3rd World Products, Book 17

by Ed Howdershelt

  As I zipped toward the ocean, I received a ping from Lori. I answered it and she said she’d heard from Angie. I summarized what I’d said to Milla and Angie. Lori said she was sure Kara hadn’t had any opportunities to collect DNA.

  “Right,” I said, “Do you still chew gum? Did you swallow it or spit it out? Did she visit your apartment? Your bathroom? Your kitchen? Sit on your couch and pluck hair off the blue cushion you use when you watch TV? Or just pull it out of your hairbrush?”

  Her expression had become a glower. I said, “Don’t be pissed at me for knowing where to find evidence. I’m just saying we’d both be guessing, and that’s not good enough. We have to assume she got some and find the answer first.”

  “Aren’t you the one who always says never to assume?”

  “How was that response useful?”

  Another ping arrived as I spoke. Aw, hell. It was Ellen, undoubtedly remembering very clearly why she’d left me. I split the screen and turned it into a conference call, partly to have Lori as a buffer. After another recap of the situation, Ellen coolly suggested that we let Carrington direct matters, then said goodbye.

  Lori sighed, “Yeah, me, too on that. I don’t have a better idea. But now I’m wondering why they hadn’t already started. We discussed looking for a gene tweak back when Kara and Eva were here.”

  “Yup. Had any blood tests lately?”

  “Every three months. The… Oh. Maybe they did start.” A moment later she said, “Look at this,” and had Xenia send me data.

  Using a separate screen, I scanned the info from over three years of genetic and other testing. Most of it was arcane to me, but the summarized results weren’t. They hadn’t found the answer.

  Lori said she had to go and we said goodbye. I checked the time before I let the screen vanish. Almost eleven. My probe at Disa’s door pinged and I had a look. She’d already entered her room. As good a time to visit as any. I headed back to the clinic on my board rather than walk the corridors.

  When I arrived at Disa’s room, I tapped the door field. Instead of taps, I faintly heard chimes in the room. Disa smilingly opened the field and ushered me in. I signaled Milla through my implant.

  She answered, “Yes, Ed?”

  I silently said, “I’m in Disa’s room, Milla. I’d like you to monitor.”

  “Yes, Ed.”

  To Disa, I said, “I just came here to talk.”

  She grinned and asked, “Talk? Really? That’s all?”

  Nodding, I replied, “Yes’m. Really. Just talk. Why is there a sample of me in your fridge?”

  Disa froze in the midst of unzipping her uniform. Her eyes flared, then she glanced at the fridge and back at me. Sitting heavily on the edge of her bed, she asked, “How did you know?”

  “Just did. What I’d like to know is why you saved it.”

  She looked up incredulously and asked, “Why do you think?!”

  “I’d rather not guess. I might be wrong.”

  Disa’s expression turned to wary puzzlement as she eyed me and asked, “Wrong? Wrong how?”

  “Just wrong. What were you going to do with that sample?”

  As if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, she replied, “What the hell else would I do with it?! I was going to use it to make a baby! My baby!”

  Well. That was news. Of a sort. If true. I consulted Milla. She confirmed that my cells could be combined with Disa’s by some rather extreme micro-manipulation of their parts. A viable result would be implanted in a fallopian tube to begin dividing and eventually form a fetus.

  Rule thirteen; play it where it lies.

  I asked, “When would you have told me about it?”

  Disa’s eyes flicked left and down. “I don’t know. Eventually.”

  “That didn’t sound very sincere, ma’am. Maybe I should be asking why you chose me, even though you knew I’d taken a big step to ensure I’d never have to deal with kids.”

  Sullen again, Disa’s gaze met mine. She sourly retorted, “You wouldn’t have to deal with this one, either.” After holding her gaze for a moment, she dropped her eyes and added softly, “Unless you decided you wanted to.”

  I’d noticed she’d said ‘wouldn’t have to‘, not ‘wouldn’t have had to‘, which likely meant she thought she might talk me into it.

  “But that could only happen after you told me, ma’am. I might have been ninety by then.” When she looked up with a dull glare, I asked, “So, again; why me?”

