Book 5: 3rd World Products, Inc.

by Ed Howdershelt

  "This is just marvelous!” she happily enthused as we joined her, “I've never seen one like this!"

  "Glad you like it,” I replied, “But that isn't the flitter."

  She turned to give me a puzzled look. “What?"

  "That isn't the flitter,” I repeated. “Flitter, put your shields down, please."

  When the apparently-stainless steel barrier field winked out of existence, Joan was left staring at the actual flitter almost three feet farther away, where Rhonda was sitting with Tiger.

  Joan's gaze swept the flat deck, six seats and console, and the two women aboard, then settled on Tiger, who'd taken his usual place on the small dashboard.

  "A cat?” asked Joan.

  "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's what he is,” I said, stepping onto the deck and turning to lend her a hand. Joan took my hand and stepped up as Wexler hopped aboard.

  I turned and said to Sue and Rhonda, “Sue, Detective Marlin; meet Joan and Dick. They were in the restaurant."

  As everybody shook hands I asked Sue, “Where's Steph?"

  "Elsewhere,” she said, with no further explanation.

  Nodding understandingly, I asked, “How'd Rhonda make out with Gladstone?"

  "Very well, I think. Gladstone spoke to Linda. You're to take Rhonda to Carrington base, where she'll be issued a stunner and some quick training."

  "Oh, wow,” I said, turning to Rhonda, “You talked her into a freebie, huh?"

  Grinning, Rhonda said, “Not exactly. My department's been ... slow ... to accept them. I'm being issued a stunner for ninety days in an effort to open their minds a bit."

  "Sounds good. Ready to go?"

  "I can be ready in five. Be right back."

  Rhonda didn't wait to be offered my hand; she gave Tiger a quick pat, then hopped down and headed for the restaurant at a brisk march step.

  Apparently feeling bereft and neglected, Tiger looked at Joan meaningfully, but she was busy taking in the flitter. When he nosed her dangling hand, she squeaked, then apologized.

  "Oh, I'm sorry, kitty! I didn't mean to startle you."

  Tiger looked at me as if to ask where the hell I'd found this one, then he looked at Joan and said, “I not kitty. I Tiger. I not startled. You startled. I sorry startle you."

  Joan froze solid and stared at him. Wexler's eyebrows went up as he gave me a sharp look. Tiger sat down and waited for someone to say something.

  "Sue,” I said, “Is that the best his translator can do? He sounds as if he just got off the boat from Cameroon."

  "I talk good,” insisted Tiger. “Not Cam ... where."

  "Yes, you do ‘speak well', Tiger. But I think things could be just a little better. You sound like a foreigner who's still learning English, and your translator's supposed to know the language. I want you to sound as smart as you are, okay?"

  He seemed to give that some thought before he replied, “Yes. Sound smart good. Thank you, Ed."

  "You're welcome, friend Tiger.” To Sue, I asked, “Well, milady? Is it fixable?"

  Nodding, she said, “I'll allocate some more memory and work on it while we wait for Detective Marlin. It shouldn't be much of a problem."

  Taking her hand, I said, “Thank you, milady. Have I called you a gorgeous goddess today?"

  Rolling her eyes, she answered, “No, you haven't."

  "Well, then, you're a gorgeous goddess, ma'am. A captivating creature of magic. Right, Tiger?"

  He simply said, “Yes,” then looked at Joan again.

  Manufacturing a sigh, Sue said, “Oh, thank you both so much. Need I remind you that you have guests?"

  "Nah. I'll get back to them sooner or later."

  Turning to face Wexler and Joan with a grin, I asked, “The talking cat kind of got to you, huh?"

  Wexler simply looked at me as if I was nuts. Joan started to say something, then froze again, this time with her mouth open. Wexler's expression matched hers.

  "Ah...” began Wexler, “Uh ... Sue..? She, uh, disappeared."

  With a shrug, I said, “She does that sometimes."

  He raised a hand slightly in protest. “But..."

  Sipping coffee, I tried to look moderately inquisitive as I asked, “But what?"

  "But ... People don't ... people don't just disappear."

  "Sue does."

  Joan jarred his elbow with hers and muttered, “He's playing with us, Dick. They both are."

