"Hello,” said Steph, extending a hand.
Taking her hand briefly, Vonda glanced at each of the ladies, then turned her gaze to me.
"Are you cops?"
Shaking my head, I said, “No, not cops, either. We're just friends who sometimes go out together."
"Then what was she doing outside? Why didn't she come in with you?"
"She was busy elsewhere. She just got here."
Looking vastly skeptical, Vonda asked, “And you somehow knew that? How? A radio?"
"Vonda, can you keep a secret?"
Shrugging, she said, “That depends."
Sighing, Sue said, “Forget it, Ed. We don't want publicity; we just want a place where we can dance and have a few drinks, and we can look elsewhere for that."
Vonda's eyebrow went up again and she said, “Not around this town, you can't. The next piano bar is fifty miles away."
Sue said, “No problem. We can be there in two minutes."
"Yeah,” I said, “And you'll tip some other jerk's beer and we'll go through the same routine there. What do you think? Should we tell her and maybe be able to come back here without people thinking you're call girls?"
Steph smiled and said, “That would be nice, I suppose."
Sue shrugged and said, “It's up to you, Ed."
"You ladies are a helluva lot of help sometimes."
As Sue laughed softly and Steph smiled, I turned to Vonda and said, “They aren't quite human, Vonda. Ladies, switch places, please."
Even as Vonda glanced at Steph, Steph vanished and Sue filled her chair. Vonda jerked in startlement and turned her head to the right. The ladies switched places again and Vonda again saw Sue.
Vonda froze and scooted her chair back, then almost whispered, “Do that again while I can see you both."
They did. Vonda's mouth fell open and her wide eyes stared first at Sue, then at Steph, who smilingly passed her hand and arm through the center of the table, the candle, and a drink before she vanished completely for a couple of seconds, then reappeared.
For a moment I thought Vonda would shriek, faint, or scream, but she closed her eyes, gathered herself, and sat very still for nearly ten seconds as she breathed deeply. When she opened her eyes, she glanced at each of us in turn, slid her chair forward, and took a big sip of her drink.
"This is real, isn't it?” she asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.
"Yup,” I said. “You and I are the only human beings at this table, Vonda. Steph and Sue are field-generated images that belong to their respective computers."
"C ... computers? Images? But I touched them."
"Yup. But they're still essentially images and they don't moonlight as hookers."
Vonda stared at me for a moment, then stifled an almost hysterical giggle.
"Oh, God,” she muttered, looking at Steph, “I'm sorry. I saw you ... and you, Sue, and I thought ... Oh, hell, I thought ... And then she called herself an assistant! Oh, God..."
"She is my assistant,” I said.
"But ... You go dancing with your computer?!"
"Why not? My girlfriend doesn't mind."
That made Vonda give a yelp of laughter that turned some heads and made the bartender pay serious attention to our table for some moments. Vonda raised a hand and waved it back and forth and the bartender relaxed visibly.
With more than a little astonishment, Vonda asked, “Your girlfriend doesn't mind?! Computers that look like these, I mean? Are you absolutely sure about that?"
"Yup. Selena's known Steph for three years or so and she's met Sue. If there was a problem, she'd have said something before now; she's not what anyone would call shy."
Vonda eyed me for a moment, then looked at Steph, who nodded and said, “Agreed. Selena isn't shy at all."
"So,” I concluded, “Can we come back in here now and then without being the center of attention?"
Glancing at Steph and Sue, Vonda said, “If you come in with these ... ladies ... I seriously doubt it. There aren't half a dozen women in this town who can match them for looks."
"We can deal with that."
With a grinning shrug, Vonda said, “Well, then, sure."
One of the waitresses came to the table to whisper in Vonda's ear. Vonda nodded, then said, “Sorry. Duty calls,” and rose from the table. I rose with her. After another long look at the three of us, she said, “After I make some change for the bar, I'll have to put in some more time on the piano. It's been interesting. Will you be here when I finish my next set?"