  Giving me another incredulous look, Disa snapped, “Oh, for the love of… See for yourself! Add it up!”

  She reached to open a desk drawer and took out a small notebook, then practically slapped it into my hand. The first nineteen pages contained a much-condensed version of my employment history.

  Her personal notes began with my first re-recruitment physical and ran through a number of other events that had occurred during my time with 3rd World and after, including what she knew of my efforts to help Marie.

  I’d sat down at the desk while I scanned the notebook. Handing it back to her, I sipped coffee and considered matters before I spoke.

  “Don’t lose that notebook, ma’am. You’ll probably hear from some people who are worried that you intend to send that sample of me to Amara. If you have to, show it to them.”

  “Amara?”

  “Yup. You spoke with Kara when she was here.”

  “Only to pick her brain. I showed her around. We had a lunch and a dinner and then she was gone.” Her eyes fell to her hands and she picked at a cuticle as she said, “In fact, that’s when I got the idea to… well, to…”

  I supplied, “To make a baby.”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Using me.”

  Nodding again, she softly admitted, “Yes.”

  “No matter how I might feel about it.”

  With closed eyes and an exasperated sigh, Disa said, “Yes, but I thought you might change your mind once… well, once you could actually see…”

  “Crap. That’s just another way of saying, ‘Once the kid was born and it was too damned late to do anything about it‘. Disa, don’t try to bullshit yourself and especially not me. I had my vasectomy over forty years ago. You didn’t really think there was a chance in hell I’d change my mind about having kids at my age. You just wanted a kid and to hell with how I felt about it.”

  Looking up with another of those sullen glares, Disa met my gaze again for a moment, then got up and went to the fridge. She took out the swab vial stared at it for a time, then turned to face me. Looking as if she wanted to throw it at me, she walked back to me and set the vial on the desk.

  “Take it,” she said, “Go ahead, get rid of it.” Sitting on the bed, she said, “But think about what you’re doing. You wouldn’t have to be part of her life. Or his.” After a pause, she added, “Unless you wanted to be. I wouldn’t ask for anything from you, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Is it?”

  I realized my head was already shaking slightly as I said, “No.”

  “Then what? What the hell’s your problem with… Wait. Is there something you haven’t told anyone? Not anyone, ever? Something that made you scared to have kids of your own?”

  “Disa, my first really bad scare was when my first wife got pregnant. As much as I loved her… the idea of having kids with an alcoholic? Oh, hell, no. And then I realized I really, truly didn’t want to spend my life that way. I had places to go, things to do. I knew that if I had a kid, I’d be stuck in the States, grinding out a daily living and wondering what could have been. So I made a choice.”

  Disa canted her head, peered at me, and said, “That was then. This is now. From what I’ve seen, you’ve been everywhere and done almost everything. Now you’re retired, whatever that means to you.”

  Getting up and going to the fridge, she took out a can of tea and opened it, then sipped it. After a second sip, she shut the fridge door and came back to the bed.

  Sitting down again, Disa studied the vial an
d sipped again, then said, “Lots of women raise kids without fathers. Before I came here, one of my friends lost her husband in Iraq. She has two daughters. Another friend divorced her husband for several reasons. She has a son. I’m just saying… It’s not impossible. Not even unusual.”

  “Uh, huh. Here’s something else, Disa. This guy Lane is a perfect example, in fact. I know his father. I saw how his father took the news his only son had been shot. And I’ve cleaned up after way too many car accidents and been on far too many burial details. I don’t need that kind of parental suffering in my life.”

  Disa met my gaze and softly asked, “Ed, don’t you want to leave some kind of legacy behind? Don’t you want to be remembered? Don’t you want to leave some part of yourself in this world?”

  Shrugging, I asked, “Do you think nobody bothered to ask those questions forty years ago? If you’re dead set on being a single mother, find yourself some other guy.”