  "Wrong,” I said. “I might be, but Sue isn't. She had a place to go and a thing to do.” Gesturing at Tiger, I asked, “Are you going to pay some attention to Tiger?"

  "Yes, please,” said Tiger, leaning as far forward over the edge of the seat toward Joan's hand as he could manage.

  Looking down at his teetering attempt to reach her hand, Joan bit back a chuckle and sat down with him.

  "Yes,” she said to Tiger as she patted him, “I'm going to pay some attention to the kitty."

  Pausing as he stepped from his seat to her lap, Tiger said, “Not kitty. Tiger.” He then finished traversing the gap and stood nose-to-nose with her as he said, “You smell good."

  Wexler gave me a glance. “He really talks?"

  Nodding, I answered, “He really talks."

  Shaking his head, Wexler muttered, “Well, damn."

  Rhonda appeared in the restaurant doorway and turned to say something to someone, then hurried toward the flitter.

  Turning to Joan and Dick, I asked, “Are either of you any good with your stun wands? She's about to get one. Could be some coaching would be helpful."

  "Would it be on the clock?” asked Wexler.

  "Damned if I know,” I said. “Probably not, but you'd make a friend in the local PD and earn some points with your own brass, right?"

  As Rhonda reached the flitter and hopped aboard, Joan looked up from stroking Tiger and said, “It can be hard to get the conceptualizing part of it right the first few times, but once she's past that she'll do fine. Everybody does."

  Looking at Rhonda, she said, “If you want some help learning to use your stun wand, I'll work with you."

  Wexler shrugged and gave me a wry little grin as he said, “Me, too. There's nothing to it, really, but making that first connection with it can be a trick."

  "Thank you,” said Rhonda, “Both of you. I appreciate the offer.” Turning to me, she said, “Ready to go."

  Joan put Tiger on the next seat and stood up, saying, “Well, thanks for letting us come aboard. I've really enjoyed..."

  "You aren't coming along?” I asked.

  Glancing at Wexler, Joan asked, “You wouldn't mind?"

  "No problem,” I said, thumbing at Rhonda, “I'll be bringing her back here, anyway. Everybody sit down and buckle up."

  Rhonda glanced around before saying, “Uh, but there aren't any seat belts."

  "Nope.” Facing forward, I said, “Flitter, back to Carrington base, please."

  The flitter launched us into motion at barely subsonic speed. I heard a small shriek behind me as the dozen or so miles to Carrington zipped by in only seconds.

  We settled next to the front entrance as before. I sipped my coffee to give everyone time to regroup, set my mug on the deck by the console, then hopped off the flitter to give Rhonda and Joan a hand down.

  Instead, I wound up with Tiger, who jumped into my arms and asked, “Are we going to see Linda?"

  "That came out well. Sue must have touched up your translator already. If Linda's not too busy, we'll stop in and visit with her. Good?"

  "Okay. I like Linda."

  None of the others aboard had more than stood up to stare around. I keyed my implant to activate the console and sent a field tendril to press Linda's icon.

  She glanced around the flitter before answering, “Yes, Ed."

  "Ma'am, are you too busy for some company?"

  "No, I was about to wrap things up for the day."

  "Got a few minutes for Tiger and me while Rhonda gets fitted for a wand? Oh, and Wexler and Humes have offered to coach he
r."

  "No objections. Sure, Ed, stop by. I've always got a few minutes for Tiger. Sometimes I even have time for you."

  "Gee, thanks, lady. Okay, see you in a few."

  Linda poked her ‘off’ icon. The others were on their feet, staring either at me or the now-blank console screen.

  I said, “Let's go, people. Hup, hup, and all that."

  Rhonda took my hand as she stepped off and gave me a very direct, questioning look without explaining it or asking me anything. Joan and Dick both hopped off the deck and stood as if waiting for me to take the lead.

  "Ed,” said Rhonda, “That screen didn't turn itself on. How did you do that?"

  "Magic.” I headed for the doors and the others followed.

  "I really want to know,” said Rhonda.

  "Sorry. You don't work for 3rd World."

  Just inside the doors, the guard—Tony Herse—checked our ID's and his notes and issued Rhonda a visitor's badge as I set Tiger down on his desk.

