"Yes'm,” I said, “Will do, milady. Donna just bought a board like mine. Do you want one, too?"
With a horrified look, Toni shook her head dramatically and yelped, “Oh, hell, no! You people are nuts to whiz around on those goddamned ice cream sticks! Have fun, but don't call me when you make a crater in somebody's yard!"
She suddenly looked concerned and asked, “Oh, damn, does this ... I mean, does she mean ... our playdate's off? Will I have to use Louis on Wednesday?"
"No, milady. I'm still yours on Wednesday."
"Whew! Thank God! I already told Louis you'd do it."
"May I ask a question, ma'am? If you're going to go with another company after you graduate, why not just tell those people you prefer girls?"
As if I'd said something truly stupid, Toni replied, “You know why, Ed. I still need this job. I have another four months before I can forget about them and their stupid picnics."
Looking around, I said, “Oops, we're here. Okay, Toni. If anything comes up before Wednesday, I'll call you."
Grinning lasciviously, she replied, “Yeah, Ed, if anything comes up, you do that. Bye, now! Bye, Tiger!"
After Tiger had yowled, “Goodbye, Toni! Goodbye!” she poked her ‘off’ icon.
I let the screen dissolve and asked, “See what I mean? I think she only wants me for my body."
Donna snickered as she sipped the last of her beer and looked for a place to put the bottle. I took it and tossed it and it disappeared with a bright flash as my bottle had.
"She sounds like she takes hormones,” said Donna, “Maybe that's why she's more macho than most men."
"Could be. I've never asked."
Snorting a chuckle, Donna said, “It's probably a good thing you didn't. She looks tough."
"She is tough. Those fitness contests are grueling."
Pulling her backpack closer to her feet, Donna watched her fingers fondle the padded strap and asked, “So, what now?"
"Whatever you want, Donna. If you're still insecure, go home. If you aren't, let's dump our stuff and go flying.” I shrugged and added, “Or even if you are, I guess. You can think about it while you learn a few tricks on your new board."
A few moments passed, then Donna stood up and hefted both of her backpacks onto a shoulder.
"I should go home and check in with some people."
I wrote my number on the back of one of my Abintra Press business cards and handed it to her.
"Always call ahead,” I said, “If Linda or the Sheriff's Department calls, I may leave on a moment's notice."
"The Sheriff's Department?"
"Yup. Sometimes they need the flitter."
"What if they need it while you're out flying?"
"Then the call will be patched to me and I'll tell the flitter to go help out while I fly back from wherever."
"This thing can run itself?"
Laughing, I replied, “Oh, hell, yes, ma'am. It almost doesn't need me at all."
She grinned. “Just like Toni, huh?"
"Not quite. Someone has to own the flitter. Come here."
I led her to the rear of the flitter and said, “Flitter, show her your license plate, please."
The flitter's field faded just below the deck and its Florida Panther license plate became visible.
"Oh, my God...” muttered Donna, “You found a way to register this thing as a car?!"
"Funny, that's almost exactly how Linda reacted. No, ma'am, it's registered as an ‘automobile'. A self-propelled, passenger-carrying vehicle suitable for use on roads. Since it can handle roads just fine, it got the tag."
"But ... it doesn't have any wheels!"
"Y'noticed that, huh? Well, ma'am, the cops tested it a couple of dozen different ways and decided it fit the bill, if only by legal definition."
When I'd asked, “Y'noticed that, huh?” Donna's gaze had narrowed considerably.
She said, “You're kind of a smartass, Ed."
Grinning, I shrugged and asked, “Y'noticed that, too, huh? Oh, well. Better sooner than later, I guess. If you aren't really leaving, c'mon in."
I took my backpack and coffee mug to the house and Tiger followed along for a few paces before he raced ahead to the door. Donna hung back for a moment, then followed us, which I took to be a good sign.
Dropping my backpack by the kitchen table, I set about refilling my coffee mug as I asked, “Do you drink instant?"
She made a face. “Not on top of beer, no."
