"I don't know, Ed. I'll ask Elkor when I send him the next report unless you need the answer sooner."
"With the next report is fine, Steph. I'm going to spend some time practicing with hot and cold fields. If you think of something that I can do to improve performance, don't wait to be asked, okay?"
"Okay."
Working with hot and cold and something that I could see seemed to be the best approach. Sifting moisture from the air was a helluva field trick, but first I wanted to refine techniques with focusing, energy management, and localized effects.
When the sink was about half full of water, I stepped back a few paces and tried to send a cold spot to the surface of the water. A misshapen wad of ice started forming in the center of the sink, but once it was about an inch across, it didn't seem to want to get any bigger. I turned off the field and stepped over to see if I could figure out why.
The inch of ice on the surface was just the tip of the iceberg. Apparently my spot had been about an inch wide, beyond which the cold hadn't reached. The ice had formed, frozen deeper into the water, then rolled over to accommodate the new shape's displacement properties. What had appeared to be a one-inch wad was actually almost seven inches or so at its best width beneath the surface.
Round two. I tried sending a hot spot to the ice, but envisioned it as a warm globe instead of my previous laser-like beam. The ice tumbled repeatedly as it melted back into the surrounding water.
Stephie said, “It didn't explode this time, Ed. Congratulations are in order."
"Thank you for that left handed compliment, ma'am. I'm sure you were standing by to protect me again."
"Of course. You're my Ed."
It sounded strange to hear her use my name that way. How often had I said 'My Stephie?' I wondered if it had sounded strange to her, too, at first, or if she'd simply accepted my usage of the term.
I fiddled around freezing and melting the water until I'd gained a feel for handling different volumes and temperatures. I discovered that I could widen the field and freeze all of the water in the sink in about twenty seconds. I didn't try to see how fast I could melt it. That had already proven dangerous once.
Instead, I used larger and smaller focal points to melt the surface of the ice in a Celtic knotwork pattern. It was like trying to draw with a computer mouse at first. What I wound up with looked pretty good for a first effort at ice sculpture. Well, the lines and depths were fairly uniform, anyway, even if they weren't perfectly aligned.
Next came the matter of actually handling a fluid. Solids were easy. If they weren't too heavy, I could lift them or shove them. Fluids seemed to present a challenge. I melted all the ice and started with a clean slate, so to speak.
Trying to lift water required that I envision a container of some sort. Stephie told me that I should theoretically be able to simply attach my field to the water and lift it, but that picture never quite gelled in my mind, so I stuck with forming various containers for the moment.
The best trick I was able to manage was a pipe. I created a foot-tall cylinder and managed to lower the air pressure in it enough to draw water into it all the way to the top, then I field-capped both ends and turned the cylinder of water over and over, endwise above the sink, for a few moments.
The trick that wound up making a big mess was 'the parting of the waters'. I made a field wall the width and depth of the sink and dropped it into the water, then split the wall and moved the resulting two walls apart. At first there were leaks, so I dissolved the fields and started over, concentrating on sealing the fields against the walls and floor of the sink. It worked. Soon there was a six-inch gulf of open space from side to side within the sink.
"Pretty good, huh, Stephie? I may change my name to 'Moses'."
That's when the door chime sounded and someone beat on the door like a cop. You know; the 'bam-bam-bam-bam' they all seem to use on official visits.
I lost my concentration and the water slammed shut, then it rebounded enough to splash over the edge and soak the rug for a couple of feet around the sink.
I used my implant to ask, “Who are you and why are you beating on my door?"
"Station security, sir. We need to speak with you."
"Next time call ahead. And knock, but don't beat on the door. Just a minute."
I called Steph and asked for ID's on the visitors.
"They are Inspectors Williams and Price,” said Stephie.
"Do they look unhappy about something? Should I suit up for trouble?"
"No, they seem fairly placid, Ed."
"Thanks. Let's see what they want, then."
