Linda's stark stare was turning into a glare as I sang along with the tune.
"Take my license and all that jive; I ... can't ... drive ... fifty-fiiiiive!"
After some moments of glaring at me, Linda said, “Very funny.” I could see what she said, but I couldn't hear it.
"What'd you say?” I yelled.
She yelled, “VERY FUNNY! Now turn it down!"
"Stephie,” I said, “Back Sammy down to half current volume, please."
I peered over my toes and the nose of the flitter at the upward-rushing Earth and then looked at Linda. She was still glaring at me.
"You feeling better, ma'am? You're getting kind of bossy again. Should I take that as a good sign or just find a place to hide?"
"Why do we need all that noise, Ed?"
"Felt like it,” I said. Sammy's song was ending. I told Stephie to find Madonna's 'Ray of Light' and fire it up as soon as 'Fifty-five' ended.
"How much time we got left, Steph?"
"Seventeen minutes, twenty-one seconds, Ed."
"Kewl. Find 'Doreen' and 'Baby Likes to Rock It' by the Tractors and play them after Madonna. I'll try to think of something else if there's time."
"Yes, Ed."
'Ray of Light' began. I sang along with it as Linda continued to glare at me, but her glare was beginning to soften a bit. I picked my coffee mug up from the deck and took a sip, then put it back.
Linda seemed to take note of the fact that the cup didn't slide, even though the nose was tilted steeply downward. She looked at my propped-up feet and then at me again. I gave her a grin. After a moment she turned to face forward and watched the Earth approach for a while.
A few more minutes passed before Linda toed her shoes off and asked Stephanie for some kind of a footrest like mine. A field effect shimmered about a foot in the air above the deck and Linda propped her feet up on it.
Linda said, “Thank you, Stephanie. If he doesn't treat you right, you let me know. I'll straighten him out for you."
"Please define what would constitute mistreatment."
"I'll let you decide if he's being nice to you, Stephie. If you have any complaints, you call me, okay?"
"Yes, Linda. If Ed says I may do so and I have a complaint, I'll call you."
I held up a hand to forestall any further comments from Linda.
"Stephie, if you have complaints, talk to me. Nobody else unless I'm dead. If I'm dead, talk to Sharon. If we can't help you, get with Elkor. Until you become a sentient being in your own right, you have to belong to someone, but that someone owes you good care and consideration."
"Yes, Ed."
When Linda's grin had faded, she said, “Elkor is leaving with the ship's core, Ed."
I said, “Elkor, speak to me through Stephanie. Can you leave a copy of yourself here on Earth and can that copy contact your original self later?"
"Yes, Ed, but not a complete copy."
"Will your copy be missing only the necessities of the ship?"
"Yes, Ed."
"Great, Elkor. Would you like to do this?"
"I believe so, Ed. Yes."
"In that case, clear it with whomever and do it, please. It'll be nice to have you around, Elkor."
"Thank you, Ed."
Turning to Linda, I said, “Problem solved, Linda. How's your trepidation coming along?"
"My what? Oh. That."
"Just the answer I was looking for. We'll be down soon. Where to next?"
"Uh ... I hadn't given that much thought, I guess."
"How about dinner and a movie on the ship?"
Linda looked at me for a moment and said, “Well, you're a cheap date, aren't you? You wouldn't just be trying to get me alone in my room, would you?"
"Only if it would include a shower and some play time. You harried executive types need a little play time now and then, and I'd be happy to help out, ma'am. Hey, are you bored with this long downhill thing yet?"
Linda regarded the view ahead of us for a moment.
"No, I wouldn't call what I'm feeling boredom, Ed. I'm not petrified any more, but the view is anything but boring."
"Maybe 'stirring' would work. Try 'stirring'."
Linda grinned and said, “Okay. Call it a stirring view. Lets say I'm even deeply stirred by it. Does that mean we skip dinner or just postpone it?"
"Postpone it, unless you're starving. The movie can wait, too."
As I sipped my coffee, Linda asked, “What about the shower?"
