Book 5: 3rd World Products, Inc.

by Ed Howdershelt

  I deferred almost all questions to Sue as I ate, but toward the end of the meal, Wexler aimed his fork at me and swallowed a bit of steak before asking, “What is it you actually do, Ed? For 3rd World, I mean?"

  Looking up from the last of my steak, I said, “Nothing."

  He gave me an odd look and a small grin as he asked, “They pay you, don't they?"

  Nodding, I said, “Yup. That they do."

  With a grinning glance at Joan, he said, “Then I'd say you work for them."

  Shaking my head, I said, “Nope. I work for Linda Baines."

  Joan chuckled and forked up a bit of steak, pausing before putting it in her mouth to say, “So split hairs if you want. You still work for 3rd World. If Ms. Baines retired..."

  "I'd probably retire, too,” I finished for her.

  She met my gaze for a moment, then looked at Sue, whose expression didn't change a whit.

  Looking back at me, she asked, “You're serious?"

  Shrugging, I ate the last of my steak, then said, “Well, I'd wait to see who replaced her, but it probably wouldn't matter a helluva lot. We were the first team. Anybody new usually thinks they have to make a bunch of changes."

  Wexler asked, “The first team?"

  "Back when the big ship came. Before there were hard and fast rules about anything but keeping Amarans alive long enough to get deals done and factories established. Linda was running the show, so I accepted an invitation to sign on."

  Joan opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a woman's scream from another table. Following the scream, the man at that table slumped and toppled out of his chair to lie unconscious on the floor.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Sue materialized beside the guy before anyone at our table realized she'd disappeared, including me. Getting to my feet, I said to the others, “Let's go. Get over there and keep people away while she works on him."

  We placed ourselves around Sue and the man on the floor. He was straightened out on his back by invisible forces, his chest began moving up and down rhythmically, and his color improved quickly after a pulse became visible in his throat.

  Our waitress and the two blonde hostesses arrived. Sue calmly told them that she'd called 911 and that things were under control.

  Loren peered at the guy and whisperingly, incredulously asked, “Under control?!” She sent the other woman to call for help and turned to Sue, exclaiming, “You've just been standing there! You didn't call anyone!"

  "Yes, she did,” I said, taking her arm and the other woman's arm to turn them around, then gesturing at the rest of the people in the restaurant, some of whom were on their feet and moving our way. “Help us keep everybody at a distance until the medics get here, okay?"

  Attempting to look back, Loren managed, “But..."

  "Later!” I snapped, “Crowd control first. Keep everybody cool, quiet, and out of the way. Put someone at the door. Keep it clear for the cops and medics."

  Some guy came up to us and said he was a doctor as he tried to step past me.

  "Great,” I said, taking his arm to halt him for a moment, “Watch what she's doing, but don't interfere."

  In moderate shock that someone would say such a thing to him, he rather incredulously asked, “What?!"

  Lightly feeding him theta waves, I quietly reiterated, “Don't interfere, doc. The guy's breathing again and he has a pulse. She's doing fine."

  "What the hell are you talking about? She's not doing a damned thing!"

  "She's using Amaran technology. The guy has a pulse and respiration and help's on the way, so relax."

  The theta waves kept him cool, but didn't erase his incredulousness. I let him go and he hurried to kneel by the guy on the floor and begin checking him over.

  Rocking back on his heels, the doc regarded Sue peeringly for a moment, then turned his attention to the man on the floor. Sue looked at me and I shrugged.

  Keying my implant, I whispered, “Can't hurt to have a qualified witness, and if the guy dies, the doc can sign for it."

  "He won't die,” Sue replied. “I removed the ventricular blockage."

  "Okay, but he already died once, so don't trust him."

  Within a few minutes, the medics from a local fire station arrived. As I saw them coming up the stairs, Sue moved to stand by the guy's feet.

  The guy on the floor continued breathing on his own, but the doc looked ready to administer resuscitation if necessary and directed the medics after identifying himself.