I opened the door to find a man and a woman in security uniforms standing outside, as advertised. Both were wearing blue blazers with a 3rd World patch on the front left side, uniform pants, and both carried dark blue pads. I wondered if the color was the only real difference between their pads and anyone else's.
He and she were both around five-ten and both had blue pads under their left arms. The woman was nearing thirty and had near-shoulder length hair. She seemed to be rather trim. The man, about the same age, looked as if he'd once played sports and maybe hadn't kept himself up so well since.
"Come on in,” I said. “I'm mopping up a mess. Be right with you."
Steph said, “I'll take care of the mess, Ed."
With that, the water seemed to rise out of the carpet. It coalesced on the fly and then poured itself back into the sink without the slightest splashing. A moment later the plug put itself on the drainboard and the sound of draining water was heard.
Boy, I have a looong fucking way to go with using fields, I thought.
"Wow. Thanks, Stephie. Wish I could do that."
I turned back to Williams and Price and asked, “What's up, guys?"
"Well, sir...” began the man, obviously discomforted for some reason, “I'm Inspector Williams. This is Inspector Price. We stopped by your office..."
"I have an office? Cool. But why do I need one? I have a watch, like everybody else. I have a pad. Stephie can find me instantly. I don't really think I need an office."
Price looked at Williams and vice versa.
Williams said, “Uh, well, sir, you do have an office. Would you like to see it?"
"Some other time. You didn't come here to tell me I have an office, did you?"
Price said, “No, sir. We came to ask you a few questions about one Leslie Pratt. She's applied for a temporary assignment. You were her only reference here."
I had trouble believing what I was hearing. Leslie had been vetted on Earth and found to be as clean as anyone older than puberty can be.
"What kind of temporary assignment?"
"She applied for consideration for—and seems qualified for—several positions."
"These aren't questions about her qualifications?” I asked.
"Uh, no sir,” said Williams. “This is a background check."
I looked at them for a moment with obvious disbelief, then said, “She was cleared on Earth, guys, or she wouldn't have been here as my secretary. She wouldn't be here at all, would she? This is bullshit. Who the hell ordered this background check?"
Price now looked discomforted as she said, “Our supervisor. Ms. Hawkins."
"Did she say why she thought Pratt needed a background check?"
"No, sir, she didn't."
"Is checking backgrounds part of your job descriptions, Price? Is this some kind of training? Are you likely ever to need to know how to run a check on someone?"
"No, sir. Backgrounds are exclusively handled by other offices on Earth."
"Then she's screwing around with you, me, or Pratt. Maybe all of us, but probably Pratt and me, because of certain recent events. Call her down here. Five minutes to be at my door or she's fired."
They were shocked. Stunned. Motionlessly staring at me. I waved a hand in front of their faces as if to wake them up.
"Hey! Now. Do it. Call her. Five minutes to be here."
Williams hurriedly placed the call on
his watch. Price raised a hesitant hand.
I said, “Yes?"
"Sir, it takes almost ten minutes to get here from her office."
"Where the hell is she? On the other side of this ball?"
"Yes, sir. She is. Well, almost."
"Okay. Ten. Or fired. Williams, did you get that?"
"Yes, sir. I'll tell her as soon as they put me through to her."
"Stephie, where's Hawkins?"
"She's in her office, Ed. Board Member Carlton is with her."
I looked at Williams and said, “Cancel that call. I'll call her and we'll see how fast they put me through."
He rather hesitantly let his arm fall.
Price said, “But, sir..."
Williams looked at her and she fell silent.
"Stephie, put me through to Carlton's and Hawkins’ watches, please."
Carlton's voice said, “Carlton. What is it, David?"
"This isn't your personal secretary, Carlton. This call was for Hawkins, but since you're there, you and Hawkins have ten minutes to be outside my door. Fail and you're fired. That's all. Get moving."
I turned to Williams and Price.