"I expect so,” I said. “You're the reason we came here."
Vonda smiled and signaled the bartender by circling her finger over our table, then headed for the bar.
Chapter Sixty-eight
After the waitress delivered another Morgan and Coke for me and two ginger ales for Steph and Sue, Steph asked why I brought Sue to Vonda's Place.
When I gave her a blank look and said, “Spur of the moment. A place to go, a thing to do,” she raised an eyebrow.
"I'd expected you to have a little difficulty accepting Sue after what happened."
Shrugging, I said, “Guess not. We talked a bit after you left. Things seem fine now."
"Just like that?"
"Yup. Just like that. I had reservations at first, but they faded out fairly quickly."
"Do you have any idea why?"
"Nope. Not really. My gut thinks she's okay now, so I'm going with it."
Smiling slightly, Steph asked, “Isn't that a rather imprecise way of evaluating matters?"
Nodding, I agreed, “Yup. Very imprecise. On the other hand, it's always been right a lot more often than not. Since I don't know spit about Amaran programming, I don't really have much else to go on."
"My understanding is that a person's ‘gut’ represents their subconscious mind, Ed. Is that what alerted you to Sue's eyes earlier?"
"It spotted the anomaly and told me to figure out what was wrong with her eyes, yes. It didn't go into any detail, though. At other times, it's told me not to take a certain trail or not to cross a stream at a certain spot. Sometimes it sends up warning flags about people, places, or things that may seem unfounded at first, but the warnings almost always turn out to have been worthwhile."
Motion behind Sue caught my attention. Vonda was heading back to the piano. More motion to my left. A guy in his forties was approaching our table.
"Good evening,” he said as he approached. “I'm George Everett. Our Vonda is about to play again and I was wondering if either of you strikingly lovely ladies would honor me with a dance or two."
Although his invitation had included both ladies, his gaze tended to spend more time on Sue. He sounded British and didn't appear to have had too many drinks already. No ‘excuse me’ or ‘pardon me', but a polite and friendly attitude, and he'd said ‘our Vonda', which seemed to indicate that he was a regular in the pub, not that it mattered.
To me, he said, “If you don't mind, of course,” in the manner of an afterthought.
When I looked at Vonda and she smiled, which meant that she was expecting no difficulties, then I nodded and said, “No, I don't mind. It's entirely up to the ladies. This is Susanne and this is Stephanie. I'm Ed."
Sue had also noticed that his interest seemed to be in her. With a glance at me, she stood up and extended a hand. He grinningly walked with her to the dance floor.
"How about you?” I asked Steph. “Care to dance, milady?"
"Oh, I wouldn't mind,” she said. “What does your gut tell you about Mr. Everett?"
I glanced at Everett. His attention seemed riveted on Sue's eyes as they danced.
"Nothing much,” I said. “He seems okay. Why? Do you know something I don't?"
"No,” she said with a smile. “I was just curious."
We danced through four songs, then we headed back to the table and I seated Steph, then joined her at the table and sipped my drink as I watched Sue and George.
The song was one that ins
pired close dancing, and Sue's chin almost rested on George's shoulder throughout most of the number. As they turned, I saw George's eyes flick around the room, then meet mine. A gap of sorts formed between him and Sue, and I realized that he thought I might disapprove.
Switching my gaze to Steph, I asked, “Do you have any reservations about my subbing Sue out to Volunteer Services?"
Shaking her head, Steph said, “No. Not now."
"But you did?"
"Yes, when I thought you might simply be trying to get rid of her. I was concerned about how she'd react to that level of rejection. I was also concerned that you might be reacting to feeling a degree of rejection by me—knowingly or not."
Shaking my own head, I said, “Not rejection. I had a sense of abandonment at first, but that didn't last longer than our first few contacts after your emancipation.” Placing a hand on hers, I said, “You didn't really leave, Steph, and for that I'm so glad I can't tell you in words."
