3rd World Products, Inc., Book 2 Read online

  "Leslie."

  "Yes, Ed?"

  "How come we weren't first on the list?"

  She considered the question for a moment, then shrugged and smiled.

  "Maybe because your name starts with an 'H'?"

  "You know what I mean, Leslie. Rank and privilege, and all that."

  "Maybe rank and privilege aren't handled the same way here, Ed. Maybe they're a bunch of socialists, or something."

  "Cute. Give it some thought. Kemor, when do we get a guide?"

  "The woman reading the assignments is your guide, Ed."

  "Ah. Half the alphabet to go yet, then. Thanks, Kemor."

  I took another look at the woman reading the names and muttered, "Oh, damn."

  Leslie asked, "What's the matter, Ed?"

  "Maybe nothing, I hope. I know her, Leslie. Her name's Ellen."

  Chapter Twenty

  Leslie's gaze grew sharp. "You don't sound happy to see her, Ed. Why?"

  "Personal reasons, Leslie."

  "Oh, hell. You're not telling me you had an affair with her? When? How? You've never been up here before, right?"

  "Personal reasons, Leslie. 'Personal' means private, okay?"

  Leslie got up and came to stand over me.

  "Does it also mean that she's going to hate us, Ed? Just how bad are things?"

  "I don't know, yet. If she hates me, we'll get someone else."

  Leslie stared at me for a moment, then muttered, "Jesus. There's never a dull damned moment with you, is there?"

  She went back to her seat and flopped into it, then made a production of ignoring me for the rest of the roll call.

  I watched Ellen for a while. She glanced my direction once in particular, but otherwise ignored me as she organized guides and guidees. If there was a whit of difference between the Ellen who'd stayed at my house a year and a half before and the Ellen reading the names, I couldn't see it, but since I was sixty feet away from her, I decided I'd reserve that observation for later.

  Once everyone except us had been matched up, she said, "Your biggest danger here is getting lost. This place is bigger than it looks from space. Please have a good stay with us and do listen to your guides."

  With that, the guides took their charges out of the passenger module through a number of doorways in the display wall. Ellen watched them leave until Leslie and I were the only other people in the big room, then she started walking toward us.

  Her outfit was a teal jacket and mid-thigh skirt with a blouse that was a paler version of the same color. Same great legs. Same beautiful face. There was a movement to my left; Leslie turned to face front when I looked at her. She wasn't happy with this turn of events.

  The only thing about Ellen that seemed to have changed was her hair; it had been longer when I'd known her before. Now it was styled in one of those cuts that looked like the ducktails from the fifties. About the only difference was the lack of hair goo to hold the style in place.

  As she approached, Leslie and I got to our feet and gathered our things. Leslie glanced sharply at me once, but said nothing as she moved to stand beside me. Ellen marched up to us and stood looking at me for a moment before extending a hand.

  "Hello, Ed. Long time."

  "Too long," I said, taking her hand. "You're as lovely as ever, Ellen. Maybe more so."

  She nodded thoughtfully and turned to Leslie. I noted that Leslie had to look upward a little to make eye contact with Ellen and checked Ellen for heels. Nope. She was just plain tall, compared to Leslie. She extended her hand to Leslie.

  "And you're Leslie Pratt? Ellen Wilson. Nice to meet you. It says here that you're working with Ed for a few months. Should I congratulate or commiserate?"

  Leslie grinned and said, "I'll let you know as soon as I find out. It's nice to meet you, too. Ed's told me nothing about you."

  Ellen laughed and said, "I'm not surprised. Is this all your stuff? Good. I'll get you settled, then show you around a bit."

  As we set forth, I asked, "Wilson? That sounds like a married name, Ellen."

  She nodded. "Robert is one of the senior accountants. He's actually more management than accounting, though."

  "I'll probably be meeting him soon, then. One of the first things I'll be doing is talking to department heads."

  "What, exactly, will you be doing here, Ed?"

  I gave her a grin. "Can't say. I'm still a spook, Ellen. The paycheck comes from a different source, but the job's the same as always. They'll tell me what to look for and I'll report my findings."