  When Sue stepped back from the activity, so did I. Joan and Dick saw us moving away and joined us back at the table as the medics lifted the guy onto a gurney.

  "Unless you want publicity,” I said to Sue, “This would be the time to disappear. It's your choice, milady."

  "My choice?” she echoed, one eyebrow raised.

  "Yup.” I thumbed at the gurney they were rolling toward the stairs. “You might even want to field that gurney to the street for them and tell them what you did up here if you think it'll help gain the medical-use fields some good press."

  Looking appropriately enlightened, Sue nodded. “Steph agrees. Thanks, I'll join you later."

  She disappeared and reappeared by the stairs, to the consternation of all in the vicinity. The gurney left the floor, its legs folded, and it began to descend the staircase all by itself in a perfectly level manner. Cops and medics grabbed at it, couldn't stop it, and finally allowed it to proceed as Sue spoke to them. I keyed my implant.

  "Flitter, make yourself visible, please."

  Shouts of surprise came from the street outside and people gathered at the windows. Loren stood nearby. I grinningly waved at her and she stepped over to the table.

  "Hi, there,” I said, “You may remember that we came here with the lady who kept that guy alive and went downstairs with the medics. That's our ride you've been staring at."

  Glancing out the window, she asked, “You came here on that thing?"

  "Yes, we did, and it's called a flitter. Our friend Sue is likely to be stuck here for a little while, Loren. Would you like to step aboard for a closer look?"

  She looked me over in an assessing manner and drawlingly asked, “You're saying it belongs to you?"

  Nodding, I answered, “Yup. Need proof?"

  Shrugging, she grinningly said, “I wouldn't mind."

  Keying my implant, I softly told the flitter to glow neon blue, which it instantly did, lighting the entire block.

  "Now glow white, please,” I said, and it was like daylight out there. Loren had to shield her eyes to look out the window.

  When her startlement wore off a bit, she canted her head slightly and asked, “Now, why, I wonder, would you be inviting me to go out and see your uh ... flitter?"

  "Not just see it, Loren. Go for a ride. Sue's gonna be busy for half an hour or more with the cops and medics."

  Glancing at the table, she grinned. “In return for what? Tearing up your hundred-dollar dinner tab? And if I couldn't do that, would your offer still stand?"

  Nodding again, I said, “Yup. It isn't about the tab."

  "Then why?"

  "Maybe I'm just a sucker for a beautiful blonde."

  Laughing, she said, “Gee, thanks. Join the crowd. You don't want to tell me, do you? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

  "No trouble. And maybe no stops or questions, either, if we head out the door with the manager."

  Joan spoke up with, “Ed, we aren't in any hurry, are we?"

  "Well, I still have to run you two back to North Dakota. I figured to do that while Sue's chatting with the local PTB's."

  "The what?"

  "The ‘Powers That Be'."

  Loren's mouth fell open. “North Dakota?!"

  Dick raised a calming hand and said, “It's only about fifteen minutes away by flitter."

  "But it's half an hour, round-trip,” I said, “Sue ought to have things pretty much squared away by then."

  Remembering my promise to Tiger, I used a
napkin to contain some steak scraps, then said, “I'll give the napkin back after set this stuff down for my cat."

  Continuing her general state of surprise rather well, Loren asked, “Your cat? You have a cat aboard that thing?"

  "His name's Tiger. He might surprise you, too."

  Snorting a sharp laugh, Loren asked, “Yeah? Why's that? Because he's a real tiger?"

  Holding my hands apart about three feet, I replied, “Nah. He's only about like this, nose to tail. He's got stripes, though. How long are we gonna stand here talking?"

  Loren looked around the three of us for a moment, then said, “Give me a minute,” and headed for the other blonde, then waved for our waitress, Brittany, to join the conference.

  A few minutes later she returned and said, “I'd like Brittany to come with us. Is that okay?"

  Joan's left eyebrow went up as if something had been more or less confirmed in her mind, but she said nothing.

  "No problem,” I said with a shrug. “Six seats."

