Book 4: 3rd World Products, Inc. Read online

  Through my implant, Steph said, “Readings indicate that Linda's telling the truth, Ed.” I nodded receipt of the info.

  "Wait, please,” said Mills. “You have five teams, not four."

  Linda shook her head. “Group One isn't a training group, Dr. Mills. If you were volunteering for a critical slot instead of just additional training and experience I could override the others, but as things are I can't simply drop you on a team without risking having to explain the decision in a formal hearing. I'm sorry, but I've done all I can to facilitate your request for this training cycle."

  Mills looked stricken and a bit stunned as she settled back into her chair. When her eyes met mine, Mills seemed on the verge of tears, and I suddenly wondered why flitter ops were so damned important to her. I turned to look at Linda.

  "Linda,” I said, “Flitter ops only, right? No forty-seven bits of equipment, no weapons, no paramilitary protocols, no gig lines on uniforms, and all that?"

  Shrugging, Linda said, “Right. She can pick up the rest of it elsewhere. She'd have to, anyway, for all you know about wearing uniforms these days."

  "Okay, then. She can have the guest bedroom for a week."

  Mills looked startled. “A what? A guest bedroom? You mean at your house?"

  "Yeah,” I said. “You'll come back certified to fly a flitter, if nothing else."

  She glanced at Linda, who continued petting Tiger as she met Mills’ gaze, then Mills turned back to me.

  "Just what, exactly, do you mean by ‘if nothing else'?"

  I looked at Mills and sighed. “Weren't you listening when I mentioned equipment, uniforms, and protocols? I don't wear the uniforms and don't haul equipment and I don't like to salute people I don't know."

  Linda snickered softly. Mills glanced at her, then returned her gaze to me.

  Fielding a cup from the countertop rack to the coffee pot and sending a separate field tendril to push the spout lever down, I said, “Fact is, I'd let Steph handle most of your training if she doesn't mind. She seems to have a lot more patience than me. Don't worry, doc, it'll only take a week or so and you won't be expected to sleep with me or wear lingerie around the house."

  Mills bridled and glaringly sat up straight at my last words. Linda coughed softly and scuffled Tiger's chin. Mills glanced at Steph, then at me. When the cup was full I fielded it to the desk and dropped the tip of a cooling field into it to make it drinkable immediately, then sipped it.

  Linda turned to Mills and asked, “Well, Dr. Mills? It's the best offer on the table."

  "It appears to be the only offer on the table. You'd accept his training as valid?"

  With a grin, Linda said, “Ed is a barnstormer, Dr. Mills. So is Stephie, I think. She's absorbed a lot of his personality traits. I've been with them at a thousand miles an hour, ten feet off the deck at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. If he and Steph teach you to fly a flitter, you'll learn things that aren't in the official manual."

  Mills studied me rather intently for a good five seconds before she turned to Linda and said, “I guess I have no choice, then. I don't want to wait three more months."

  I grinningly peeked around her at Steph and stage-whispered, “Got enough barf bags aboard?"

  "I don't get airsick,” said Mills in a flat tone.

  "If you don't mind, I'll take that as a challenge,” said Steph, surprising all of us.

  To me, Steph said, “I'll be around, of course,” and then she vanished, leaving everyone in the room staring at the space where she'd been.

  Linda gave me an arched eyebrow and a questioning gaze. I gave her a 'damned if I know' look in return.

  "Well, damn,” I said, “That should have been animate enough even for you, Mills. Do you still think I'm anthropomorphizing her?"

  Mills gave me a sharp look, but said nothing.

  Linda fixed a gaze on me as if wondering what I might have said or done to Steph, then she handed Mills’ folder to the secretary and faced me.

  "I'd really prefer that she be trained here, Ed. I could probably find you a few days of room and board someplace."

  I grinned as I said, “It would be a real hardship, what with my busy retirement schedule and all ... But I guess Florida could manage without me for a few days."

