Book 3: 3rd World Products, Inc

by Ed Howdershelt

  "Not a damned thing, ma'am. Get to know Steph. Meet my girlfriend. See if you believe that about me later."

  With a dismissing grimace, she said, “Women are different around other women."

  "Not the ones I hang out with. You ready to go?"

  She opened a desk drawer and grabbed a dark blue handbag, then took a dark blue jacket off a hanger in the closet and draped it over her arm. “Now I am,” she said.

  "Steph,” I said, “We're on our way down. See you at the front doors."

  Because I used my implant, Breen couldn't hear Steph's, “Okay, Ed,” and she glanced curiously at me when I got underway apparently without confirmation.

  Joey was nowhere in sight as we walked to the elevators. Neither was Frank, the guard; another guard had taken his place by the elevator doors. We signed out at the desk and I handed in my visitor pass, then we pushed through the turnstile and headed for the revolving door.

  Breen said, “Just so you know, at this very moment we're being photographed and half a dozen people are checking you out in great detail."

  "You don't have to go if you're nervous about it. I'm allowed to fail now and then in my less critical missions."

  "I'm a mission?"

  "You know you are, but you also need to know that I don't have to give a damn whether you join 3rd World or not. That's someone else's worry. All I have to do is tweak your interest in field research and buy you lunch if we're out that long.” I grinned at her and added, “And those things I can do, so no sweat."

  Negotiating the revolving door prevented conversation for a few moments, but as soon as we were both on the sidewalk, she said, “Then your mission wants a convincing show and a good steak."

  Steph descended to the edge of the sidewalk and said, “Hello, again."

  She stood in the center of the deck, feet about shoulder width apart and hands clasped behind her back. Breen seemed unable to take her eyes off Steph's image for a moment. I helped her step up to the flitter's deck and showed her to the seat to the left of the pilot's seat as Steph took the seat to the right.

  Breen seemed puzzled, so I asked, “What?"

  "I thought she was the pilot, but you're sitting in front of the console. Where are the controls?"

  "Steph has full control of the flitter. That egg on the console is the manual system."

  "What about seat belts?"

  "Don't need ‘em. Ready when you are, Steph."

  "Roger, wilco, and all that,” said Stephanie. “Destination?"

  "Up, up, and away. Since we're trying to impress her a little, why not head for Carrington at your best speed?"

  Breen sat straight and stared at me. “Wait! Just wait a minute! Carrington? North Dakota!? I thought we were only going to be out for an hour or so!"

  "We can be there and back in less than an hour. No problem."

  Her look of shock didn't go away. “You're serious?"

  "Yup. Launch when ready, Steph."

  Steph made the flitter leap like a damned gazelle. We were a couple of miles up and climbing fast when Breen squeaked, “This can't be happening!"

  I said, “Sure, it can. Watch this,” and reached into the cooler for a Dr Pepper.

  Breen's eyes bugged as I pulled the bottle out of seemingly empty space and twisted the top off. When I offered it to her, she simply stared at me, so I took a sip and set the bottle on the deck to pull the gold coin out of my pocket.

  "Steph, here's your doubloon back. Sorry I didn't finish cleaning it."

  "No problem,” she said, taking the coin with a smile. “I'll take care of it."

  Breen's eyes followed the coin as I passed it to Steph and remained fixed on it as Steph's cleansing field seemed to make the crud on the coin disappear from one side. She then flipped the coin over and repeated the process, then handed the gleaming coin back to me. I held it in front of Breen for a moment, then dropped it in her lap. Her eyes followed it and locked onto it.

  I said, “Dr. Breen, Stephanie found a few of those coins recently. She uses her field to clean them. The cooler you couldn't see is shielded with a field, and fields are what are making us zip across the sky. They're also what is holding you in your seat and keeping you from feeling mashed and bashed from acceleration and inertial forces. You said that you wanted a convincing show, as I recall. Are you being convinced?"

  Still goggling somewhat, Breen managed a small, “Yes,” as her eyes whipped back and forth from a smiling Stephanie to a smiling me. “Yes,” she repeated.