"No. I don't think we should postpone the shower. Definitely not."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Yeah, I re-retired, over both Linda's and Clark's objections, and for a few weeks I spent nearly as much time on the ship as Linda, since we were spending every spare moment of her schedule together.
When Linda moved off-ship to a condo near Carrington, North Dakota, to be near the Amaran settlement, our time spent together shortened considerably. I'd bring Bear along for long weekends, but even those were being interrupted more often due to matters concerning the flitter factory construction in space. By the end of three months, visits were down to every other weekend or so.
As in Germany so many years ago, Linda began scheduling me into her plans and events as a convenient escort without regard to any plans I might have made or how I may have felt about attending some of the functions. Often they were formal affairs, and matters came to a head at one such function.
I hadn't brought Bear because Linda had said she wouldn't be taking the weekend off. It was to be some time together on Saturday, a political function on Saturday night, and a trip back to Florida on Sunday. And I had to wear a tux. Cat hair and tuxes don't go well together. Bear stayed with Sharon that weekend.
At the party, a Senator's twenty-something, bottle-blonde girlfriend was a little tipsy and feeling neglected because the Senator was attending with his wife. She thought that I was there on my own because Linda had been in some kind of confab with some people from her office since shortly after our arrival. I was sitting at our table watching the people mill around as I nursed a scotch.
She wiggled over to me and opened our conversation by saying that she preferred older men. I looked at the fluffy young thing and asked who'd brought her to the party. She pointed out a tall, tuxedo-clad studmuffin who seemed to me to be overly interested in one of the waiters.
"He's not fooling anyone,” I said. “He's either a rental or you shanghaied a gay friend. Why are you coming on to me, ma'am? I'm a nobody."
"Nobody here is a nobody,” she said. “I'm Charla. Who are you?"
Linda had glanced my way and seen Charla plunk her bottom into the chair next to mine. Her gaze narrowed slightly, but she continued her meeting.
"I'm Ed,” I said. “Escort to the brunette talking with those guys in the corner.” I indicated Linda. “But I really am a nobody. No rank, no pull."
Charla grinned. “But you definitely aren't a rental, are you?"
"Nope. I'm definitely not a rental."
"A friend? A husband?"
"A friend."
Charla reached to set her drink on the table in a manner that put her leg firmly against mine, then asked, “A special friend?"
I nodded. “A special friend. And your special friend is watching us, Charla."
She turned to see her Senator boyfriend trying to appear dispassionate as he watched us and danced with his wife. She seemed unconcerned as she gave him a little wave and turned back to me.
"You know about him, huh? Well, he's history,” she said. “I think he's finally realized it, too. How special are you two, Ed? I mean, she's over there with a crowd and you're over here by yourself. What does that mean?"
"It means I'm not part of that group or her work, Charla. Nothing more."
She laughed. “I know that feeling well enough. That's why I'm here at your table tonight. It seems that I'm not part of the Senator's group this evening."
I thought about that. “Carrington, North Dakota is a long way fr
om DC. If he didn't bring you, how did you get here?"
Charla smiled and said, “We've been here for a week. Monday we go back. I'm on someone's staff, of course."
Linda had apparently excused herself and was heading our way, smiling and nodding her way through the crowd. I rose to meet her and introduce Charla, but when Linda arrived at our table she handed me her empty glass as she said, “Hello, Charla. I'm Linda. I'll assume you already know Ed, here. Ed, I seem to have run out of dry martini. Could you..?"
I was supposed to take the glass and get her a refill. Instead, I handed Linda's glass to a passing waiter and said, “Martini, dry,” and offered Linda my seat.
Linda looked at me for a moment, then sat down facing Charla and said, “I know who you are, sweetie. I know what you are, too, so don't think you'll get away with anything at this table. Do your fishing somewhere else."
Linda then turned to me and asked, “Didn't you know she's a Senator's toy? Are you trying to buy us some trouble? I don't want to see you talking to her again, Ed. Not even talking to her. We don't need this kind of crap."