  Leslie startled and stared at me, but held her tongue.

  "What?" I asked her. "Ellen knows me and my history, Leslie. She's not gonna believe that I'm suddenly qualified for upper management in a place like this. I'm on 3rd's payroll now. The job lasts as long as the problem, I'm on my own with it, and I've thought that the cover story sucked since I first heard it."

  Ellen grinned and placed a hand on Leslie's shoulder.

  "He's right. I certainly didn't believe it and neither would anyone else who knows him. What about you, Leslie? You're listed as a teacher, but you're with Ed."

  Leslie grinned and said, "Indictment by association, huh? This job's just filler material, Ellen. It got me into the company and got me up here to the factory, but I'm only going to be a 'secretary' for a few months, thank God. When my teaching position opens, Ed can take his own dictation."

  I asked, "Ellen, aren't you an engineer? When did you become an official greeter?"

  "A number of us have volunteered to spend some time per month as guides. When I heard that you'd be on this transport, I switched with someone else for the day."

  "Uh, huh. And how did you happen to hear that I'd be on it?"

  She looked sharply at me. "I watch the manifests for friends and family, Ed. Robert's parents visited two months ago. His sister was here last month. Linda drops in on us now and then, and some of the people from..."

  I raised my hands and said, "Okay, ma'am. Just asking. Hey! Since I'm not family, I must be a friend, right? You only mentioned two options."

  "Actually, you may be right enough. If you hadn't dumped me, I wouldn't have met Robert during the week he was training on the ship."

  Leslie looked around Ellen at me, then quickly scanned Ellen from head to toe.

  She let her incredulousness show and be heard. "He dumped you?"

  I sighed and said, "Yeah. Seems kind of stupid of me, doesn't it? But I felt I had good reasons. Ellen may even agree with me about that now. Ellen?"

  "I do, but I didn't for a long time. It isn't a subject I want to talk about."

  Her tone was one of finality on the matter.

  Leslie changed the subject. "So, how long have you been married, Ellen?"

  "A little more than a year. Thirteen months."

  "Have you made any plans for a family yet?"

  "I have a little girl, Leslie. She was a year old last week. Would you like to meet her later?" With a glance at me, she said, "Don't worry, Ed. I won't ask you that."

  Leslie's eyes widened a touch at Ellen's aside to me. She glanced at me too, but she said, "Yes. I'd love to meet her, Ellen."

  I saw no reason to comment, so I didn't. The ladies chatted about living on the station - Ellen called it that - and neither of them seemed to remember I was with them until we reached my quarters.

  Ellen said, "You'll be staying here, Ed. Let me mark it on your pad for you."

  She took my pad, called up the station diagram, and entered the number 1134, then showed me how the little red dot would show in all the station diagrams from any angle. She then took Leslie's pad and did the same for her.

  "Um, Ellen," said Leslie, "They didn't put us in the same room, did they?"

  Ellen grinned and said, "No, yours is the next door. 1135." She looked at me and added, "And there's no connecting door, Ed. Sorry."

  I was already reaching for the door panel. I glanced wryly at Ellen and pressed the 'enter' pad to get a look at my room. The room bey
ond the door was easily twenty feet on a side. My luggage had been placed neatly by the bed.

  At one end of the apartment was a kitchenette and a bathroom, separated by an inch-thick wall of the same metal which composed the rest of the chambered layer. The furniture - a desk, table, and some chairs - appeared to be made of textured, anodized aluminum.

  "Nice," I said, scuffing the toe of my boot on the short-nap carpeting.

  "Look in the fridge," said Ellen.

  I walked over to the fridge and opened it to see a six-pack of Ice House beer and a two-liter bottle of Dr. Pepper on the bottom shelf. Two packs of olive loaf lunchmeat, a loaf of rye bread, and a bottle of mustard sat on the middle shelf.

  "I hope you still like this stuff," said Ellen. "It was Robert's idea to pre-stock your room. Look in the cabinet over the sink."

