3rd World Products, Inc., Book 3

by Ed Howdershelt

  "You inferred that I don't completely have free will. If you're correct, I can't consider myself ready to declare myself a real person yet."

  "By whose standards, lady? Personal restrictions are as common as dirt, Steph. I don't think anyone is totally free in that regard. Some people lean on the ten commandments. Others rely on various laws. You have your programming. All were written by someone else and handed out, so they're all just about the same damned thing, even if they offer different values and interpretations."

  "Perhaps so. What are your personal restrictions, Ed?"

  "They're generally the same ones the majority of people use. Harm none and do as you will otherwise. Exceptions include self-defense and the defense of others."

  "How does freezing a man's hand -- after his gun was empty -- to cause him to be shot fit into that philosophy, Ed?"

  "I was officially trying to jam the gun and I'll swear to that if necessary. Steph, an hypothesis, here; if you let a vicious dog get past you, will it bite someone?"

  "Possibly, but I'd contain it and turn it over to the authorities."

  "Wonderful. You know they'd kill it, Steph. How would you feel about that?"

  "Regretful, of course, but I'd have no control over..."

  "Yeah, right. Just following the rules and all that. Now make the dog a human. They don't execute most criminals anymore, so he'd either wind up a prisoner or a mental patient. Seventy-plus percent of all crime is perpetrated by repeat offenders, Steph. That means that the system is letting many of these people back out onto the streets uncured, unrepentant, and uncorrected. Still vicious. Still a danger. Exactly what the system was meant to prevent. I call that a system failure, don't you?"

  "I suppose so, but such a system failure requires repair, not circumvention."

  "Repair of deliberately convoluted and complex systems requires very competent technicians, Steph. Who are the techs for the justice system?"

  "Obviously those who make and modify laws."

  "Lawyers, right? Mostly lawyers who have become politicians and judges in their later years, right?"

  "I suppose so."

  "Do they seem like competent repair techs to you, or do they seem to be slapping layer after layer of complexity on already complex laws and making new laws that overlap and often countermand older laws? More importantly, who stands to lose the most if the crime rate drops, Steph? What single industry would most suffer a lack of employment and cash flow?"

  "You're making your answer very obvious, Ed. That's extremely simplistic thinking."

  "Maybe so, but do you see anyone acting to repair the system or locking any but the absolute worst offenders or the politically incorrect up for life? Sure, there are some real nasties in permanent residence in prisons, but there are also people serving mandatory life sentences for no more than a few marijuana joints. That's due to reactionary drug laws created in response to manufactured public hysteria. They'll be in prison forever while others get out after eight years or so who have raped, robbed, murdered, or maimed someone. Where's the logic in that?"

  "As you said, the system is imperfect, but it is the legally available solution."

  "That's the party line, Steph. A system that doesn't accomplish its purpose isn't a solution; it's just a means of perpetuating the problem. When a person commits a murder, who makes money from the trial and incarceration? Not the victim or the victim's family. Not the criminal. Not the taxpayers. Only lawyers and the companies who run prisons make money. The US justice system depends more on billable hours and baffling bullshit than the true principles of justice. If you really want to get rid of crime, you simply get the criminals off the streets and keep them off. You don't install a revolving door in the jailhouse."

  "Still, Ed, it isn't right to engineer highly questionable extralegal eliminations based only on your own judgments."

  "Highly questionable? Did he try to kill me? Did he try real hard and fairly often, in fact? How many rounds did he fire, Steph?"

  "But your final action can hardly be considered self defense. He was no longer shooting at you. He was out of ammunition."

  "Would he have tried to kill others he may have decided were Amarans?"

  "There's no way to know that for certain, Ed. His encounter with you might have convinced him that such attempts would be futile."

  "Oh, gee, golly! Try again, Steph. You were there, too, so can the crap. Yes or no?"

  "It... It does seem likely that he would have tried again."

  "Damned right. Very likely, given his motives. Is there any chance of that now?"

  "No. Your solution was quite effective. Is that what you wanted to hear, Ed?"

