, pass it on. Goodbye."
Keying off the connection, I called Sue as I stepped off the flitter onto the shoulder of the road and walked toward her.
"As soon as the fire department takes over the scene, I'm gonna hit the road, Sue. You can stay and chat if you want."
About fifty feet from the wreck, both of the men lay prone a few feet above the ground in a grey translucent field that surrounded and supported them.
One guy -- the one who wasn't breathing -- was a charred, bloody mess. His left front temple had been crushed inward, so it seemed likely he hadn't been conscious after the impact.
The other guy was missing some hair and his shirt, which was lying across his legs. Sue had cleaned his head wound -- likely from slamming against the cab door's window -- and was using fields to control bleeding.
I heard sirens in the distance and saw emergency vehicles taking the Interstate on-ramp about a mile away. The cops got to the scene first, of course, probably because the firetrucks had been told to hang back until someone okayed matters.
Two cop cars eased past the red-pulsing flitter and came to a stop near us. A cop in the lead car used his radio for some moments, then nodded as if whomever he was talking to could see him and opened his car door. The other cops also got out of their cars and cautiously started toward Sue and me.
"Flitter," I said, when they were close enough to hear me, "Remain opaque, but cancel the red glow. We don't need it now that the cavalry's here."
The flitter instantly appeared to have a stainless steel hull that gleamed in the headlights and reflected the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles some distance away.
That startled the hell out of both cops, but they continued toward us, staring hard at the flitter, the two guys hanging in the air, and the smoking, steaming wreck.
"These guys need a hospital," I said, "One's alive and one's dead. There's no risk of fire while my flitter's here."
Looking at me, the lead cop took in my golf shoes, jeans, and green shirt, then met my gaze as if to determine the truth of my words.
He told the others to check out Sue and the 'flying guys', reached for his epaulet mike and told someone to send up the fire department, then asked me, "Who are you and what's your part in all this?"
I handed him my driver's license and thumbed at the flitter as I said, "That's my flitter. We saw a flash. The flitter said it was a wreck, so we came down to help."
Giving me an odd look, he glanced at the flitter and asked, "The flitter said it was a wreck?"
With a small nod, I said, "Yup."
A firetruck separated from the herd of official vehicles behind the flitter and advanced with visible caution. When it stopped, several guys got off and started examining the wreck as two of them came to check out Sue's patients.
One of the firemen used his radio and a pair of ambulances joined the firetruck. Before the medics could get out of their vehicles, the two crash victims began floating toward the ambulances, accompanied by Sue, the firemen, and cops.
An unmarked car stopped just beyond the flitter and the driver got out, watched the two bodies float over to the ambulances, then motioned for us to come to his car.
When we got there, the uniformed cop handed him my license and said, "He says that's his flitter and it told him there was a wreck, so they came down to help."
"That's right," I said. "We put out the fire, blocked the road, and Sue took care of the drivers 'till you guys got here."
Glancing at my license, the new guy asked, "Mind if I ask why you were flying over this particular area?"
"We were on our way home from Dallas. This place is on a straight line from Dallas to my house in Florida."
"Uh, huh." He looked at my license again, then eyed the flitter and asked, "How high up were you?"
"Forty thousand feet."
He tried to appear impassive and failed. "Uh, huh. How fast were you going?"
"I'd rather not say."
The guy's gaze narrowed. "I'd rather you did."
"Okay. Very fast. Jet plane fast."
"Could you be more specific?"
"You'll have to ask my boss. Sorry."
"Your boss? Is that her?" He thumbed at Sue.
"No. My boss is at 3rd World headquarters."
The other cop said, "Keesler Air Force Base is real close by. Is there any chance you weren't really quite that high up, and that maybe one of those guys saw you in that thing? Maybe that's what caused the crash?"
I looked right at him and let him see my irritation as I asked, "You wanna see what that flitter looks like when it's flying? Take a good look, dude. Flitter, go to flight mode."
The flitter instantly vanished as its stealth mode routed all light around it. Both men wore mouth-open, wide-eyed stares and the uniformed cop muttered, "Holy shit..! It's gone!"
"No it isn't. Flitter, return to previous mode, please."
It reappeared just as instantly with the gleaming opaque field. Both men instinctively flinched back a step from the flitter's looming silvery 'hull'.
"Oh, holy shit..." muttered the uniformed cop again.
Sue stepped away from the ambulances as they began backing away from the wreck site, turned around, turned on their sirens, and headed back the way they'd come.
A couple of cop cars acted as escorts to get them through the herd of cars that was forming behind the parked cop cars.
The firemen had sprayed foam on the wreck, likely on general principles. Another firetruck rolled up behind the first one and more firemen got off. Sue said something to the fireman who stood near her.
He answered. She vanished. The guy looked absolutely dumbstruck, even at that distance. Sue materialized beside me and the guy holding my license dropped it without appearing to realize he'd done so.
I sent a field tendril to conceal and pick up my license as Sue smiled and said, "Hello," to the two men.
"All finished?" I asked her.
She nodded. "All finished. They can take it from here."
"Want to stick around and talk to them about fire suppression fields?"
"No need. I gave them 3rd World's contact info. One man said he'd briefly seen some printed materials, but that he'd been told that the videotape that came with them had been lost. I imprinted one of their blank videocassettes with footage of this fire's suppression by the flitter's field. He rather adamantly declared that this footage wouldn't get lost."
"Sounds as if you impressed him, milady." Turning to the cops, I said, "We'll say goodnight, then. Three suit on."
Sue vanished when I did. Both cops looked somewhat stunned for a second, then they began looking around for us. We quietly walked to the flitter and Sue graciously allowed me to hand her up and aboard.
Tiger stood on the console dash as we boarded. He hopped down to a seat as Sue and I sat down, then stepped into my lap and looked up at me.
"Very bright lights. Too many. We go home now?"
"Yes," I said, rubbing his ears, "We go home now. Flitter, lift us to five hundred feet and hold us there for ten seconds, then take us to my house, please."
The flitter responded by aiming itself at Florida as it raised us nearly instantly to five hundred feet.
"Why a ten second delay?" asked Sue.
"To give 'em a good look at their future."
When the ten seconds ended, the flitter's hull disappeared as it went to stealth mode, then it launched us into the night sky toward Florida.
End 3WP05
Book Information
This book Copyright © 2004 by Ed Howdershelt. All rights reserved.
CAUTION: Some tasteful erotica late in the story.
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