  Loren turned and nodded. The other blonde nodded in return and Brittany hurried to the restrooms. A few minutes later, she came striding out of the alcove in a dark blue version of Loren's outfit.

  She was simply stunning. Dick's mouth fell open slightly, and I felt that it was probably a good thing that he was standing behind Joan at that particular moment.

  "Okay,” said Loren, “We'll be going out the back way."

  Leading us through the kitchen, Loren took us to a freight elevator that took us to the ground floor, then led us past shelves of restaurant equipment, condiments, and packaged foods to a door that opened on the street behind the building.

  We walked around the corner into the melange of cops and civilians on the sidewalk and found that members of the media had arrived. Only two of them were interviewing cops; the other dozen or so were focused on the flitter.

  Four TV news trucks and vans and a number of cars littered the street without regard to parking issues. Three more cars arrived and disgorged eager newsies as we watched. I looked around for Sue, but didn't see her.

  Holding up a hand to stop our group, I said, “Flitter, drop your canopy field, please, establish a barrier field, and lower to ground level. Those accompanying me are to be allowed aboard, and I'd like you to extend your field to create a six-foot-wide corridor for us."

  Albeit through what appeared to be a grey-tinted shell, the flitter's flat deck and interior became instantly visible, to include the striped cat sitting on the console dash. Cameras flashed and various exclamations came from the crowd as the flitter lowered to the street.

  An unoccupied police car that partially blocked our path to the flitter slid and turned sideways enough to allow the grey translucent field corridor to form and I felt my implant tingle as I saw the field surround us.

  Loren had taken hold of my right arm and Brittany had my left. Both shied away from the barrier, which rather made me the center of their sandwich.

  "It's just a field,” I said, freeing my left arm to reach through it and waving my hand. “No sweat."

  Neither of the ladies looked altogether convinced, but Loren reached to try to touch the field. She couldn't, of course, but she readily noticed the way it kept the newsies out of the path defined by the field.

  "Ready,” I said to Joan and Dick, “Take the lead."

  Brittany breathed, “Oh, my God ... ” as we moved forward.

  Much of the crowd moved to try to get closer to the flitter, but they found themselves abruptly halted six feet from the flitter's deck.

  A few tried to push their way through, anyway, and it bugged me a bit, but when one of the camera guys yelled, “Gimme some room!” and tried to bull his way through the field with a short running start, I sent a tendril to stun him as he hit the barrier field.

  He flattened against the barrier, then crumplingly slid down the side of it to the pavement, where he lay unconscious. That made most the others back away from him—and the flitter—rather quickly.

  As we walked to the flitter, more cameras flashed and some guy who seemed to be seeing the world only through his videocamera's viewfinder walked smack into the corridor field.

  He rebounded with a harsh exclamation as he rubbed his eye and stared at it, ignoring the snickers and laughs of some of his fellow newsies.

  People were yelling, “Who are you?” and more at us.

  Loren surprised me by reaching into her purse and smilingly handing business cards to people beyond the barrier. Brittany saw what she was doing and began doing the same on her side of the corridor.

  When Brittany reached for a second handful of cards, I took one and read it as we walked. It was a restaurant business card with her name and the title ‘Associate Manager'.

  "That's some dedication to the job,” I said.

  "Never pass up an opportunity,” she replied, waving and smiling for the cameras. “We do some modeling, too."

  "Then maybe I ought to let everyone know we'll be back in half an hour."

  I hopped up to the flitter's deck and handed Loren and Brittany aboard as Dick did the same for Joan, then waved my arms to get the attention of the crowd.

  As Loren and Brittany grinned and waved at the crowd, I picked up Tiger and announced, “We have to make a quick trip to North Dakota. I'll bring these ladies back to you in about half an hour. Have a drink and stick around."

  Someone yelled, “Half an hour?!” and someone else yelled, “What's in North Dakota?"

  "Carrington,” I answered, “Don't be so nosy."

  Turning to Loren, I asked, “Good enough?” as Tiger discovered the napkin full of steak bits and lost all interest in anything else.