"You told me, Ed,” she said. “When Linda asked if you love me, you said ‘Yes, I do'. I believe I feel the same way about you. Why is love so hard to quantify and define?"
"Hm. Good luck with that one, milady. I don't have an answer. It just seems to come into existence at some point, then it piles up until you become aware of it."
George and Sue headed back to our table, and on the way, George signaled a waitress, who nodded. That served to further bolster my impression that he was a regular, and again I wondered why it mattered to me, then I realized that some part of me was simply being cautious for Sue's sake.
That realization put my thoughts on yet another course as George seated Sue, then tapped the other empty chair and asked, “Would you mind if I join you?"
I glanced around the table and said, “No, have a seat,” after both Steph and Sue gave no indication of objections.
As the waitress set his drink on the table, George gave her a five and told her to keep the change from a three dollar drink. His usual sort of tip, or was he trying to appear generous?
After some conversation in which George told us that he was a widower who had come to Spring Hill to visit some friends who'd retired here, he asked how we'd come to be here.
"I retired here,” I said, handing him one of my business cards. “I'm an author and I have a couple of businesses on the internet. Stephanie was my assistant until just recently. Now Sue fills that role."
"Assistant?” asked George. He turned to Sue and asked, “What do you actually do? Research?"
"Among other things,” she said. “Most of Ed's books contain references to historical events from within the last thirty years or so. He prefers that his memories of such events are accurate before he changes peoples’ names to avoid lawsuits."
Turning a raised eyebrow toward me, George said, “I see."
I said, “Yeah, they're mostly just memoirs. Sometimes I'll turn a warehouse into a space station and call it science fiction. Other times I just record my past participations and change the names of everyone involved."
"Is that really enough? Don't some people recognize themselves in your writings?"
Nodding, I said, “Some have. None of them have sued me, though, and some of those involved have contributed to the books. My titles ‘Anne’ and ‘Mindy', for example; both women wanted in on the writing and the editing, and I think their input did the sex scenes a lot of good. They didn't feel quite so raw after the ladies reworked them."
"I suppose they wouldn't,” said George. “Women have a gentler touch with such things, as a rule. I'll be returning to Brighton tomorrow. I'll look up your site when I get home."
Vonda dropped by the table during her next break. George found her a chair and we chatted for a bit, then she said that she sometimes envied her customers in that they could dance while she was stuck at the piano.
Steph said, “No problem. Tell me which titles you'd like me to play and I'll lend you Ed."
"You play the piano?"
I laughingly said, “She wouldn't offer otherwise, ma'am. Name those tunes and I'll see if I can avoid your toes."
"Indeed,” said George. “If he can't, I can. I never realized that the life of an entertainer was one of such drudgery."
With some reluctance, Vonda finally agreed to let Steph take her place at the piano and named three songs. Steph smiled and nodded, then rose from the table.
George again danced with Sue and I danced with Vonda. Three songs later, Sue took a seat at the piano and played another three songs as Vonda danced with George and Steph danced with me.
All in all, it was a good evening that ended only when we all met at the local Denny's for a very early ‘breakfast’ that concluded around three in the morning.
When I woke at seven-thirty, I swilled some coffee and fed myself lightly with a can of chicken soup, then called Sue to send a copy of herself with me to Bost Automotive.
She appeared as I was shaving. I looked her up and down, appreciating her from toes to nose in her shorts and tee-shirt as she leaned on the doorframe.
I asked, “Did you have a good time last night?"
Nodding, she said, “Yes, I did. Did you?"
"Yup. That was the first time I'd ever talked to Vonda. If she shows enough interest, I may ask her out sometime."
Sue's expression in the mirror was innocent as she asked, “Isn't Vonda just a little old for you, Ed? Let's see; Selena, Toni, Dana, Lissa ... Your last four girlfriends have all been under thirty, haven't they?"
I sighed and said, “See? They didn't take out anything important yesterday. You're as snotty as ever, flitter girl."
Laughing softly, Sue disappeared. I heard noises in the kitchen, and when I finished in the bathroom, I found my mug full of coffee on the kitchen counter.