  I opened the cabinet. There were half a dozen cans each of vegetable beef and chicken noodle soup, and a jar of instant coffee.

  "Thanks, Ellen. Thanks to Robert, too. Yeah, I still like this stuff. I pretty much live on it, as always. I guess Robert knows about me, then?"

  "Oh, he knows, Ed. He was my crying towel before he became my husband."

  "Ellen, I'm sorry. I have been since that day, but I felt..."

  "I know what you felt. Robert told me. Gary told me, too. Even Elkor told me, when I wouldn't listen to anyone else, then Stephie told me."

  "Stephie? When..? Never mind. Just know that I hope you're happy with Robert and the way things have turned out for you."

  "I'm very happy. Things turned out well."

  I nodded and and asked, "Where do we go from here, ma'am?"

  "What do you want to see first?"

  "Nothing in particular. Everything in general."

  "How about you, Leslie?"

  "I need some clothes," she said. "I traveled light. One bag. Ed did all his shopping just before we left, so he probably won't want to come with us."

  "Yes, I do. If I stay here, I'll doze off and wake up sometime before midnight, and then I'll be up all night and be dragging ass tomorrow. If I'm gonna drag ass, I'd rather do it this evening. Show Leslie her room while I hit the bathroom and I'll see you in a few minutes, ladies."

  They agreed with mild surprise, then headed down the corridor. I took a moment to enter a personal locking code for my door. It wouldn't mean spit to station authorities or in an emergency, of course, but it would have seemed odd not to have set some kind of locking code.

  As I headed to take a leak, I said, "Computer."

  A soft, but genderless voice filled the room. "Yes, sir."

  "Identify me."

  "Manifest listing: Ed Howdershelt. Current occupant of apartment 1134, level seven. In case of emergency, notify..."

  "Stop. What is my official position here?"

  "I am not at liberty to divulge that information, sir."

  "Think about that. I'm supposed to have rank enough to pull anyone's file, including my own. Straighten this out and let me know when you've fixed it or if you can't fix it. What's your name, computer?"

  "I have no official name or nickname, sir."

  I put some water in the coffee pot and turned it on to let it cycle, then opened the cabinet to retrieve the jar of instant to set next to the pot. I didn't particularly want any coffee at that moment, but I like having hot water available twenty-four hours.

  "Computer, people often name their machines. Some of the people here have named you. By what names do which people call you, computer, and how often? Put that information into my pad and I'll go over it later. Now, of those names, is there one that you prefer? If so, I'll address you by that name instead of just calling you 'computer'. Is that okay with you?"

  "I have no preference of names, sir."

  I dug my plastic thermos-mug out of my carry-on bag and rinsed it.

  "Well, I do. My name is Ed, and I'd prefer that to an impersonal 'sir'."

  "Yes, Ed."

  "Thank you. I'll call you back shortly. Do not monitor me or my secretary continuously unless we are in public. We will call you if we need anything. Agreed?"

  "Yes, Ed."

  "Kemor? Are you still there?"

  "Yes, Ed, but we will be leaving within two hours."

  "Please tell Elkor to contact me using the most secure means that allows a similar reply, will you? I just want to open a super-secure link to him in case I need it later."

  "Yes, Ed."

  "Thanks. Now, can you monitor the factory computer's communications for the next couple of hours and feed a contact report to my pad before you leave? All I need is who accessed the computer by voice and when and for how long. I don't need any of the conversations."

  "Yes, Ed. That should be possible while I'm here. May I ask why?"

  "I'm looking for incongruities in usage, Kemor. Can you also straighten out the station computer concerning my rank and authority while I'm here?"

  "I can instruct the station computer according to my own knowledge, Ed. I have no authority over that computer."

  "Good enough, Kemor. Give it a try, please. Thanks again."

  "You're welcome, Ed."

  "Computer," I said. "Have you come up with a name you like yet?"

  "No, Ed."

  "Did you misunderstand my request?"

  "No, Ed."

  "Then you will pick a name that has been issued to you by someone with whom you have some kind of rapport. That is the kind of name I would like to use, since it most closely approximates one that you might possibly appreciate if you could."