  He'd met Tiger before a few times, so when Tiger said, “Hello,” Tony replied, “Hi, there, Tiger. How you doin’ this evening, little fella?"

  "I'm ... okay,” said Tiger. “My ... English is better now?"

  "I'll say it is,” laughed Tony, “I'm from Brooklyn, so it may be better than mine."

  With a smug, happy look, Tiger replied, “Good. Thank you."

  Tony said, “Wait one,” and poked the number for Gladstone's office on his phone. “Detective Marlin is here,” he said, then, “Okay, ma'am. I'll tell her."

  Turning to us, he said, “Ms. Gladstone's on her way. She'll escort you to her office."

  "Tony,” I said, “Tiger and I are on our way to Linda's office. We'll catch up with everybody later."

  "Yes,” said Tiger, “We'll ... catch up. Goodbye? Yes."

  "Bye, bye, Tiger,” said Tony, giving him a little wave.

  Tiger must have been enjoying all the attention; he usually didn't say half a dozen words all day. Joan and Dick still seemed in awe of a talking cat. They simply stared at us as we turned to leave. Rhonda said, “Goodbye, Tiger,” with a grin.

  Hopping down to the floor, Tiger trotted alone on my left as we proceeded down the corridor.

  "You want me to carry you?” I asked.

  "No. Thank you."

  "Okay. Let me know if you get tired."

  "Okay."

  The sight of Tiger riding one of Elkor's platforms or walking through the corridors with me wasn't too strange to people at 3rd World after over three years of our occasional visits, but being spoken to by a cat was new to most of them.

  Perhaps a dozen people in the corridor received one of Tiger's “Hello” greetings on the way to Linda's office. Some apparently assumed I'd spoken and answered with a nod or a “Hi,” but only four seemed to realize they'd been greeted by a cat. Those four had all stopped and stared after us, which seemed to greatly amuse Tiger.

  Near Linda's door, I asked, “You like startling people, huh?"

  He instantly responded, “Yes."

  I double-tapped on Linda's door and opened it to enter the outer office. Her secretary had apparently already left and the door to her inner office was open.

  "Come on in,” she called, and Tiger and I proceeded past the secretary's desk to the doorway.

  Linda sat leaning her elbows on her desk, her hands clasped under her chin and a small baggie dangling from her fingers.

  "Hello, Tiger,” she said, and in an instant, Tiger was on her desk and sniffing the bag as he excitedly responded, “Hello, Linda! Hello! You have treats for me?"

  Laughing softly, Linda opened the bag.

  "Quick as a cat, as they say,” came a male voice from the sofa chair by the door. I looked to see Emory Wallace.

  "Hey, Cap. Khakis? That's pretty casual for you, isn't it?"

  "New rules. How come you haul that cat around with you?"

  As I watched Linda dole out a few of the treats, I said, “It's the kind of thing that has to be understood before an explanation would mean anything."

  He laughed, “Well, that's Zen if I ever heard it."

  One of the treats Linda shook out of the bag bounced oddly and fell off the desk. I sent a neon-blue tendril across the room to catch it and set it in front of Tiger.

  When the twelve-foot tendril snapped into being, Wallace unassed his chair and yelped, “What the hell..?!” as he stepped back a pace and stared.

  Linda muffled a snicker and said, “Thanks, Ed."

  Thanks for retrieving the tidbit or thanks for startling the hell out of Wallace? Or both? I didn't ask. Wallace didn't seem in a hurry to return to his seat. I found that entertaining.

  Bowing slightly, I said, “De nada, milady. It was nice of you to provide some refreshments."

  Sue's presence became noticeable in the room, but since she didn't make an appearance, I said nothing about it. I headed for Linda's coffee pot, poured a cup, and sent a cooling field into it for immediate drinkability. Linda resealed the bag and dropped it into her desk drawer.

  "You've had a busy last few days,” said Linda.

  "The Iranians and a bunch of other people had a busy last few days. I mostly just watched Sue do her thing."

  "You went in after the prisoners. You came up with the idea to use independent probes to search buildings."

  Sitting down in the other sofa chair, I put my coffee on the small table and said, “No. The ladies used probes in the bunker and probably just reused them in D.C. Steph or Sue would have suggested the building probes if I hadn't."