Looking at her with faux-surprise, I asked, “Are you sure you were in the Army, ma'am? Anytime is coffee time."
"I thought we were going flying."
Capping my mug and sipping a little to make some airspace under the cap, I picked up my backpack, hung the mug handle on a jeans pocket and said, “We are. Tiger, do you want to come with us?"
He looked up from his food dish and said, “No."
"Okay, then. We'll see you in a while.."
"Goodbye, Ed. Goodbye, Donna."
She answered, “Goodbye, Tiger,” as I held the door for her and grabbed the moon-glow Frisbee from its peg by the door.
As I stepped onto the porch, she asked, “What's that for?"
"Call it a training aid. The idea is to keep it from touching the ground."
Donna seemed to briefly give that some thought and rather quietly muttered, “Oh, lord."
Shaking my head, I said, “Don't sweat it, milady. We'll be high enough that we'll have plenty of time to chase it."
Her left eyebrow went up and she muttered, “Oh, lord,” again as we stepped off the porch. I grinned and tossed the Frisbee at her. She caught it and eyed it.
"It's been a long time,” she said.
"Same here,” I countered, “Too bad. Board on. You coming?"
My board stretched across the walkway and I stepped onto it. After a moment, Donna said, “Board on,” and tossed the Frisbee at me.
The disk flew toward me, then abruptly angled sharply upward as the wind from behind me caught it. I backslid fast, lifted to intercept the Frisbee, and found myself looking down at Donna from a height of perhaps twenty feet.
Her mouth had fallen open and her eyes were wide. Letting my board settle back to Earth, I flipped the Frisbee at her. She took her eyes off me only long enough to catch it between her hands, then her gaze returned to me.
"Do you realize...” she began, then she took a breath. “You were by the top of that tree when you caught it."
Nodding, I said, “Yeah, I noticed that, too."
"Do you expect me to ... to do things like that?"
Giving her a shrug and a fat grin, I said, “Sooner or later, yeah. If I can, you can. Right, Cap'n?"
Chapter Twenty-four
Holding up a hand, I counted almost two fingers to sunset; less than two hours. Lifting and heading east, I led Donna to an area that was being cleared for some condominiums near I-75 and waited until Donna was above the graded region.
We were about a hundred yards up and she was about a hundred feet from me. Turning to wave at her, I flung the Frisbee. It arced high and to the right, then began a downward path that would put it in her general area.
Donna aimed herself at it and charged upward, latching onto it when it impacted her middle. She seemed to take a moment to realize she'd gained another hundred feet or so of altitude, then she sent the Frisbee back at me in a trajectory that started fast and flat, but suddenly sliced upward.
I overshot the height a bit, so I flipped my board end-for-end and upside down, anchored my coffee mug at my pocket, and reached down to snag the disk.
Donna definitely seemed suitably impressed with that maneuver, yelling as if I'd scored a touchdown when, in fact, I'd simply misjudged the Frisbee's path.
When I flung the Frisbee back at her, she, too, had to chase it high, but she managed to put herself in its path again and simply clamped both hands on it when it came within reach.
Partly due to the easterly wind's effect on the disk and partly due t
o my intentions, our game rose ever higher into the evening sky; eventually reaching a height of two miles or so, judging by the appearance of roads and cars below us.
We hadn't been up there long when Donna raised her hands to stop me from tossing the disk again and flew closer to me.
"How is it I can breathe up here?” she asked, “When I visit my sister in Albuquerque, it takes me a week to get used to the altitude."
"No mystery. Your board's protective field gathers oxygen through its entire surface to match your immediate needs."
She stood eyeing me as she gave that some thought, then asked, “There's oxygen in water. Are you saying this board would function underwater, too?"
Grinning, I asked, “Wanna find out?"
Without hesitation, she said, “I have a swimming pool."
"Nah.” I shook my head. “By now your hubby may have reached Karen and someone may be watching your house. No point in inviting controversy."
"Then where?"
"The Weeki Wachee river. Most of it's as clear as glass from the spring all the way to the gulf."