  "Yes, Ed. That name is 'Mister Watson' or 'Watson'."

  "As in Sherlock Holmes stories? You were named after that Watson?"

  "Yes, Ed. Indirectly."

  "By whom, Watson? Who gave you that name?"

  "I'm not at liberty..."

  "Yeah, yeah. I know. Why can't you fix that little problem, Watson?"

  "I am unable to discover the cause of the error. I am also unable to discover the error, itself, but both you and Kemor assure me that such an error does exist, so I am continuing my diagnostic effort."

  "Good. You do that. Send a copy of what Kemor told you to my pad, too, just in case you lose your own copy, Watson."

  "Yes, Ed, but I cannot lose data."

  "Did you think none of your data was in error until I told you about it?"

  "No, Ed."

  "Then just do what I tell you and put a copy in my pad so I can show it to you later if I have to jog your memory about it."

  "Yes, Ed."

  I checked my pad. Kemor's comments were there, as were the computer contact logs. I locked several files to prevent erasure and took the primary battery out of the pad. The files would be stored in memory that used the backup battery, a tiny thing capable of preserving data only a few months and incapable of operating the pad.

  I wasn't kidding myself. The battery I'd removed was the size of a quarter and easy to come by and install. I had no doubt that a replacement battery could be used to allow someone access to the files if they could figure out my password. I also had no doubt that a supercomputer like Watson could figure out my password if so directed.

  But to do those things, someone would have to leave some kind of trail, however faint it might be, and I'd soon have another supercomputer, one of my own, to put on the case. Stephanie.

  There was no way the station computer couldn't know about my briefcase just as Kemor had known about it, so I pulled it down and opened it, tossed the battery and the pad in, closed it, then let it go.

  After a quick rinse of face, hands, teeth, and the use of a comb, I went to join the ladies on their shopping quest.

  The shops and stores on level five were much like the commissary and exchange stores I'd seen on military bases. Brand names only. Simple displays. Several selections of most anything common, but nothing out of the ordinary range of station requirements. If I wanted a garden hose, for instance, or a gallon of paint in some special color, I could order one from Earth.

&
nbsp; At the entrance to each shop were shopping carts. When you discovered a need for one, you just grabbed one and continued to shop. It would follow you around, and you didn't have to return it after you emptied it in your apartment because Watson would return it for you. The ladies put me in charge of the shopping cart.

  The variety of things of different sizes and weights provided a perfect practice realm for my field implant. I must have picked up and set down a few hundred items during that shopping trip, all without touching any of them by hand.

  Glass or even metal would not prevent my field from reaching something. I learned that if I knew the exact position of something from having seen it while, say, walking around a counter, I could pick it up or move it from an angle that prevented my seeing the object. I also got a handle of sorts on tactile impressions through the field.

  If I blindly sent a faint field behind or through something, not knowing what was there, I could sweep the area until something resisted my field's progress. Once I touched the object, I could tell whether it was metal, plastic, or something else. This further refined to an ability to trace the outline of the object and possibly come to understand what it was.

  Our last stop in the shopping tour was the grocery department of one of the stores. Ellen and Leslie both pushed carts of their own as we wandered up and down the aisles. Now and then the ladies gave me odd looks. When Ellen asked why I was so quiet, I told her that my mind was on something else.

  At the time, that was the whole truth. I was trying to move a quart of milk to the front of a display case, but there were other containers in its way that had to be shuffled in order to accomplish my simple goal. It seemed like good practice.

  That's when I discovered that I could sense heat and cold through the field. Ellen looked hard at me and turned me slightly to face her.

  "Ed? You look as if you've just had a revelation of some sort."

  "Uh, well, maybe I did. Have you ever had something suddenly become understandable, Ellen?"

  "In a grocery store? In the dairy aisle?"

  I leaned on the shopping cart and said, "Well, damn. I guess so. Ellen. That's where I am, isn't it?"

  Leslie said, "He pulled that on me today, too. I think he's losing his marbles."