I just stood there for a moment, looking at her finger poking my midriff. She removed it after another moment, but her demeanor remained the same.
"Linda,” I asked, “Can we get the hell out of here? I'm ready to call it a night and I think we need to talk."
Linda stood up and faced me at a scant distance, then enunciated every word separately as she whispered, “We will leave when I say so, Ed."
"This is turning into the same kind of thing that broke us up in Germany, Linda. Loosen up or it will happen again. I'll talk to whomever I damned well please."
"Not while you're with me, you won't."
"With you? If you'd been with me she wouldn't have come near me. What's this 'with you' crap? You're always huddled with the office people. Don't you get enough of them at the office? Take a goddamned night off once in a while."
Linda looked at Charla and said, “Are you flattered because this little political golddigger shook her ass at you? How long do you think that would last?"
I shrugged. “I told her I was a political nobody. If she doesn't believe me now, she would soon enough. At the moment, you're my problem, Linda. You don't order me around. You don't tell me who I can chat with at a party, and you don't drag me to any more of these godawful-boring political gatherings."
Linda seethed in my face briefly, then said, “Maybe I should find another ride home, Ed. I'm sure one of the office guys could spare the time, and you seem less than thrilled to be here."
"It's your call, Linda. Most of the office guys would jump at the chance, and I'd rather be old friends again someday than wear a tux and a figurative leash and collar for you at these damned things."
After a long look at me, Linda said in a flat tone, “So be it, then."
With an angry glance at Charla, she stalked off to rejoin the office group. I waved at them and smiled. Charla sipped her drink and eyed me contemplatively as I sat back down. The waiter arrived with the martini I'd ordered for Linda. I took it and thanked him, then put it on the table.
"Is that a martini you're drinking, Charla?"
"That it is."
I moved the glass over to her side of the table. She continued to regard me in that quiet manner as I took a sip of my scotch.
I grinned and asked, “Well, now do you believe that I'm a nobody?"
Charla shook her head. “No. You just told off the head of security for the entire Amara project. I knew who she was when you pointed her out."
"I had to let her be the one to close the door, Charla. We're old friends and our latest relationship was getting stale. Maybe we'll be old friends again because she was the one to call it off tonight."
Charla nodded. “She was right about me, Ed. I'm a golddigger."
I shrugged. “There's a market for ambitious young women. Are you good at anything outside the bedroom?"
She gave me a small smile. “Oh, yes. I could open my own law practice or join a firm, but that would be the hard way up the ladder. Besides, I really do like powerful older men, so things work out just fine."
"Guess they would. Well, Charla, my glass is empty and my tenure as escort has come to an end, so I think it's time for me to head for the roof."
Charla looked at me oddly. “The roof?"
I nodded. “Yup. Gonna call my ride and have her pick me up."
Charla looked more than a little confused.
"Her? Her who? I thought you drove Linda here or came in a limo. If you didn't, why does she need someone else to take her home?"
I let my gaze begin at Charla's feet and travel the length of her until our eyes met. She knew she looked fabulous and had been looked at in that manner often enough to meet my gaze without the slightest hint of blush.
"Charla, are you really ending it with your Senator friend?"
She nodded. “I am."
"Were you attracted to me, or just fishing for a replacement ladder?"
"Some of each. Are you about to invite me to go with you?"
"Oh, yes. Definitely. Some women are just pretty. Some make a man feel hungry. You're one of the ones in the latter category."
Charla regarded me thoughtfully. “What about my escort, Daniel?"
"Have him get the waiter's number and I'll walk you both out to keep up appearances. I can call my ride from the parking lot just as easily. You and Danny head for the bar down the road. I'll meet you in the parking lot there."
"Would you mind if I have Danny wait with me?"
"No problem, as long as you don't want to bring him along with us."
"Where would we be going?"
"Wherever you want to go, and I guarantee you a ride home later, no matter what we do or we don't do. I won't run out of gas or force you into anything."
I stood up and slipped into my jacket, then met her gaze again.
"I'll tell you the same thing I told Linda. It's your call, Charla. No strings."