  "Okay, then. This issue has eaten enough of my only day off this week. Ed, you have Dr. Mills through close of business Wednesday. Thursday she'll make a check flight with Angela Horn, so don't go easy on her out on the ranges. That's it. Everybody out. I'm going home now."

  When Linda and I stood up, Mills seemed slightly confused, but also got to her feet. Linda patted Tiger, then took her purse out of a drawer and headed for the office door.

  She held the door open as Tiger mounted Elkor's platform and we all exited the office, pulled the door shut behind us and tapped a code to activate the lock, then turned and gave me a quick, grinning kiss on the cheek. Mills seemed somewhat shocked at that.

  "Thanks,” whispered Linda, “We'll talk later."

  I nodded. Linda then gave Mills a handshake and a curt nod and headed down the hallway toward the main entrance, perhaps fifty paces distant.

  A look in that direction told me why Linda had kissed me. Navy Captain Emory Wallace stood by the guard desk near the doors. I gave him a wave, then Tiger and I headed in the opposite direction, toward the building's medical labs.

  Mills had turned to see why I'd waved. When she turned back she had to hurry a bit to catch up with me.

  As she fell in step with me she asked, “Where are we going now?"

  "Past your lab and out the side door to the housing office. I have to see about a room for a few days."

  A few steps later she cleared her throat and said, “Apparently I'm not in possession of all the facts about you and Ms. Baines, Mr..."

  "The facts are personal,” I interrupted her. “Just call me Ed. You'll be Karen."

  "I'm not sure that level of familiarity is a good idea."

  With a glance at her, I said, “I am, and it isn't too late to cancel this deal. You can be ‘doc’ Mills again anytime you want."

  Mills stopped walking and gazed hard at me. I stopped walking and gazed back.

  "Blackmail?” she asked.

  "Or maybe extortion. I was never too clear on the difference. Yes or no?"

  "Will it be like this with every little thing?"

  "Yup. Some of the big things, too."

  "May I ask why you've assumed this rather dictatorial attitude?"

  Shrugging, I said, “Sure, Karen. Linda wants to help you for some reason or she wouldn't have brought me into this at all. So I'll do it for her. I'm your last ditch for flight school for the time being, but you really bug me. That's why this will be as quick and friendly as possible or I just plain won't bother with you. If you can't lose the attitude for a few days, you can damned well stay grounded."

  I didn't wait to see if she'd huff and glare; when I finished speaking I turned and continued walking toward the labs. After a moment Mills wordlessly caught up with me.

  Glancing at her, I asked, “So? Are you Karen or Doc Mills?"

  Without looking at me, Mills said tightly, “Karen. For the time being."

  Nodding, I asked, “Steph, may we have a field pad for Karen? She's going to be learning flitter flight parameters this morning."

  Directly in front of us a field about three feet square appeared. I touched a corner and pushed it inward until the screen was the approximate width of Karen's shoulders, then pushed it more directly in front of her.

  "Thanks, Steph. You're a magical wonder, as usual. Let Karen call that screen up at will during her time with us, please. Restrict her information access to training only, please."

  Mills gave me a sharp glance and seemed about to say something, then her mouth closed and she simply looked at me for a moment as we walked.

  "What?” I asked.

  "Do you really think I'm not cleared to know whatever you know?"

  I grinned. “Doesn't m
atter a damn to me what your clearance is, Karen. You're here for one reason only, so that pad won't show you anything that isn't about flitters."

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I poked up the icons for flitter parameters as we crossed the parking lot, then turned the pad-screen over to Karen as I went in to sign up for quarters. Mills followed me into the building as she scanned an overview of specifications.

  The desk clerk saw Tiger and said, “Sir, we don't allow pets."

  I told him to check with Linda's office. He called a number and somebody told him to wait for a callback. Someone from Linda's office called back within moments and cleared Tiger's presence. The clerk eyed the phone oddly for a moment, shrugged, and handed me a registration form.

  As I filled it out I said, “I don't want any incoming phone calls, okay? None."

  "Yes, sir. I'll place a call block on 206, if you wish."

  "That's what I wish. Thanks."

