Book 3: 3rd World Products, Inc Read online




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  Abintra Press

  www.abintrapress.tripod.com

  Copyright ©2003 by Ed Howdershelt

  First published via Abintra Press

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  Note: I'm not going to re-introduce all my characters.

  Read 3WP-Books I & II before starting Book III.

  Chapter One

  When Selena comes to my house in Spring Hill, she's usually in need of some time away from her own world. I can understand that, because other than visiting to see her, it's the reason I spend most weekends at her house.

  Sometimes she announces her intention to visit and sometimes she just shows up on a weekday. That's how I can tell how stressed she is. If she shows up without calling ahead, she's been pushed to within sight of her limits for the moment and needs a break, so she goes where the service is good and the phone won't ring for her. My place.

  If she calls ahead, she'll usually be on her way to or from Tampa and wanting to see if I have plans for lunch or dinner. I'll never tell her how many times I've changed other plans in favor of being available for her. Her ego is big enough already.

  Wednesday morning she showed up unannounced in shorts and a sweatshirt around eight and rather irritatedly said that her Tampa class for that week had been cancelled and that nobody had thought to tell her or anyone else not to be there.

  "So I don't have to be anywhere until one,” she added. “And that's old man Leet's class in economics.” She shuddered at the thought. “Bor-ing. Where's Steph?"

  "Don't know. She's been keeping herself busy lately with some kind of hobby."

  "She hasn't told you what she's doing?"

  "She doesn't want me talking about it unless it works out."

  Tiger came in from the screen porch and hopped up to Selena's lap as Elkor's field-generated faux feline jumped onto the coffee table and sat down. As she ruffled and petted Tiger, Elkor said, “Hello, Selena."

  "Hi, Elkor.” She looked closely at Elkor's fake fur and said, “That looks so real."

  "Thank you. Tiger disagrees, but he accepts the effort."

  "Well, how very damned magnanimous of him. Wow, Ed. Hanging out with you and Elkor has turned ol’ Tiger into a real lap-cat, hasn't it? I remember when he'd tear your hand off if you tried to touch him."

  "After about a week, he'd fully realized that food and safety were no longer survival issues. Elkor says he still has bad dreams, though. He was in the dumpster when his mother and brother were crushed by that crate. The poor little guy was afraid to stay and afraid to leave and he couldn't wake his mother up. He was in the dumpster from just after dawn until just before I found him. When he'd managed to get out, he had to try to hide from a big-assed rat. Then I grabbed the bag he was hiding in. He thought he was gonna be somebody's lunch for sure."

  "Jesus,” said Selena. “I'm surprised that he's adjusted as well as he has."

  Tiger said something and Elkor translated.

  "Tiger would like to know why Selena has become so attentive, Ed. I hesitate to make any reference to the day you found him. What should I tell him?"

  "Just tell him that Selena is very happy that he's become such a beautiful, friendly person, Elkor. Tell him that she likes holding him very much."

  "Yes, Ed."

  Elkor passed my words to Tiger and Tiger looked up at Selena. She smiled and nodded and said, “That's absolutely right, Tiger,” as she gathered him into a hug.

  After getting a canned tea from the fridge, spending some time with Tiger and Elkor, and chatting a bit about a couple of teachers who leaned unnecessarily hard on their students, she stretched out on the couch and opened one of her textbooks. Elkor and Tiger went back to the porch and I got up to go to work on some web pages.

  "Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, taking something from her shirt pocket and handing it to me. “They're grape seeds. The big blue kind and the little red ones."

  Selena had given me a small zip-lock baggie full of grape seeds. I like grapes, but I don't know a damned thing about planting the seeds or caring for the plants.

  "I like seeds,” she said. “They're like little packets of energy, just waiting for the right time and place to explode into a whole new plant."

  Hefting the fat little baggie, I asked, “Did you save some for yourself?"

  "They'd take too much maintenance for me,” she said, turning the page of her Business Administration book, “I'm too damned busy all the time, what with school and work. But you have the time, don't you? I mean, you're retired, so you have time for a little gardening, don't you?"

  Truth one: Yeah. I had the time. I even had some interest.

  Truth two: Something about her automatic assumption that 'I'd have the time' irritated me a bit.

  "Well, gee, ma'am, I just don't know,” I said. “Things have been pretty hectic here at the old folks’ home lately. Maybe we could just buy grapes like everyone else?"

  Selena looked up from her book, then her startled gaze locked on me.

  "I didn't mean...” she began, then she shook her head and said, “No, I guess I did. I'm sorry, Ed. I wasn't thinking."

  I shrugged and said, “Ah, what the hell. You're right. I either have time or I can make some. That's part of what being retired is about, I guess. I just never really wanted to spend my spare time gardening."

  Selena sat up and said, “Then don't. It was just a thoughtless suggestion, anyway. I can give the seeds to someone else."

  I set the baggie on the coffee table and looked around the back yard speculatively, then said, “Tell you what ... I'll plant them along the fence and see how they do on their own. If we're meant to have grapes from these seeds, they'll grow, and if I see anything later that looks like a vine, I'll even be careful with the lawn mower."