  Some woman with a camera yelled, “Who are you?", but I ignored her in favor of setting Tiger on one of the seats and telling the flitter to take us back to North Dakota.

  Flicking open my belt knife, I began cutting the steak chunks into Tiger-sized pieces as we lifted into the night sky. The usual first-flight squeaks and screeches preceded the others hurrying to seat themselves.

  "What about Sue?” asked Dick. “Aren't you going to tell her we're leaving?"

  "You think she doesn't know where I am every minute? Flitter, go to stealth mode, please."

  Joan glanced at Brittany and Loren and somewhat tightly asked, “Does she also know you brought them aboard?"

  "Sue?” I asked.

  Giving me an irritated ‘Who the hell else?’ look, Joan opened her mouth to retort as Sue popped into being by the console and asked, “Yes, Ed?"

  Loren and Brittany shrieked and Brittany slipped and nearly fell as she powered out of her seat and backed away. Loren simply sat there staring at Sue. Joan only gasped and breathed rather rapidly for some moments.

  "Joan, here,” I said, thumbing at her, “Is concerned that you may not be aware that I brought two gorgeous young women aboard the flitter, milady."

  Sue grinned at Joan, then disappeared and rematerialized beside Brittany, who shrieked again. I felt my implant tingle sympathetically as Sue fed her theta waves.

  "Brittany,” I said, finishing the job of dicing up Tiger's steak, “Have a seat and relax. That's just how Sue gets around when she wants to be seen."

  As wide-eyed Brittany hesitantly eased around Sue to return to her seat, I wiped my knife on one of my paper towel hankies, ran a searing heat field over the blade to sterilize it, then closed the knife and put it back in my belt sheath.

  "Good stuff, huh, Tiger?"

  Looking up at me, he replied, “Yes. Very good. Thank you,” then he looked around at the others.

  Focusing on Loren, he said, “Hello. I am Tiger.” He then looked at Brittany and repeated his greeting.

  Both women stared at him fixedly and Brittany looked as if she might get out of her seat again.

  "Sorry, Tiger,” I said, “Most people just aren't used to cats who speak as well as you. Give them a minute or so."

  If he'd been human, he'd have probably shrugged as he looked at me, s
aid, “Okay,” and went back to his steak bits.

  Almost inaudibly, Loren muttered, “You gotta be kidding."

  "Nope. His collar translates for him. What kind of story are you going to tell the reporters when we get back?"

  Brittany blinked at me and asked, “Story?"

  "Yeah. Are you just gonna tell ‘em we dropped some people off in North Dakota, turned around, and came back? Or will you clam up and make it look like some kind of secret mission?"

  Loren grinned at that. Brittany didn't.

  She asked, “Why tell them anything?"

  "If you don't, some of ‘em'll prob'ly try real hard to figure we had an orgy or worse. That's how they are, y'know. Anything to sell a few papers."

  Joan and Loren thought it was funny. Brittany stiffened and looked at them before looking at Dick. He happened to be intently eyeballing her chest at the time and rather self-consciously dragged his gaze to her face.

  That seemed to polarize Brittany's opinions. She turned to Loren and asked, “So, what'll we tell them?"

  "Call it an advertising junket,” I said. “That's how you'd have to write off our dinner anyway, since we aren't food critics. When our pictures appear on TV and in the papers tomorrow, 3rd World's Dallas office will probably want to ask you what we were up to. Maybe you can milk some publicity."

  Nodding, Loren said, “Sounds good enough for now."

  "Something else,” I said. “Dallas is about fifteen minutes from my house in Florida. If I went to a local restaurant, I'd have to wait that long for food, so I might as well visit Dallas. Feed me when I'm in town and I'll park the flitter above the street in visible mode."

  "Visible mode?” echoed Brittany, looking a bit confused.

  "Yup. It was out there all during our dinner. Did you see it before I turned it blue?"

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Sue raised a hand slightly and said, “Ed, an attempted robbery in Sioux City has turned into a hostage situation."

  Making a hands-off-the-controls gesture, I said, “You have the ship, milady."