"I want witnesses. You stay. There's stuff in the fridge if you want a drink."
Neither moved nor spoke. I made myself a coffee as we waited. Thirteen minutes later Carlton and Hawkins arrived. Both tried to look composed as they entered my room. I didn't offer them seats at the little table.
Hawkins was a tall, good-looking brunette with an attitude. She glared at me and crossed her arms.
"Well?” she asked. “We're here. How about telling us why we're here."
"Thirteen minutes,” I said. “You're both fired. I wasn't kidding."
Hawkins snapped, “That's hardly fair. We had to wait for an elevator."
"Carlton, is that true?"
She seemed taken aback by my question and glanced at Hawkins.
"Of course it's true. Why..?"
"Stephie, is that true?"
"No, Ed. I made sure there was an elevator waiting for them."
Carlton started to say something, but I cut her off again.
"I hate liars. Stephie, put fields on all entrances to their offices, record any and all communications these two may make before they leave the station, and keep an eye on them. Tomorrow someone will escort them when they clean out their stuff."
"Yes, Ed."
Hawkins began a protest and Carlton joined her. I raised a hand.
"Both of you get out of my room. Now. Without another word. Go."
They didn't move instantly, but they did turn and leave. I turned to Williams and Price.
"I'm not a cop,” I said. “I'll need cops to make sense of cop stuff. You two were picked to come here and catch my heat for the Pratt checkup, weren't you? That would seem to mean you aren't Hawkins’ favorite people, either."
Price said, “You're right. We aren't the most popular team in the Security offices."
"That usually means you're too tight or too loose to suit the brass. Which is it?"
"It means we've questioned procedures,” said Williams. “Merritt ran Security during construction and the first quarter. Hawkins replaced Merritt when he went home. Everybody suddenly had to look busy all the time, even if they had to invent things to do. It turned pretty chickenshit around here overnight."
Price gave him a glaring glance at the word 'chickenshit'.
"Uh, huh. Who was Merritt's second in command, and is he or she still here?"
"Caitlin, Sandra P.,” said Price. “She's off duty right now. Probably asleep."
"Call her. Tell her I want to ask her a few questions and that she should come down here. No time limit and no anxiety, please. I want to see how she handles it."
Chapter Twenty-eight
Price called Caitlin, who answered on the second beep and sounded drowsy. Williams and I sat silently as Price relayed my request that she drop by my room. Caitlin asked if there was an emergency. Price looked at me before answering.
I shook my head and Price said, “No, he just wants to see you as soon as possible."
Caitlin said to give her time to get dressed and she'd be on her way.
"She'd have been in bed,” said Price. “Hawkins had her on a swing shift."
She made it to my room in good time. Twenty minutes was Price's guess, but Caitlin was at my door in fifteen or so. She was a tall, near-forty brunette in a uniform that had already seen a day's work. After a brief greeting, I pulled out a chair for her at my table. She hesitated a moment, then took off her hat and sat down as I took the other open chair.
"Carlton and Hawkins are out,” I said. “Fired. These two tell me that you were Merritt's second in command of security. Could you have done his job? No ego and no bull, please. We need to know for real."
I gestured around the table and emphasized, “That's 'we', not just me."
Caitlin glanced at Price and Williams and then looked at me as if searching for a trap. She put her hat on the table and tapped a nail a few times on the brim.
"Yes. Being able to take his place was part of my job."
"One moment, please. Price. Williams. Would this fly with the troops?"
They didn't even have to look at each other. Each nodded separately.
Price said, “Yes. Everybody knows her. Merritt used her extensively and trusted her with his authorization for everything, as far as I know. If he was off-station, she was in full command, not just answering his calls."
Caitlin was startled by Price's outpouring and stared at her as the last words left her mouth.
Price shrugged at her and said, “Well? That's the way it was."
"Good enough for me for now. Williams? You agree?"