  Selena's concerned expression became a grin. She stretched rather gloriously, lay back on the couch, and softly said, “I'll let you feed them to me in bed, mister."

  As if I hadn't heard her, I said, “You know, I guess I could maybe spring for some plant food to help get things started. Wouldn't hurt."

  Lifting one leg to point her toes at the ceiling and examining the leg in an unnecessarily meticulous manner, she said, “I'd feed you grapes in bed, too."

  Gazing rapturously at Sel's leg, I said, “Hey, I might even look up grape-growing on the net and do some weeding and watering now and then."

  "You're so easy,” she said. “I ought to have you move in with me. I wouldn't have to pay the lawn service."

  Fact: We'd discussed the idea of moving in together a few times. There always seemed to be several good reasons not to do that. I went to the couch and ran a finger from her ankle to her knee.

  "You'd supply the tools and pay the gas, right? Room and board and fifty bucks a month, too?"

  The leg folded instantly and looked just as good to me that way.

  "Hell no,” Sel said with a giggle, “I'm just a poor student, mister. What you see is all you get."

  "Mmm. Well, ma'am, I just can't do that at this time. I guess we're stuck with the grape deal for now. Wanna seal it with a kiss?"

  Selena did manage to get in a couple of hours of study time before she left for Gainesville and I stepped into the back yard to decide where to plant grapes. Some moments later, my comm implant tingled slightly just before El
kor said, “Linda would like a word with you, Ed."

  "Thanks, Elkor. Patch her into the link, please."

  Elkor said, “Go ahead, Linda."

  Linda said, “Thanks, Elkor. Ed, you're on standby alert as of now."

  Big deal. In our line of work, we were never really not on standby.

  "What's up?” I asked.

  "We've received information that 'One Earth' may try something during the personnel rotations, so we're putting everybody available on standby."

  "Linda, we've rotated factory personnel four times a year for two years. Why this one?"

  "We don't know. Maybe they didn't feel capable until now. At any rate, you're one of our most mobile people, so you're going to be one of the floaters."

  "One of? That means you've finally assigned the other two flitters to people?"

  "We have. Scott and Luann have been drilling with them for two weeks."

  "Drilling? You make getting to know a flitter sound like loads of fun, ma'am."

  Linda sighed and said, “Bear in mind that those flitters have normal cores, Ed. If you want them to do something, you have to be specific, and there are things that their programming won't let them do, so the pilots have to know their limitations."

  "You sound as if you think that Steph and I can work outside those rules, Linda. Getting her a larger core didn't change anything in that realm. We can't."

  "Have you tried?"

  "Do you even have to ask? Remember when she wouldn't open the station bay doors for fear of harming people who only may have been inside?"

  "But you got in, didn't you? You forced her to choose, and she did."

  "Read the report again. Talk to her. Anything else?"

  "No. Just be ready to go if we need you."

  "Always am."

  "Later, then.” She disconnected the link.

  As I used my field implant to winnow a row of little holes in the soil along the fence, I thought about the ‘One Earth’ group. Unless they'd come a hell of a long way up the ladders of technological and organizational evolution since their formation, they were unable to field anything more dangerous than military surplus weaponry. That meant that they'd have to be up to something fairly devious, because weapons like theirs wouldn't be any kind of match for Amaran technology.

  I dropped a seed in each of the holes along the fence and kicked dirt over them, then used the toe of my sneaker to pack the dirt and thought some more. One Earth had been formed from a variety of disparate hate groups who still hated each other, but hated the Amarans more.

  Individually, none of them had ever been more than a dangerous annoyance to anyone. Together they were no more or less obnoxious or dangerous than before, only bigger. Given previous capabilities, the only way that One Earth could effectively attack the Carrington base would involve sabotage; someone on the inside or a special delivery of some sort. Linda wouldn't need me or the other flitter drivers to deal with such attacks, so she apparently had some other worry in mind.

  "Elkor, I need an update. How well-armed are the One Earthers these days? What's the worst that anyone thinks they can realistically come up with?"

  "Two members of Congress believe that the One Earth movement may currently possess a nuclear device,” said Elkor. “The One Earth leaders neither confirm nor deny that speculation. Otherwise, they appear to be limited to conventional armaments."

  "Which states do those Congressmen represent?"

  "Wyoming and Idaho."

  "Do they usually ask for money when they mention One Earth?"

  "In almost all instances they request federal funds to be used in thwarting One Earth and similar organizations."

  "Uh, huh. That lets them out as credible sources unless they have proof. Have they presented any solid evidence that One Earth has a nuke?"

  "No, Ed. They continue to merely suggest and speculate extensively."

  "Thought so. Elkor, pretend you're One Earth and try to figure out two things: How to do the most damage to the factory operation with the tools and people known to be available to them and how to deliver the means of causing that damage."

  "Shall I present you with the several scenarios that appealed most to Linda and her security staff?"