  I was suddenly very tired of discussing the matter. Using a smaller version of the flitter’s hull field, I enveloped the sample, lifted it to the center of the room, and turned it to plasma. Disa’s eyes widened in shock, likely as much at how I’d done it as what I’d done.

  “Disa,” I said, “Thank you — and I truly mean that — but no.”

  With that, I turned and left her room. I had my pack and my coffee mug. I’d left nothing in my room. Time to go.

  Calling up my board, I zipped along the corridor as I said, “Milla, thanks for your hospitality, but I’m heading back to the States.”

  “What about the possibility of being arrested?”

  Stopping to catch an elevator to the roof, I replied, “I’ll find a way to make them pay through the nose if they do, ma’am. Bye for now. I’m pretty sure I’ll be back.”

  “Okay, Ed. Goodbye.” She dropped the link.

  When the elevator door opened, I crossed the roof’s reception lobby with a wave to the woman at the desk. Near the landing pad, I had Galatea configure as a bullet flitter and launched north.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Arriving above my patch of Florida, Tea slowed and switched to standard flight mode. Lunch seemed a good idea, so I stopped at a burger place. As I munched my fries, I wondered what to do with the rest of the day. A few minutes later, that question was answered when Tea routed a local 911 call to her monitor. There was a big brush fire over in Weeki Wachee. Good ‘nuff.

  I had the restaurant pack my food to go and found the lead fire team in the scrub jungle just north of SR-550. Smothering flames, hauling water for pumpers, and patching injured wildlife occupied an hour or so before Angie pinged me.

  When I put up a screen, Angie’s eyes focused on the fire trucks behind me briefly, then she asked without preamble, “Why the hell aren’t you in Guyana?”

  “Well, hello to you, too. There was no reason to stay there.”

  “Was there more reason to leave?”

  I sighed, “New topic, please.”

  “No,” she snapped, “Same topic. Same problem. Nothing’s changed, so why did you come back?”

  “Guess I’m just not too worried, ma’am. I’m tired of the med laws and tired of the ugly games. If they try to arrest me, the media will attack them like a pack of starving pit bulls and I’ll damned well feed them all the nasty little scraps I can dig up.”

  Angie eyed me for a moment, then said, “You have quite a mood going there, don’t you? Are you ready to talk about it?”

  “Nope. I said all I had to say before I left.”

  “To Disa?”

  “Yup. According to her, it had nothing to do with Amara. She was going to manufacture what she needed to make herself pregnant. Apparently she’s my number one fan.”

  Leaning back in her chair, Angie replied, “Oh. Oh, hell. You’re sure that’s all she had in mind?”

  “Sure enough, but I’m too close for a good view. Your security interviews will answer that question to both our satisfactions. Have whomever check out her scrapbook, too. It’s all about me.”

  After a pause, Angie said, “Well, let me know if you need to talk. You don’t get offers like that every day.” As if to keep me from interrupting, she held up a hand and added, “And I’m not making light of it. Whether she’s obsessed with you or just trying to be as selective as possible, you were her choice. That’s no small thing, Ed. I hope you were gentle about refusing her.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I stifled an urge to yell as I said, “Angie, she was going to clone me, damn it!”

  “Yeah, I know that. And I’m not saying I approve, but I can understand her motives to some degree. Can you?”

  Taking a calming breath, I replied, “Sort of. I think. But ultimately, I don’t have to. I took myself out of that game forty years ago and nobody’s going to force me back into it.”

  Eyeing me and tapping on her mug, Angie replied, “Is that what this is really about? That she was going to do it without asking?”

  I sighed sardonically, “You say that as if it wouldn’t be reason enough to freak out. But no, that’s not all of it. Hell, no. I had my reasons forty years ago and those reasons haven’t changed.”

  Sipping and leaning forward to set her cup to one side, Angie said, “Okay, you wanted a new topic. Myra called. She’ll be on a team looking into what’s happening to satellites. Has she called you?”

  “Nope.”

  “If she does, what’ll you say?”

  “Whatever seems appropriate. Prob’ly nothing.”

  “Only probably? Why would anything else be appropriate?”