Looking around at the dusky sky, she said, “But it'll be getting dark soon."
"Board,” I said, “Lights on, please."
My board's nose began to glow brightly, casting a broad cone of strong white illumination through the thin clouds around us. Donna stared at the new brightness ahead, then her eyes tracked it back to the board and she gasped softly as she pointed at the brilliant red glow at back of my board.
"Why so surprised?” I asked, “I told you you'd have running lights. Try yours."
Donna looked down at her board and said softly, “Uh ... board, lights on.” As an apparent afterthought, she added, “Please,” but the ends of her board had already begun glowing.
"Board, lights off,” I said, and Donna quickly asked, “Why turn off the lights?"
"Don't need ‘em up here. We can't hit anything and it's easier to see the patterns on the ground without the glare of a headlight. I use landmarks around town at night anyway; a Wal-Mart at SR-50 and Mariner and another one at Spring Hill Drive and US-19. I-75 and US-19 themselves. The beach road, SR-550. You already know how to get where you want to go. The boards are just a way to get there fast and avoid traffic."
As I pointed out my landmarks to her Donna said, “These boards are considerably more than just a way to avoid traffic, Ed.” In a softly accusing tone, she added, “They're miracles of science, and we're using them as toys."
I met her gaze and said, “You sound exactly like a lady named Myra. After about fifteen minutes aboard my flitter, she decided that I was whimsically squandering some kind of potential boon to mankind on my personal pleasures. I told her the flitter was mine to squander and she hadn't been asked to approve the matter."
Donna lifted an eyebrow at me, but said nothing, so I continued, “I also told her about the ones already in the hands of the government and suggested she try to pry one away from limo duty. After all, they technically belong to the people. Mine belongs only to me. Same with this board. Once you know how yours operates, you can do whatever you want with it."
After a moment, Donna said, “Sorry, Ed. I wasn't ... Oh, hell. Yes, I was. I was making a judgment that wasn't mine to make. No offense meant."
"None taken, milady. I'm fully aware that most of my unofficial uses for my flit and my board are inherently trivial. Are you getting hungry yet?"
She'd been watching something below. Nodding slightly, she said, “Actually, I am."
"Would a buffet place do?"
Donna shrugged. “I guess so."
Pointing below, I said, “Over there, then,” and aimed my board toward a cluster of lights.
We settled beside the building where there weren't any windows and turned off our boards. Donna stashed hers in her backpack and we ambled around toward the front doors.
You never know who's watching, of course. I heard an engine rev up in the distance and glanced around to see a white sedan hurrying along the service road from an adjoining shopping mall's parking lot.
The car whipped into the restaurant parking lot and came to a halt in a handicapped slot, where the driver's door quickly opened and a Sheriff's deputy got out.
Saying, “Hold it right there a minute, folks,” he approached us in a manner that put him between us and the parking lot, even though he'd apparently just seen us land elsewhere. Hm. Habits and training will tell, I guess.
"Detective Greer,” I enunciated clearly.
Both the deputy and Donna asked, “What?” and Donna added, “His nametag says ‘Tilman', not ‘Greer'."
Without taking my eyes off the deputy, I said, “Yeah, but if he calls Detective Greer about me, we'll be able to go to dinner in a few minutes instead of half an hour from now."
Toss a locally-big name at a small-town cop and you may instantly inspire caution and special treatment. Toss that sort of name at a Sheriff's deputy and you get only the caution.
The guy asked us to join him in his car, installed us in the back seat, asked us for our ID's, and called them in by swiping them through a gadget on the front seat.
Only then did he ask, “May I ask how y'all got here?"
I said, “You saw us land beside the building."
He met my gaze for a moment in the rearview mirror, then answered someone's comment on his epaulet radio with, “I've got ‘em in my car."
The dispatcher said, “Stand by,” then a familiar voice said, “Greer,” and Tilman got out of the car to stand a few yards away as he held a hushed conversation on his radio.
A couple of minutes went by, then Tilman came back to the car and opened the door on Donna's side.