  After signing in and receiving a key code for room 206, I headed for the building's front door. Mills seemed confused as she looked up from the vid screen.

  "Don't you want to see your room?"

  I shrugged. “Seen ‘em. It'll be there later. Let's fly."

  "Why no phone calls?"

  "Linda has a comm watch. So does anyone else who might need to talk to me."

  At the flitter I tapped Karen's field-screen off and indicated the control egg on the console as Tiger took his usual position on the dashboard.

  "Karen, you'll take the pilot's seat from now on unless told otherwise. You'll be using this egg-shaped device to control the flitter. Steph, as soon as Karen has us in the air with reasonable control she can head us out to range six. Use the team training sessions as guidelines. Karen is allowed to operate this flitter only during training."

  As an apparent afterthought, I added, “Oh, and Steph, please don't directly communicate with Karen until she's figured out on her own how to access flitter controls."

  Mills turned to look at me questioningly as I sat down and poked up my book on a field-screen of my own. Her lips moved slightly in surprise as she scanned the book's title in reverse through the translucent field.

  "What the hell are you doing?” she asked.

  "I'm getting out of your way. Don't mind me. Just drop your butt in the pilot's seat and start learning, ma'am."

  With a sigh of exasperation, Mills said, “I was under the impression that you'd be instructing me to some extent."

  I looked up at Mills and said, “I am instructing you, Karen. I'm instructing you to give some thought to how best to get us underway."

  Mills sweepingly gestured at the rather bare-looking console and the control egg atop it.

  Her voice rose an octave as she said, “You haven't even showed me how to start this thing!"

  "You don't have to start it. It's never off. You're smart, ma'am. You'll figure things out eventually. I'd like to be at the range before noon if that's at all possible, though."

  After a moment of glaring at me, Mills turned sharply away and went to sit in the pilot's seat. She stared at the egg for a moment, then tried to pick it up. It wouldn't budge, of course.

  She looked around the egg and the console fruitlessly for some sort of release mechanism, then glanced at me angrily and seemed almost ready to say something.

  I looked up with as much innocence as I could muster. Mills shut her mouth and resumed her study of the egg and console with determination.

  Through my implant, Steph asked, “Why didn't you tell her to simply talk to me, Ed?"

  Rather than say anything that might give Mills any sort of hint, I poked up a keyboard on my pad and typed, “She's all tensed up and anticipating trouble from us. From me, in particular. When she figures out that all she has to do is ask you nicely to help her, she'll aim any residual attitudes at me."

  "That's supposed to somehow be a good thing?"

  "Sure. She's an alpha-type. A control freak. People like Mills manufacture contention when it doesn't occur spontaneously. I'll be the foil and you'll be the enabler. She'll bust through training in zip time with high scores, if only to poke at me a bit. One thing, though; make her be polite and respectful to you at all times. If she tries to issue outright commands or treats you like a desktop computer, ignore her."

  Aloud, I said, “Uhm, excuse me, Dr. Mills, ma'am ... I really hate to prod, but, well, we ... uhm ... We don't seem to be moving yet."

  Mills stiffened in her seat and said, “If you aren't going to help me, keep quiet."

  "Oh, yes, ma'am, ma'am! Quiet it is. Sorry to interrupt your train of thought, there. I'll just sit here and read until we get to the range. Or until the sun goes down, should it come to that. I'll be the soul of patience, ma'am. Time doesn't matter to me, you know; I'm semi-retired. I have a book and something to drink, so I'm all set. I'll just..."

  Quickly swiveling her seat and facing me with a glower, Mills said, “I'm so glad that you're enjoying yourself at my expense. Perhaps I'll be able to share your enjoyment later, when I report how lightly you take your accepted responsibilities..."

  I interrupted her with a smile and a dismissive wave.

  "It's all being recorded. She'll get a copy of everything. You should only be thinking about how to make this flitter move, Karen. Preferably sometime today."

  Mills simply glared at me for a moment, then turned to face the console.

  "Computer,” she said rather forcefully.

  When Stephie didn't respond and nothing else happened, she said, “Computer, I know you can hear me. Answer me."