  I grinned. “She might be wearing shorts.” Slipping into a Texas drawl, I said, “She’s damned near as purty as you, ma’am. I don’t know how long I could hold out…”

  Angie rolled her eyes and snapped, “I do, but I don’t think you’d tell her anything more useful than what you’re telling me.”

  “Well, dang. Another smart one.”

  “You wouldn’t be happy working for a bimbo. So you aren’t concerned about legal complications regarding Steve Lane?”

  “Not very. I’ll target info bombs on all the key players. To drag me into anything, they’ll have to be willing to accept complete exposure of their personal and political sins against the people.”

  Her left eyebrow arched. “That could be considered blackmail.”

  “Or a public service. Oddly enough, blackmail only works well on guilty people.” I chuckled, “Think it’ll work on that crowd?”

  She grinned. “Most of them. But there might be a few idiots.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll send them sample publicity kits.”

  Angie snickered, “They’ll love them, I’m sure. Okay. I have work to do here. Later, Ed.”

  “Bye, Fearless Leader. Sorry they’re making you work.”

  Checking the burger bag, I found I’d already eaten all my fries, but I still had half a burger left. Warming it with a field, I prepared to take a bite when I received another ping. Marie.

  Putting up a screen, I said, “Hi, there,” and noted she was in Wallace’s office using his datapad. “Where’s Cap?”

  Eyeing the scene behind and to each side of the flitter, Marie said, “Looking for something in the front office. I see you’re keeping busy. Why didn’t you come back here?”

  “Apparently I needed some time to myself.”

  “Apparently?”

  I shrugged. “I’m here. I’m alone. That makes it apparent.”

  “Alone? What about all those guys in the funny hats?”

  “I think they’re just here for the fire, ma’am.”

  She met my gaze a moment, then asked, “Do we have a problem, Ed?”

  I had to grin as I said, “It’s not about you. It’s me.”

  Rolling her eyes at the hoary old cliche, Marie said, “I’d already guessed that much. Are you going to tell me?”

  Trying to envision Marie’s reaction to , ‘I was with another woman last night and she almost used my stuff to mak
e herself preggers,‘ I settled for, “It involves classified stuff, but you’ve already experienced Amaran medicine. Ask Angie about it.”

  She almost bought it. I could see it in her eyes. Unfortunately, I could also see the moment when her mind rejected it.

  Her gaze narrowed. “Try again.”

  “Just a minute.” I split the screen and pinged Angie. When she answered, I said, “Hi, again, ma’am. Marie wants to know what’s bugging me and she’s pushing for an answer. May I tell her?”

  Angie replied, “Sure, if you want to see her taken into custody and have your security clearance burned.” Looking at Marie’s side of her screen, Angie said, “You’re close to Ed, so you might be brought into things later. For now, the answer’s no.”

  She let that sink in, then asked me, “Was that all?”

  “Yup.” Looking at Marie, I asked, “How about you?”

  Marie looked at Angie and said, “Nothing else. Thanks.”

  Angie replied, “Later, then. Bye.” Her half of the screen vanished when she dropped the link.

  Marie’s narrow, disgruntled gaze held mine for a moment, then she asked, “Did you really think that was necessary?”

  “Yup. You thought I was bullshitting you.”

  “We could have talked about it.”

  “And now you’re trying to bullshit me. Or maybe yourself. Or both, I suppose, but I thought you knew yourself better…”

  She cut in, “That’s enough. I’ll see you when you get here.”

  With that, she dropped her link. Well, if there’s gonna be friction, best to find out early. I looked around and saw fire guys rolling hoses. A truck left the scene. I called their base for a sitrep. No more fire.

  Lifting away, I headed for the house, where I made a fresh coffee and took a seat on the back patio. The day was warm and sunny and I didn’t have to be anywhere else. I toed a plastic milk carton out from under the table and put my feet up, then sipped.

  Two squirrels squabbled over something on a branch above the back fence. A raven sat preening itself in a nearby tree. A few cars went by on Northcliffe. Something flashed in a car parked half a block away on Chase. I sent a probe.