  "Shit,” muttered Wallace, “Why don't you just take a compliment for a change, Ed. We saw the vids. Two guys with rifles came at you in that cell.” He glanced at Linda, then added, “And since you're working with a supercomputer, I'd like to know how that happened."

  "Automation,” I said. “Calculated oversight."

  That made his eyes narrow a bit.

  He asked incredulously, “You think they were allowed to find you? By Sue and Stephanie?"

  Shaking my head slightly, I said, “Hell, no, Wallace. That's not what I said at all. When things like that happen to us, we call them ‘accidents’ and ‘circumstances'."

  "Us who? You mean people or ... or computers?"

  "Both,” I said, “Sue and Steph likely set some things in motion and expected them to complete their tasks. The stun probes, for instance. They're like cruise missiles. You basically wind ‘em up and let ‘em go and they follow preprogrammed instructions. If the players shift positions at just the right times, they can screw up the results."

  Speaking to the room in general, I asked, “Right, Sue?"

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Sue popped into being in the center of the room and replied, “Exactly so. Your two guards had been napping in a nearby cell, so their potential danger to the mission had been calculated as rather low. Something you did in one or both of the cells you visited must have wakened them, after which they came to the womens’ cell. Our probes didn't find the guards where they were supposed to be and they had no instructions to visit the prisoners’ cells."

  Linda sat stroking Tiger in silence. Wallace simply sat, his gaze fixed studyingly on Sue.

  "It was a new-guy mistake,” I said. “She never had had any military training.” To Sue, I asked, “How many people did you, Steph, and Elkor evacuate from the bunker?"

  "Four hundred and seventy-three."

  "And animals? From the mountain in general?"

  "Seventy thousand, six hundred and nine mammals and..."

  Wallace's jaw dropped. “What?!” he exclaimed.

  "She said ‘mammals', Cap,” I said, “Sheep. Goats. Cattle. Dogs. Odd little critters that live in the rocks. A few people. You want the rest of the count? Does it really matter?"

  "Uh, no, I guess not. I had no idea..."

  "You thought we'd just go blow up a mountain, right?"

  He shrugged. “Yeah, well, something like that, I guess."

  Sipping my coffee, I
looked at Sue as I said, “Sue didn't like that idea. She has this thing about killing."

  Sue gave me a ‘you're being tiresome’ look as she moved to the desk to help Linda pet Tiger. Tiger rolled over for a tummy rub and purred loudly.

  Giving me a droll look, Wallace asked, “Weren't you in charge of the mission?"

  "Until I turned it over to Sue, yes."

  "Did anyone authorize you to do that?"

  "More to the point, nobody objected."

  His eyes narrowing tightly, Wallace said, “That's not the same thing, especially if those who could authorize such an action weren't consulted."

  I gave Wallace a piercing look and said, “I was told to go do something by Linda. I discussed methods with Linda, including Sue's suggestions. Linda okayed the op."

  "But did you let her know before the event that you were abrogating command of the mission?"

  "Yup. Now tell me why any of this is your business."

  Instead of answering me, he turned to Linda and asked, “Did he consult you concerning allowing Sue to command?"

  Linda fixed him with a cool, tight gaze and quietly said, “Yes. Answer his question, Emory."

  After a moment of silence, Wallace got up and walked to the coffee pot, poured a cup, and stood looking at us for another few moments before speaking.

  "There have been some political repercussions. Threats have been made. Assassination threats."

  "Big deal,” I said. “'Kill the Infidels’ has been their favorite tune for centuries."

  "These were direct threats against key elected officials and 3rd World personnel. Personal threats."

  "So return the favor. Make sure they know that if they kill our honchos, we'll kill theirs. They'll pay attention. The Imams and the other muckitymucks over there don't mind wasting members of their common herd, but we don't see them strapping on suicide bombs, do we?"

  In a tight tone, Wallace said, “The US government doesn't work that way."

  "PC bullshit. Who launched an airstrike against Libya's honcho some years ago? Who went after Noriega in Panama? Remember Grenada? And who recently sent troops after Bin Laden and Saddam and his goons with ‘dead or alive’ orders?"

  Wallace started to say something, but Linda interrupted.

  "Emory, are you saying that the US government is quietly looking for a political scapegoat?"