He didn't hesitate. “Yes."
I turned to Caitlin. “Caitlin, will you take Hawkins’ job?"
Caitlin's stare at Price became a steady gaze at me.
"If this is real and there aren't any political strings, I'll take it. Do I get a night's sleep, first?"
"No strings. Do the job the way it's supposed to be done and I'll be happy. Check the office and make sure it can run itself for a night, then crash. Tomorrow you'll be supervising the removal of personal effects from two offices, then it's business as usual. Stephie, pop in and visit with us, please. Join us at the table."
Stephie's visual snapped into being a few feet from us and seemed to take a pace forward, then she pulled a chair from some nowhere zone behind her and sat down near the table. Mouths had fallen open around the table. I tapped the table with my coffee mug to get their attention.
"Everybody, this is Stephie. Stephie, this is everybody. Caitlin is now head of security on the station. Watch her and help her, of course. If she works out well, she's going to be keeping the job. If not, I need to know."
They were all still staring at Stephie as she smiled and said, “Okay, Ed."
Caitlin pulled her gaze from Steph and asked, “What about Carlton's spot? Who fills that vacancy? Hopefully not that toady she called an assistant?"
"Don't know yet. Suggestions are welcome."
Williams asked, “How about Pratt? She's really the only one on the station who's between jobs."
I said, “Pratt's a temp until a teaching job opens, Williams."
"Okay, but you still have an empty board chair. Pratt could fill it for now."
"For reasons I won't go into, that might look funny as hell to some people. Let me think about it. I'm not saying no. I'm only saying I want to consider it."
He nodded, but he seemed to think I'd shot his idea down.
"Caitlin, who's above the head of security on the station? Board members don't count. The level above them."
"That would be Linda Baines, at the Carrington training facility."
"Stephie, contact Linda Baines. Tell her what I've done with Caitlin and why and see if she agrees. Tell her about Williams's suggestion for Pratt, too. We'll let her be the deciding vote."
"Done, Ed. I'm wait
ing for a reply."
"Damn, you're good, ma'am. Got any comments of your own?"
"Caitlin can do Hawkins’ job. Pratt appears able do Carlton's job, but would she want Carlton's job? She'd be stepping down and into one of the other board members’ domains later by taking the teaching job. That could turn things internally political, and once you leave, her protection would be gone."
"You'd be here, though. We'll ask her tomorrow if Baines okays the idea."
Some minutes later, Linda's reply came in her usual terse form.
"Caitlin's a good choice. Pratt can replace Carlton as her temp job, but because the teaching position will put her under Barlow later, see if she's interested first. You're really stirring up that anthill, so be careful. Anything else?"
Facing Stephie, I said, “Nothing else. Thanks. End message."
To Caitlin, I said, “I guess that's it, then. Tell Pratt about the opening and see if she wants it. Tomorrow you'll arrange for Hawkins and Carlton to get their personals out of their offices. If there are no further comments or questions..?"
Nobody said anything. I stood up. They followed suit.
"Okay, then. I'm designing a padmail statement to go out this evening to everyone on the station, so I need to get to it. What happened here just now is not a secret, people. Feel free to discuss it with anyone. Time to go."
A round of handshakes and thanks and everybody was out the door. As the door shut I sat back down at the table and sipped my coffee.
"Stephie, how the hell did you make that water rise out of the carpet and flow back into the sink?"
"Practice, of course. What do you think I do with my spare time? Hang around waiting for you to call?"
"Guess not. That was pretty slick."
I set to work on the padmail memo to all station personnel. After much thought and a couple of rewrites, it simply read:
'To: All station personnel
The old station computer had been compromised by person or persons yet unknown, and rather than risk repeated compromisings of that computer, I've installed another core to restore and preserve station functions.
Your new computer's name is Stephanie. Please become familiar with her because she will be your station computer for at least the next six months.
Book 2: 3rd World Products, Inc. Page 29