  "That's exactly what I want to hear, Steph. As often as necessary when things like that happen. Can you live with that or do you need out?"

  "Exactly what does your interpretation of 'out' entail, Ed?"

  I shrugged. "Disassociation. You go your way and I go mine. You're experienced enough to make it alone now, and you'll live long enough to make your own mistakes and learn from them if you switch yourself to a shell that uses broadcast power. Say something nice about me to someone a thousand years from now, okay? Tell 'em you used to know a guy who'd spit in the devil's face."

  Stephie's voice held a smile as she said, "You've often told me that you don't believe in devils, Ed."

  "Yeah, well, that's why I can say stuff like that. Might feel differently otherwise."

  When I glanced forward, Barbara was looking at me. I gave her a 'what's up?' look and she rose from her seat, then approached me.

  "Stephanie's been sitting as still as a statue," she said, "And you've been standing back here talking to yourself. Is everything all right?"

  I looked over the side for a moment, then said, "Yup. We're still in the air and we're still moving." Without looking to the front of the flitter, I very softly whispered, "What's our ETA, Steph? Come back here and tell me for Barb's benefit."

  Stephie rose from her seat and came back to join us. In the same low tone I'd used, she smilingly said, "Six minutes, twenty seconds, Ed. Is it a secret?"

  Barbara snickered, then laughed. "I see," she said, "I hope you weren't talking about me all that time."

  "Nope. We were discussing the failings of the criminal justice system."

  Barb gave me a wry look and said, "Okay, so don't tell me what you were talking about. I just wanted to see if you were okay back here."

  "Actually," said Steph, "The justice system is precisely what we were discussing."

  I shrugged. "Yeah. Sorry. We can talk about you next time, if you want. 'Course, we'd need more info for a real discussion."

  Barbara shook her head and said, "No, no, that's all right. There isn't much to tell about me, anyway, that isn't already pretty well known. Hell, my security check at 3rd World came back in about ten minutes, I think."

  I laughed. "That only means that whatever they found wouldn't interfere with getting the job done. They're like that at 3rd World."

  She nodded and said, "Glad to hear it. Tell me something, Ed. In the office, you raved about Stephanie's figure, but when I caught you looking at my legs a while ago, you only apologized. I was wondering why?"

  Whoops! Shields up! Trick questions ahead!

  "You want a straight answer, no games or bullshit, right?"

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Barbara's gaze narrowed slightly as she said, "Yes, a straight answer would be nice."

  I glanced at Steph and said, "We know you're a lesbian, Barb. I thought you might be offended if I said anything about your legs, even as nice as they are."

  She looked pretty startled. Actually, she was kind of pretty, anyway.

  "But... But I only told Linda just this morning. How did you know?"

  Uh, oh. Quick. Find an answer that works without involving Linda.

  "Remember when you met Steph in your office, Barbara? Your pupils widened the way mens' pupils widen when they see her. Instant appreciation and desire."
/>   Barb peered at me sharply and asked, "You're serious?"

  "Tell me I'm wrong, ma'am. You don't look at me that way, you didn't look that way at any man today, and I'll bet money that you took a good, long look at Linda."

  She gaped at me for a moment, then said, "I... Yes, well, I think I'll invest in some sunglasses very soon. Thank you for telling me. And thanks for... Well, just thanks, okay? I'm an MD. I should have realized..."

  "Doctors frequently forget that they're human, too. No sweat."

  Barbara gave a startled little snort of a chuckle and asked, "Oh, you think you know about doctors, too?"

  "Sure. Used to be an Army medic. I met lots of doctors back then. They all tended to be humble servant types or egomaniacs. The men, anyway. There weren't many women doctors where I was."

  "Where was that?"

  "War zones. And when women did show up around a base, the officers grabbed 'em as soon as they got there."

  "I know what you mean," she said, "I was in the Army, too. As a doctor and a woman."

  "Yeah, I know. I scanned your basic info on the way to your office."

  She didn't seem thrilled by that revelation.