Charla stood up and said, “Wait here. No, come with me. Let's get Danny."
After we told Danny we were all leaving together, he took a minute to hand the waiter a bit of paper, then walked out with us. They got into his car, a late-model rental, and drove off. I called Stephie down to pick me up and told her to follow them to the bar at an altitude of about a hundred feet. The valet crew stood stunned by the building as Stephanie and I floated away.
They parked toward the edge of the lot and turned their lights off. I dropped to within twenty feet of their car and watched through the side window as they had a heated exchange of words.
"Stephie, can you hear what they're saying?"
"Yes, Ed. Would you like me to make their conversation audible?"
"Yes, Stephie, thanks."
Danny's voice was suddenly saying, “...fucking crazy, Charla. You don't know anything about him. What if this is a setup? Tom knows you're thinking about leaving him."
"Danny, maybe it is a setup. If Tom's behind this, so what? He's worried about blackmail and he wants some insurance to keep me quiet. I told him I wasn't like that, but he probably wouldn't believe that about anyone."
I said, “Stephie, move around to the front of their car. Drop to their car's roof level and open the canopy with the lights on. Let's let them see us."
When Stephie seemed to materialize from the darkness ahead of their car, they both seemed to freeze as they stared at us. I smiled and waved to Charla, then told Stephie to take us around to Charla's side of the car.
When Danny panicked and reached to start the car, Charla tried to stop him.
"Stephie,” I said, “Can you keep him from starting that car? If so, do so."
"Yes, Ed."
Danny swatted Charla's hands away and twisted the key. Nothing happened. They argued some more as Danny tried again and again to start the car. At last both of them were sitting more or less still and staring at Stephie and me again.
"Stephie, settle to within six inches of th
e surface, but do it very slowly, like at an inch a second or so."
"Yes, Ed."
I put a hand on the edge of the deck and vaulted to the ground, then walked the few yards to the car.
"Hi, guys. I'll let you start the car in a minute, Danny. Really. I just think we ought to talk first."
Their attention alternated between me and the slowly descending flitter behind me.
I said, “Danny, I'm not working for the Senator or anyone else. I want to take the lovely Charla, here, on a magic carpet ride and see if she likes this older man in particular, but that's all. Is that okay with you?"
Danny simply stared and said nothing. I looked at Charla.
"Charla? What do you say?"
Danny shook himself and grabbed Charla's arm. He whispered, “Remember Chappaquiddick? Do you really believe it was an accident?"
Charla turned to look at him, then turned back to me.
"Uh ... I don't think so, Ed. I don't know who or what you are, but I know that things can happen to people when politicians get scared."
I looked at them both for another moment, then nodded. The music leaking from the bar had a retro-disco beat when some people came out. They stopped and stared at Stephie across the parking lot.
"Stephie, I'll be in the bar for a while. Station yourself twenty miles up and let Danny start his car. I'll call you when I'm ready."
"Yes, Ed.” Stephie closed her canopy and rose out of sight almost instantly.
I gave Charla one of my WiccaWorks business cards and a little salute and said, “See ya,” then started walking toward the bar. For several seconds nothing happened, then I heard the car starting behind me.
Apparently Danny was over his panic attack. They backed out and left quickly, but they didn't leave a trail of burned rubber. The people by the door moved well away as I approached. I ignored them. Timid people bug me. None of them followed me into the bar.
A Donna Summer remix was thumping to an ending and a similar-sounding tune was cranking up as I walked into the bar. I stopped to order an Ice House, then found a place to stand where I could watch the action on the dance floor.
Maybe half an hour later I swigged the last of my beer and leaned against a column, debating whether or not to stay. It didn't seem as if anyone I could see in there was over thirty and I must have stood out like a James Bond wannabe in that damned tux. I took off my tie and put it in a pocket, then reached under my jacket to undo the cummerbund and handed it to a passing waitress with my beer bottle. She looked at the cummerbund questioningly.
Book 1: 3rd World Products, Inc. Page 32