  It didn't surprise me that Linda had already involved the most powerful computer on Earth in defensive speculations.

  "Yes,” I said. “But let's go over the known components first. Weapons, transportation possibilities, skills available among their members, and so on. I'm betting that One Earth is fairly well-equipped and has some seriously-trained people on tap, but if they have any nuke or bioweapon people, that's where I'd look first. I can't envision a conventional attack on the base being successful."

  "You and Linda appear to think along similar lines,” said Elkor. “That's almost precisely what she suggested. I'll begin with my report to her. Of known personnel, only one is known to have been employed in the nuclear industries. He was fired from a janitorial position seven months ago. Two One Earth members have been employed as laboratory workers in biotechnical fields involving research. Both called in sick two months ago and apparently disappeared."

  "Did they quit on or near a payday?"

  "No. In fact, they left in the middle of a pay period. Their last paychecks were discovered among other mail when police investigated missing persons reports."

  "Who filed the reports and when? And what reasons were given?"

  "Both reports were filed by their employers four days after the missing workers called in sick because neither worker could be contacted."

  "Elkor, the employers probably wouldn't have filed missing persons reports based on absenteeism alone, and the cops might have sent someone around to see if those guys were alive, but they probably wouldn't have begun a real investigation without more reason. Did somebody prod them a little?"

  "Both workers were known to be members of One Earth, Ed. Their actions had been under loose surveillance for several months by federal agencies. Local police were used to avoid revealing the ongoing federal surveillance efforts."

  I laughed. “If the guys managed to make themselves disappear, what the hell are the feds 'surveilling'? Empty apartments?"

  Elkor said, “It would seem so, although several agencies are making other efforts to find the missing workers."

  "Maybe they'll think to look in Idaho and Wyoming,” I said. “Oh, well, I'm going to clean up a bit and get those web pages finished today."

  Chapter Two

  When the woman at the party in Tampa—Lynn Harper—had suggested using a flitter to search for sunken treasure, Steph had been inspired by the idea of finding things lost in the sea. She spent quite a bit of time scanning the Atlantic seabed while I attended a new-age giftware show in Orlando.

  The show had been over for three days before Stephie had found her first artifacts; a few silver coins and some frail, rusty iron fittings that divers had missed near a wreck that had already been salvaged. She brought the stuff home and we spread it out on the kitchen floor so I could take pictures of it with my old 35mm Nikon.

  Steph asked, “Ed, why are you using that kind of camera to take pictures?"

  I had to stop and think. “Habit, I guess. I hauled this camera all over Europe, Steph. When it's time to take pictures, it's the first thing I think of. Does it matter?"

  "No, but it seemed odd, since I can produce any pictures you may want."

  I shrugged and clicked the last two frames of the roll, then asked, “Got any idea why it took so long to find this stuff, ma'am?"

  Steph's Ingrid Bergman-like hologram appeared on the other side of the little pile from me and said, “It just did, Ed. These items were in the 127th grid. The ocean certainly seems a lot bigger when I'm searching the bottom of it. I appear to have been expecting quicker results."

  Admiring the lines of her latest emerald green jacket and skirt “ensemble", I said, “Wow. Nice outfit, miLady. That's how it is when you're searching for things, Steph. The stuff will pr
obably never be exactly where you think it should be, and the longer you search, the bigger the job will seem. Are you going to continue searching?"

  "I don't know yet. I'd like to, I think, if only to have something of interest to report to my other self aboard the factory, and it isn't as if I have an otherwise full daily schedule Earthside. Do you think it's worthwhile?"

  "It is if it interests you. Are a few coins enough to make you keep looking for more? You might find other things of interest, too. A lot of ships and boats have gone down around Florida and in the Carribbean. 'An otherwise full schedule,' huh? Are you hinting—yet again—that I don't make enough use of you?"

  "Well, I suppose that you could construe that portion of my remark in that way if you tried hard enough."

  "Uh, huh. Okay, how about I drop everything and we go for a ride, Steph?"

  "That shouldn't be too difficult, Ed. You aren't doing anything at the moment."

  "That's beside the point, and I have to get your stuff off the kitchen floor, so just give me a minute or two to saddle up, lady. You didn't answer my previous question. Do you really want to continue looking for treasure?"

  A human might have paused for thought in some obvious manner for a few moments, if only to appear to be considering the matter. I'd gotten used to Elkor's and Steph's apparently instantaneous decision making, so it didn't surprise me when she instantly responded, “Yes. I'd like to continue."

  "Good enough, then. Read up on the subject of sunken ships before you go looking again, though. It may save you some time."

  "What makes you think that I haven't already studied the matter?"

  "If you had, you wouldn't have spent so much time looking where you did. Ships that draw more than a few feet like deeper water for the most part, and rumor has it that most of the Spanish ships went down in storms, not from running aground."

  Steph said, “I hadn't considered the possible reasons for their sinkings. I simply began scanning the seabed. Ed, why didn't it occur to me to wonder why they sank?"

  "You would have, sooner or later. Anyone as new to the world as you are might have done the same, Steph."