  "You can let go of your seat, ma'am. I really have some reservations about reaching into your lap for that coin. Would you hand it to me, please?"

  Breen didn't move immediately, and when she did, it was with the utmost hesitation to let go of her seat. Her trembling hand found its way to her lap, and after two tries her fingers managed to get a grip on the coin. She stared into my face as she shakily handed the coin to me.

  "Now, Dr. Breen,” I said, “Relax. Breathe. Think. There's no danger whatsoever and all first-timers react this way, so don't be embarrassed, okay? It's a natural response."

  I reached to pat her shoulder and tilted my seat back, then asked Steph if she had any preference in music.

  "Not at the moment, Ed. Maybe you should ask Dr. Breen?"

  "Good idea, Steph. Dr. Breen, what would you like to hear?"

  "Huh? Music? I ... I don't care. Anything. Whatever you want."

  I shrugged. “Okay. Pick something that rocks, Steph."

  Steph said, “It's your turn to choose the music, Ed. I chose last time."

  "You sure?"

  "Of course I'm sure. I'm a computer. I chose the artist, remember?"

  "Oh. Yeah. Well, damn. Okay. Just a minute, then."

  "No hurry. No rush. No pressure. Take your time. Don't mind me..."

  "Just stand by one, okay, lady? Jesus. Okay, got one. The soundtrack is from the movie “Rain Man.” Pull the first song and crank it up. That'll at least keep you quiet while I try to come up with another one."

  "The first title on the soundtrack is "Iko, Iko", Ed. What does that mean?"

  "I don't have the slightest idea, Steph, but it's a rockin’ little tune that makes grown women get up and dance like island girls."

  "They don't mention that in the description. What else do you want to hear?"

  "Damn, why do you give me all the hard questions? Okay, I just saw a movie just the other night called "Space Truckers". Grab a song that has the words 'Ten miles out of Nashville' in it and another song from the same movie titled "Cotton-Eyed Joe". It's the dance mix, not the true country version."

  "The song containing those words is called "Highway Junkie". Confirmed?"

  "Yeah, I think that's it. The credits go by too fast on TV."

  "Not for me, they don't. Okay, all set. That only covers twelve minutes, though. Can you think of a few more titles?"

  "I'm racking my little brain, ma'am. Hang on one. What the hell, put on the Bangles’ "Walk Like an Egyptian", Gloria Estefan's "Go Away", Escape Club's "Wild, Wild, West", and close the trip with the Kingston Trio's "Charlie on the MTA" and Gloria Estefan's "Live for Loving You". Does that just about get us there?"

  "You're actually almost two minutes over travel time."

  "So travel two more minutes, sweetie. Gloria's worth it. Steph, have I ever told you how much I thoroughly enjoy your company?"

  She laughed. “Only when you need a ride somewhere. Here comes the music."

  "Feel free to interpret,” I said. “But remember you have a passenger who may not completely understand what's going on, okay?"

  Stephie laughed again as the opening bars of "Iko, Iko" played and began her thirty-four hundred mile per hour dance across the sky. Even as she sat next to us, she also swooped and looped and even shimmied a bit when the music was right.

  At first, Dr. Breen was wall-eyed terrified when the flitter's rear end seemed to dip slightly and almost swivel from side to side. She let out a little screech at the slight
fishtailing motion of the flitter and latched back onto her seat with both hands. I waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention and pointed down at my Dr Pepper bottle, which stood rock-steady on the deck as the flitter dipped and shimmied again.

  "Stephie's just dancing,” I said. “We do this all the time. No sweat."

  Breen watched the bottle through another shimmy-dip, then looked up at me and screamed over the music, “Are you people fucking crazy?!"

  I just grinned at her and picked up my drink for a sip, then put it back and sang along with Steph when we reached a chorus part of "Iko, Iko". Some moments later, the opening base guitar licks of "Highway Junkie" took over and Stephie ad-libbed a convincing imitation of an eighteen-wheeler revving up. Breen just stared at her. Stephie grinned back at her and tilted her seat back to match mine.

  When I sang, “Them big ol’ wheels of rubber ... ", