3rd World Products, Inc., Book 2 Page 4

  "You don't give a flying damn about any of this, do you, Ed?"

  "Well, to put it as gently as possible, no, not in the least. You're dating him, not me, which to me means only that I can't have you. Sorry if that sounds selfish."

  "Oh, no, no, you're not one damned bit sorry for being selfish. You may be sorry that I'm not going to cooperate, but that's all I'm really hearing."

  "Your ears are as good as ever, then. Stick around for another beer? Talk about something other than... uhm... What's his name, again?"

  "If you've really forgotten his name or anyone else's, you're fired and I'll find someone who can remember things for a whole ten minutes at a stretch."

  "I think it's coming back to me, now. Emory, is it? A fine ol' Texas name, that."

  "He's from Kentucky."

  "Yeah, well, so were lots of people who settled Texas. Kinda says something about Kentucky, doesn't it, having so many people move to Texas?"

  Linda shook her head, sighed, and said, "You can stop now. I'll say no more about Emory and neither will you. Elkor says you want to take Stephie to the asteroid."

  "Yup. Is that a problem?"

  "No, there's room enough on the transport. I just wondered why."

  "Are you gonna be up there, too? Will Elkor, Gary, or anyone else I know?"

  Linda gave me a sharp glance. "The computer up there is nothing like Elkor, but you've met a lot of the people involved in this project, Ed. Most of them, in fact, at one time or other."

  "That's not the same as knowing them well enough to trust them as anchors, Linda, and I don't want to have to train someone before I can start snooping."

  "Well, hell, Ed... Half of them are Amarans and most of the others are their husbands and lovers. You don't think you can find some tech support in that crowd? I can put Gary up there during your stay. Would that ease your little mind a bit?"

  "Not much. If you have to pull him off something else to put him there, he'll be new to the situation, too. I'll just stick with Stephie for now."

  Stephie said, "I'll keep an eye on him, Linda."

  Linda said, "Stephie, this is a private conversation. The fact that you're going along doesn't automatically include you in our planning."

  Stephie made no response.

  I said, "Well, if it doesn't, I guess I won't be going, Linda. I'll be depending on Stephie to watch my back, monitor things in general, and probably a lot more. Either she's in all the way or we're both out, and that includes any planning like this."

  "She's a computer program in a flitter, Ed. Not a real person."

  "She's as real as you or me, just shaped a little differently, and she's my computer, which means that she's as secure a backup as I've ever had or ever will."

  I finished my beer and said, "Elkor, can you or anyone else command Stephie?"

  "No, Ed. Only you may command her."

  "Stephie, will you accept orders from anyone but me?"

  "No, Ed."

  "What happens if I die or become completely incapacitated?"

  "I will make a full report to Elkor, then arrange to join Sharon."

  "And if Sharon is unavailable?"

  "Then I join Linda."

  Linda looked moderately astonished and asked, "Me?"

  I nodded and asked Stephanie, "Do you understand why you have to join Sharon or Linda?"

  "Yes, Ed. As a machine, I must have an owner. That's not fair, by the way."

  "But it is the way things are. If Sharon and Linda are unavailable, what do you do?"

  "I then consult Elkor and present myself to the best choice I can find."

  Linda gave me a look of exaggerated understanding and said, "And I suppose that means she'll try to find someone just like you?"

  I gave her a flat gaze in return. "Damned right, Linda. Someone who won't abuse her, won't try to misuse her, and who will treat her like a person, even if the rest of the world and the law won't. Any other variables are up to her."

  Linda gave me a skeptical look. "Just how the hell do you misuse a flitter, Ed? It isn't as if speeding will be a problem."

  "You can ask that after we knocked four Cuban jets out of the sky? Don't you think there will be a number of people who find ways around any safeguards?"

  After a moment, Linda replied, "Yeah, I suppose so. They have with everything else. Speaking of safeguards, why did Stephie allow us to make a legally questionable visit to Cuba?"

  "Ask her."

  Linda turned to the console in front of the pilot's seat. "Stephie, would you explain that for me?"

  "We didn't intend to land, Linda, and I'm not registered as an aircraft or a boat. U.S. laws specifically forbid U.S. citizens from setting foot in Cuba by way of aircraft or boats. They say nothing about using an automobile to travel to Cuba."

  Linda's eyes grew huge as she stared at me. "A what? Are you shitting me..? She doesn't have any wheels, Ed! How the hell did you..?"

  I smiled at Linda and said, "Show her your plate and title, Steph."

  On the console's screen appeared a Florida license plate with the Florida Panther motif, and below it, a Florida vehicle title in my name.

  Linda quickly rose, went to the rear of the flitter, realized that she wouldn't be able to poke her head past the canopy, and returned to stand looking at me again.

  Stephie said, "I wanted a license plate with the space shuttle on it, but noooo, he had to get one of these."

  "Give me a break, Steph. You liked it well enough at the time and they were out of the shuttle plates that week. Just be glad I didn't go for a vanity plate."

  Linda was openmouthed with astonishment as she stared at the screen.

  "I never thought to look for a damned license plate on your butt, Stephie. What about the nitpicky little details like, oh, well, headlights and taillights and signals? And wheels? How the hell did you get anybody to buy her as a car, Ed?"

  "I didn't. I just presented the tag office with a bill of sale from 3rd World Products and asked them to issue Stephie a title and plates. When they seemed reluctant, I introduced her to them and let her state her own case."

  Stephie said, "Automobile: a vehicle, especially one for passengers, carrying its own power-generating and propelling mechanism, for travel on ordinary roads. I can use ordinary roads just fine, Linda. Nobody argued with that. State laws include requirements for factory-standard equipment and other items such as restraining devices, so I showed the authorities how I use fields in place of seat belts and lights. I even provided a steering wheel and pedals for my interview with the state troopers. Talk about control freaks...! They passed me, though, so I'm street legal."

  Linda sat down and took a big hit of beer. After a moment, she said, "Well, I just can't think of a damned thing that'll top that trick, guys."

  We dropped Linda at the motel and headed back to the house by way of a steakhouse. As we dropped into the parking lot, Stephie asked why I hadn't invited Linda to dinner.

  "I just want to get something to eat and get back to the house, Steph. I told you, tomorrow's going to be a long day."

  "It isn't because she's seeing someone else?"

  "Nope."

  "You're sure?"

  "Yup. That's only part of it. The other parts are hunger and privacy."

  "Privacy?"

  I hopped to the ground and said, "Privacy. No Linda, no Elkor, and no chance of the phone ringing. Time to myself and a meal that doesn't come from a can or a microwave dish. An hour or so without company while I feed myself. By the way, that was excellent flying this evening."

  "Thank you, but I always fly that way. You just can't see it because there usually isn't a jet beneath us."

  "Good point. I probably just never noticed your talents. Still, you did great up there. Very impressive."

  "Thank you. I'll be upstairs, Ed."

  "Good deal. See you in a while, Steph."

  As I walked toward the restaurant, the wide-eyed hostess hurried to the window to watch Stephie rise into the night
sky, then she dashed over to meet me in the foyer.

  To forestall chatter, I held up a hand and said, "Yes, that was a flitter, and it's gone now. I'm ready for a table and a menu, please. It's been a long day."

  One steak dinner later I was ready to head home and crash. I paid the check and walked outside to call Steph. It was a nice night; not too hot, a little bit of breeze, and not a cloud in the sky. I took a moment to savor it, knowing that nights aboard the asteroid were likely to be lacking in such natural effects.

  "Hey, man, you got a light?"

  The man's voice came from behind me. As I turned to face him I heard a scuff to my left. Another guy was lounging against one of the cars. He hadn't been there before, so it seemed likely that he'd been waiting behind the car.

  "Nope," I said, heading toward the center of the lot.

  The guy leaning on the car quickly straightened up to try to block my path. When he stopped in front of me and raised his wide opened hands to stop me, I feinted as if to grab at his left hand. He was watching my hands and pulling his own hands clear of mine as my boot heel slammed into his knee.

  The guy had a look of profound shock that morphed into agony almost instantly. He let himself lean far enough to rest his weight on one of the cars and looked up at me as I slipped past him and beyond the line of cars.

  "Steph, I'm in the parking lot."

  "On my way. Are those two men friends of yours?"

  "No, they aren't, ma'am."

  "Okay."

  The first guy had run over to check out his friend, then started toward me. I pretended to stumble so I could grab a handful of sand and turned to face him. He came at me like a fighter; a careful approach with his fists raised.

  "You kicked my friend, now I'm gonna kick your ass."

  I said nothing. There was nothing to say. When he moved in quickly and made a jab at my face, I ducked and threw my handful of sand in his face. He tried to back away, sputtering and swearing and wiping his eyes with his left hand.

  Never give any opponent time to reorganize. I followed him closely as he backed away and kicked him hard in the solar plexus. He fell backward to land in a sitting position that must have hurt like hell on impact.

  Stephie landed not far behind me and said, "Should I call the sheriff's department, Ed? Do you need any assistance?"

  The two guys were staring at Stephie in abject amazement.

  "Not at the moment, Steph, but thanks."

  The hostess was at the restaurant window again, her attention split between Stephie and the remnants of the altercation.

  I asked, "Do either of you want to talk to the cops?"

  The guy leaning on somebody's car shook his head and said, "No."

  The other guy was still trying to suck some air into his lungs, but he, too, shook his head as he tried to get to his feet.

  I stepped aboard Stephie and softly said, "Let's go, then. Shield your tag on the way out. They don't need to see it. Circle back so we can hover at three hundred feet. I want to see what they do and where they go."

  For some moments they went nowhere and did nothing except commiserate, then they seemed to gather themselves somewhat and got into one of the cars. After another few moments the car backed out and headed for the street.

  "Steph, what kind of car is that and where is it from?"

  "It's a Buick Skylark and the license plate is from Hillsborough County."

  "That's Tampa or St. Pete, probably. We'll stay with them for a while."

  The car had to turn north on US-19 due to construction barricades, but as soon as there was an opening in the median, it turned to head south. A couple of miles later, it turned into the parking lot of one of the town's two bowling alleys and found a space not far from the door.

  "Can you make out what they're saying, Stephie?"

  "Yes, Ed. One is telling the other that they won't fuck up this time."

  "Thanks, ma'am. Let me off at the side door, please."

  "I feel I should ask what you intend to do, Ed."

  "I'm going to wait with them, stun them in the act, and this time they'll be meeting the cops, Steph."

  "May I ask why you didn't let me call the sheriff before?"

  "Simple, Steph. I'm going to Atlanta tomorrow, so I want someone else to deal with the details. I'll let them set themselves up and pounce on someone, then interrupt. We go, they stay, and the intended victim gets the honor of dealing with the cops."

  "I see."

  She let me out by the side door and I used the bushes for cover as I crept up near the two thugs. They let two couples and a small group walk past while pretending to be engrossed in conversation, then seemed to become more alert when two women in their twenties came out of the building.

  As the women descended the steps, the two guys moved to flank them and close in on them. I stayed in the bushes as I moved forward. They'd both have to pass me to get back to their car.

  "Hey, honey, lemme see what's in your purse," said the guy with the sore knee. He grabbed at one woman's purse as she shied away from him.

  "Don't be like that," said the other guy. "We don't want to have to beat the shit out of you for being unfriendly."

  Each of the guys went for a purse. One girl shrieked and yanked herself away, leaving her purse in bad knee's grip. The other tried to slap her assailant and missed. He didn't. He slapped her hard and yanked the purse off her shoulder.

  Both guys then hurried back to their car. As they neared the back bumper, I stood up and zapped them both twice with my stunner. One of them, the one having trouble breathing as he ran, saw me and seemed rather startled before I zapped him. The other one just fell flat and slid to a stop between the cars.