"Try it before you say anything,” said Sue.
I did. It was about right and I nodded as I sipped again. We boarded the flitter and arrived at Bost just as one of the guys was priming the engine for a test run. We stayed aboard the flitter and hovered above the scene.
The engine balked a bit at first, then fired up and smoothed out after a minute. As the guy listened to it, I asked Sue if she could spot any problems with it. She shook her head.
"No. It's well within acceptable parameters."
"Thanks. Now let's see if we can get a discount for pulling the parts ourselves."
Chuck and the other guy were about to pressure-check the engine as the flitter lifted and Sue and I appeared in the parking lot between them and the car.
After their initial shock had abated, I told them that Sue had already checked the engine and it had passed. Chuck gave us an ‘are you nuts?’ look and said, “Uh, huh. Right,” as he shoved a chain hoist toward the car.
"Sue,” I said, “Pull that engine, please."
"No problem,” she said with a grin.
Nuts and bolts began spinning off and out of the car and the radiator cap popped up to release pressure as the two main radiator hoses disconnected and floated to join the nuts and bolts. Chuck simply stared; the other guy crossed himself and muttered something.
The hood of the car lifted off and settled beside it, then some more bolts floated out of the engine compartment.
Sue chuckled at their reactions when the air-conditioning system separated itself and settled gently to the ground. She then pulled two more bolts and lifted the 350 engine out of the engine compartment.
The engine hovered above the asphalt for a moment before Sue turned to Chuck and said, “This really shouldn't sit on the ground. I'll put it in the hoist until we're ready for it."
He just stared at her and nodded rather dumbly for a moment, then turned to me.
"Ed, how did she do that?"
"It's a kind of Amaran magic, Chuck. There's some science involved, but it's still a kind of magic. If we do the engine swapout, will you cut us a deal? No muss, no fuss, and you get to work on something else this morning. How does three hundred sound to you?"
Chuck seemed spellbound for a
moment as he stared at Sue and the engine in his hoist, then he turned to me.
"Uh ... Well ... How does five—that's almost half price—how does that sound to you, Ed?"
"Kinda high. You paid about a hundred for the car if you didn't actually charge someone to haul it off, Chuck. You've already sold the tranny out of it, so you've made about five hundred so far. The battery, tires, stereo, taillights, and everything else will bring in another few hundred. Three hundred for the engine wouldn't hurt you at all, plus you get to charge someone else for the other work you'll do this morning."
His gaze returned to Sue. She smiled and gave the engine a little pat, then vanished and reappeared next to me. When Chuck turned to me and saw Sue, his eyes bugged a bit.
"Uh, yeah. Yeah. Three hundred. Okay,” he said softly, then his voice firmed up and he said, “But no warranty if we don't do the work."
"Good enough,” I said.
Sue then lifted the hood off my Olds and began the same procedure to remove the engine. Both mechanics stood watching in almost total silence as my old engine and air-conditioning system floated to the other car and settled to the ground beside it.
The new engine lifted out of the hoist and into the engine compartment of my car and Sue installed it, then she started it and let it run for thirty seconds or so. She then installed the air-conditioning system. The entire procedure took all of perhaps ten minutes.
"This would be a good time to replace fluids,” said Sue.
Chuck stared at her for a moment, seemed to shake himself a bit, and then told the other guy to move the car into the bay.
The other guy nodded, but didn't move. Chuck slapped his shoulder lightly and said, “Now,” and the guy seemed to get himself organized. He nodded again and almost ran to the car, then started it and slid it into one of the repair bays as Chuck walked alongside it.
"Sue,” I said, “That was one helluva show for these guys. Thank you, milady."
A few minutes later we stood waiting as Chuck made out a receipt for the engine. He cleared his throat and looked at Sue for a moment, seemed to think about something, then cleared his throat again as he handed me the receipt.
Book 4: 3rd World Products, Inc. Page 61