As we slid out, he said, “Sorry to keep you from dinner, folks.” Looking at me, he said, “Detective Greer said he'd be here as soon as he can get loose. He wants to talk to you."
Nodding, I thumbed at the front doors. “We'll be here."
With a two-finger salute, Tilman said, “Well, y'all have a good evening,” got back in his car, and sat doing something with a laptop computer as we entered the restaurant.
Donna and I had half-finished our meals before I saw Greer walk in wearing a grey suit. I waved and he nodded before he paused with the woman at the register, then he came to join us as she handed a receipt to a waitress.
After introductions, he sat down with us.
I asked, “You aren't going to grab a plate?"
Shaking his head, he replied, “I just ordered a coffee. My wife'll have dinner on the table in a few minutes. Tilman said you landed on something that looked like a surfboard."
Around some spinach, I said, “Yup. It does."
Lifting an eyebrow, he repeated, “A surfboard. That flies?"
"Yup. It's a prototype."
Donna's eyebrow went up at that. “It is?"
Looking at her, I nodded. “Sure. Use something for a month and you'll end up with a list of things to add or change."
Greer asked, “What all can it do?"
"It'll carry a couple of hundred pounds. It's basically just an airborne motorcycle. Like the flitter, it won't work for anyone else, won't let me hit anything, won't let anything hit me, and won't let me fall off."
"Jesus. How fast can it go?"
When I answered, “A little better than sixty,” Donna hesitated only briefly in raising a bite of steak to her mouth, but Greer noticed.
"Only about sixty?” he prompted.
Leaning forward, I lowered my tone to one of confidentiality as I said, “Okay. This is completely unofficial, of course, but it can break a hundred if I push it a little."
Greer grinned as he said, “I gotta see this thing."
We chatted some more and finished eating. When we walked outside, there were four Sheriff's cars lined up along the far side of the parking lot.
Half a dozen deputies in uniform and a few people in street clothes got out of the cars. A few of them had cameras and two had video cameras.
"Witnesses,�
�� Greer said with a grin, waving at the cars. “If you'll put on a quick show, I can spread the word that there's nothing to be concerned about."
Nodding, I hooked my coffee mug on a pants pocket and said, “Okay. Board on, lights on."
Greer jumped back quickly as the board appeared in front of me, glowing at both ends. I stepped on it and glanced at the cameras, thinking about how to proceed.
Moving forward at thirty or so, I stopped and backed up, then I wove between the police cars. At the end of the line I lifted and hopped over the first row of parked cars in the lot.
Aiming the board at a police car, I accelerated to thirty. The board took over about twenty feet from the car and hopped us over the car's rear.
Turning left, I returned to the front doors at a height of about twenty feet and took my mug off my pocket before I flipped the board upside down, lowering until I was about eye-to-eye with Greer. Looking at Donna, I gave her a grin and a little wave, then flipped the board rightside up.
It wasn't much of a show compared to the board's true capabilities, but it was enough. As I lowered beside Donna, Greer nodded.
"Good enough, by God,” he said. “We'll write it up and you shouldn't be stopped again without some kind of a reason. How soon will we have to deal with them on the street?"
I shook my head. “You won't be dealing with boards like mine, but Sue's variant might show up later. It won't fly above ten feet and won't go over forty. Same lights, and she'll probably want to fix it so they're on all the time."
Chapter Twenty-five
We talked a bit more, then Greer left to talk to the other cops. Donna said, “Board on, lights on,” and mounted her board, then we lifted out of the parking lot and headed toward my house at an altitude of perhaps a hundred feet.
In a mocking tone, Donna said, “This is completely unofficial, of course, but it can break a hundred if I push it a little."
Shrugging, I said, “I didn't lie, did I?"
She grinningly exclaimed, “Oh, no! Not at all! You just failed to mention the other three hundred miles per hour. You didn't fly above twenty feet, either, until we left."
"He never asked how high it would fly."
Donna laughed and said, “Yeah, and you would have said it could break a hundred if you push it, right?"
3rd World Products, Inc. Book 7 Page 14