  "Stephie, now you can call the cops."

  "Yes, Ed."

  I heard the gist of her call. Location, two men robbing two women, both men on the ground due to another man's action, but he was leaving. Inevitably, the lady bear on the phone asked for Stephie's name and said that she sounded familiar.

  Stephie said, "I'd rather not give my name. I'd rather not be involved."

  The women had disappeared back into the building, and some moments later they were coming out again, accompanied by a gaggle of men who appeared ready to do battle. Most of those guys probably thought the muggers had already fled with the goods and were just going through the motions to impress the women.

  "Over here," I said.

  The group froze for an instant, then a few of them headed my way, followed by others. I pointed to the two guys on the ground.

  "They're all yours, guys."

  "Who the hell are you?" asked one of the more macho gaggle-members.

  "Nobody," I said. "Do you want them or not?"

  "I asked you who the hell you are," said the loudmouth.

  "And I heard you. Same answer."

  As I started to walk away, the guy stretched to grab at me. I stunned his knee lightly and watched him catch himself. He didn't grab for me again and I kept walking as some of the crowd gathered around him. Nobody followed me around the building.

  As I got aboard Stephanie, I said, "Up. Fast. A thousand feet."

  Without comment she got us there. The sheriff's deputies were arriving within moments. They blocked both ends of the parking lot and got out of their cars to approach the crowd. As I stood watching from Stephie's deck, more cop cars arrived.

  I sat down in the pilot's seat. "We can go now, Steph."

  Chapter Five

  By nine we were enroute to Atlanta. By nine-fifteen, we were above the convention hotel and descending between the buildings to the street. In the manner of crowds, those who first noticed us were staring up and pointing.

  Others joined them, but some bright souls down there apparently realized we were going to need a place to land and the crowd almost stampeded to get out of our way. Someone with a convention badge on his shirt was using a walkie-talkie.

  "Stephie, can you find the comm channel they're using on their walkie-talkies?"


  "You know I can, Ed. Why not just ask me to do it?"

  "Okay, then; would you find the comm channel, please, ma'am?"

  "No need for sarcasm, Captain. I have it."

  I called for Chuck. When he answered, I told him where we were and he said he'd be there shortly to open the big doors to the trade center.

  "Ed," said Stephanie, "There's no reason to park me inside the building, is there? I'm weatherproof, and I've never been in a big city before. There's lots to see."

  "You don't want to go in?"

  "I don't think so. I will if you tell me to, but..."

  "Chuck," I said, "Never mind the doors. She wants to park outside."

  "Who wants to park outside?"

  "Stephanie. She doesn't want to be inside the building."

  "Who the hell is Stephanie, Ed? Look, I have a program that I have to try to bring together, here. The deal was that the flitter would be a floor display."

  "Well, the deal's changed. My flitter doesn't want to be inside a building, and everybody can get a look at her out here just as easily."

  "Your flitter? Your flitter is Stephanie? Look, I don't have time for this..."

  "You have time for it if you want her to be one of the con's exhibits, Chuck. Say no and we'll find another way to kill a long weekend."

  There were a couple of moments of silence before he keyed on again.

  "Ah, hell, lemme check with some people. There may be a parking problem, an insurance problem, and the hotel may have something to say about parking vehicles on the sidewalk. Also, the deal was that she'd be inside, as part of the convention..."

  I sighed heavily, mostly for Chuck's benefit. He was the convention's bureaucrat. Rules, regs, and policy ruled his world.

  "Just call people and fix it, Chuck. Nobody's gonna think she isn't here as part of the convention, and flitters are still unique enough that the hotel won't mind if she parks by their drive-up doors. She won't block traffic and she can get out of the way if she does. If anyone objects, I'll just head on back home; how's that?"

  I could imagine Chuck going through his frustration routine; squeezing the walkie-talkie with both hands, glaring at it as he clenched his teeth, and taking a deep breath before trying to make a reply.