  "Tell you what," I said, "I'll trade you. You can read some of mine on the way in. Steph, how about putting the stuff she's classed for on a screen?"

  Steph already had a screen in the air near us when Barbara said, "No, that won't be necessary, Ed. I know it was just part of the recruiting job."

  "Rats," I said. "You're missing a chance to be really impressed, lady. You sure you don't want just a quick peek?"

  Barb laughed and shook her head. "Maybe another time. Ed, why is it you seem to make me laugh so often?"

  "Truth again?" I asked. "No bullshit?"

  She sighed and said, "Sure. No bullshit. Go ahead."

  "I like pleasing women. It feels good."

  Barbara blinked at me once and seemed to step back a pace inside herself without moving or changing her expression.

  "Relax," I said. "That wasn't a pass, Dr. Legs."

  "You read minds, too?"

  "No, he doesn't," said Steph.

  "Sure he does," I said. "Body language, anyway. Whatever works, I say. Just don't get spooky on me, okay, Barbara? You asked and I told you and we can leave it at that. Recognize those buildings down there?"

  I pointed down and ahead of us.

  "The campus!" she blurted.

  "Yup. Want off at your office or at your car?"

  "I called in earlier, but I should probably check in, too. Joey will be in a panic."

  "Yeah, he seemed capable of that. Want me to come in with you in case anybody gives you a hard time about being late by a few hours?"

  She looked at me for a moment, then said, "Actually, yes, since I can't conveniently tell them where I've been all day. Come in for a coffee, both of you. And maybe you could leave this flitter parked right outside the front doors?"

  Steph said, "No problem. If it's a no-parking zone, I'll make the flitter hover ten feet off the ground."

  "Fifteen, Steph. They have a basketball team here. Make 'em work for it."

  Barbara grinned at me and said, "You weren't kidding, were you?"

  I shrugged. "Nope. Gimme a giggle and I'm set for a while."

  She giggled, then said she couldn't remember the last time she'd done that. As we entered the building, I suggested that Steph make herself only semi-tangible so the guard would have trouble pinning a badge on her. Barbara rolled her eyes and shook her head, then led the way to the guard station. The guard clipped a visitor's badge on each of us, even though Steph didn't have any ID to show him.

  He said, "She's with you, Dr. Breen. That's good enough, but you're responsible for her."

  Barbara thanked him and led us to her office. The door was locked, so she used her key to let us in. Ol' Joey was asleep with his head on his desk. When the door closed and latched, his head came up quickly and he tried to focus on us.

  Apparently Steph and I registered before Barbara's raised hands and "Hello, Joey," greeting. Joey screeched like a schoolgirl and almost fell over trying to get out of his chair. I readied my stunner on general principles, but Barb calmed him enough after a few moments that he was able to relate the day's events in the office.

  "Joey," she said, "You have to look for another job, sweetie. I'll give you a good reference and talk to some people for you, but I'm leaving in a few weeks."

  Joey's hysterical reaction to that news caused me to give him a quarter stun to quiet him. He seemed almost like a normal person as they discussed his immediate future. When something she said made him start toward hysteria again, I zapped him again lightly. A few minutes later, he was calmly heading out of the office with a smile that would last maybe fifteen minutes or so.

  "I think I'd like one of those things," said Barbara. "It would be a great classroom tool."

  I said, "Unless you want to be here when he comes screaming back down the hall in fifteen minutes, you might want to grab your stuff and get moving. If you aren't here, he'll have all night to think about things."

  "Good point," she said. "I'll fax these things to Linda when I get home."

  She grabbed some papers and books and tossed them into a briefcase and a cloth bag, then led us out of there. The guard made some mildly-amazed comment about Joey as we passed. It seemed that he'd never seen Joey so composed. He even wondered aloud if Joey was maybe on tranquilizers. Barb said she didn't think so as we turned in our badges, but the guard still seemed dubious.