  Silence answered her summons.

  I said, “Try being nicer to your instructor, Karen. She outranks you."

  Mills stiffened and snapped, “You're talking about a damned computer!"

  When I said nothing for some moments, she turned angrily to face me. I tapped up the next pages of my book and sipped my coffee, then met Karen's angry gaze for another moment before speaking quietly.

  "No, not exactly, Karen. I'm talking about Stephanie Montgomery, your flitter instructor. She's an AI who chose her own name, who chooses the way she presents herself to the world, and who requires that people relate to her as an individual in a reasonably respectful manner."

  Sharpening my voice a bit, I quietly added, “Beyond that, she's my friend and I back her one hundred percent, so you can either be nice to her or you can get the hell off my flitter."

  Incredulity at my attitude flooded Karen's face for a moment, but her face recomposed as she apparently decided to play along.

  In a saccharin tone she said, “All right, then. In the interests of getting through this as quickly and painlessly as possible ... Stephanie, will you please cooperate with me?"

  Steph appeared in her usual shades-of-green business attire. She sat down in the seat next to Mills and said, “Please pick up the control egg, Dr. Mills."

  Looking as if she thought we were playing a joke on her, Mills said, “I already tried that. It wouldn't..."

  Without looking up, I said, “Just do as you're told, Karen. That's how instruction works."

  Again Steph said, “Please pick up the control egg, Dr. Mills."

  With only a moment's hesitation, Mills did so, trying not to show her surprise when the egg lifted almost effortlessly from the console. Steph then described how the egg would field-bond to Karen's hand and how to use it to guide the flitter.

  A few minutes later Karen was rather jerkily guiding the flitter around in circles and figure-eights. After some further practice in the confines of the parking lot, she aimed us in a westerly direction and we accelerated toward range six.

  Maybe half an hour went by before Tiger hopped down from his perch and came to sit in the seat beside mine. He said something I recognized as having to do with food, so I shoved my field-screen book aside and patted him.

  "Okay, Tiger,” I said, “Stand by one."

  Once I'd taken his dishes and food from the console, I set them to one side and put so
me food in one of them, then used my field implant to gather moisture from the air until Tiger's water dish was about one-third full. He watched until I finished, then said something that I recognized as a thank-you and began to drink.

  Karen had noticed my doings, but when water began coalescing and dribbling into the dish from empty space about six inches above it, her eyes opened a bit wider.

  "How..?” she asked haltingly, then, “How are you doing that?"

  Patting Tiger, I said, “Just another nifty field trick Steph taught me. There's plenty of moisture in the air, even out here in the middle of North Dakota. I'm just bringing some of it together for Tiger."

  As I put the food bag back in the console Karen's gaze seemed fixed on the water dish. When I stood up I used a field tendril to bump the control egg in her hand, which made the flitter jink slightly to the left. Karen squeaked and straightened our course, then glanced up at me narrowly.

  On my way back to my seat I said, “Pilots should pay attention to their piloting, you know."

  After eating a bit, Tiger curled up on the seat beside mine and sounded off in a conversational tone. Steph responded in kind as Karen stared at her, then she told me through my implant that Tiger had wanted to know why Dr. Mills was in the pilot's seat.

  Tiger seemed to mull her response for a moment, then looked at me.

  I patted him and said, “Things are fine, Tiger. Steph, ask him if he'd like to go home, please. Tell him we'll likely be here a few days, too."

  Steph again made some cat noises and again Karen stared at her. Tiger seemed to give the matter some thought before he answered.

  "Tiger said he might want to go home later, Ed."

  I nodded and ruffled Tiger's chin. “Okay."

  Mills turned to look at Tiger and me and seemed about to say something, then she shut her eyes and shook her head slightly as she turned to the front again.

  When she muttered something softly, I asked, “Problem, Karen?"

  "Oh, hell no,” she said tersely. “Not at all. I'm being taught flitter operations by a computer that belongs to an obstreperous autocrat with a talking cat, that's all. Nothing's wrong, though."