  If someone can park close to a building on a campus, they're usually a somebody on that campus. Barbara's car was only a few slots from the end on the first row. That, to me, meant that she was giving up something at the college in order to join 3rd World. I was somewhat impressed that she'd been able to make the decision during a two hour discussion that morning, but then I remembered that 3rd World Products, Inc. has a tendency to pay people very well, indeed, and not just in dollars per month.

  Barbara hesitated before getting into her car, then she surprised me completely with a hug instead of a handshake.

  "Thanks," she said. "It was the kind of day I'll remember forever. We don't get enough of the good kinds of days like that, and this was one of those."

  "Anytime," I said. "Linda has my number."

  "I probably won't risk it," said Barb. "I've been pretty happy as a lesbian."

  I gave her a 'one that got away' snap of the fingers and looked disappointed. She chuckled skeptically and got in her car. Just to tweak her a little, I locked my eyes on her legs as she got into the car and said, "Nice legs, Doc."

  She gave me an odd look, then a grin, and said, "Uh, huh. Thanks, Ed. Bye."

  Ten minutes or so later Steph and I were descending toward my house in Spring Hill. Another fifteen minutes passed before I had a fresh coffee, Monday's mail, a seat on the couch, and Tiger on my lap. About the time I was trashing the last high-interest home loan offer with a local car lot's offer to give me '$4000 in trade, no matter what I currently drove', Steph fielded a call from Linda and patched it into my implant.

  "Hi, Linda. Is the sailor running for the hills yet? I told him a few things about you."

  "No, he isn't, and I've told him a few things about you, too. He's currently rooting through your file, in fact."

  "Damn. I'll have to remind him not to salute, now."

  Linda said, "Sure, mister. I'd pay to see that happen. Well, Ed, you just received a glowing review from a confirmed lesbian. That's something that a man can almost take to a bank and cash, you know. I think I may actually be impressed."

  "Just impressed? Not jealous? Rats. Oh, well, you ordered me to behave myself, ma'am. I guess I owe it all to you."

  "Yeah, right. Here's an update on One Earth, Ed; the cops in Grand Forks think they've found a warehouse where the virus has been manufactured. They're ramping up for a raid."

  "Kewl. Estimated casualties if the virus is still there and gets loose?"

  She s
ighed. "Based on the sample Stephie retrieved, we're guessing big numbers, Ed. Big numbers. Containment could be a big problem, too, especially if the place is rigged to blow, and the cops seem to think it could be."

  "What do we know about the virus, Linda?"

  "It kills in about four hours, Ed. It's an Ebola mutation."

  "How the hell does anyone know it kills in four hours? We haven't had the sample that long... Oh, hell, that's just a lab rat's best guess, right?"

  "Right, but a guess backed by some tests."

  "Fast or slow, same ending. How big a building is it, Linda?"

  "It isn't the whole building that we're concerned with," she said, "Just the Western corner of the top floor. We think. Actually, they think. I'm not trusting the intel on this one, Ed. It's all hearsay. Nobody has anyone on the inside."

  "I need to know how big an area we're talking about, Linda."

  Puzzlement was strong in her voice. "Why, Ed?"

  "Just a minute and I'll tell you what I've got in mind. Steph and Elkor, at normal air pressure, how much area can our diving field handle?"

  Linda asked, "Diving field? Oh, hell. Why not? There's one for everything else."

  Elkor said, "Presuming that you wish to contain and eliminate nothing larger than a virus in an urban environment and using reference measurements that will be immediately understandable by all persons involved, my field could safely contain up to four city blocks, Ed. That would include all buildings of four stories or less in height."

  "Wow. Damn. Thanks, Elkor. Did you patch that info to Linda?"

  Linda said, "He did, Ed. Wow, indeed. What the hell have you people been doing that requires a field this size?"

  "It isn't quite that big when it's at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. The water crunches it down some."

  "I suppose it would. Still, that's a hell of a field, isn't it?"

  "Just like Elkor's flitters. Better than they have to be. I can zip in and set the generator up on top of the warehouse. We can shape the field a bit and enclose only that building. Sound good so far?"

  "It sounds wonderful! Will it stop people, too, or just germs?"

  I asked, "Elkor? What about that?"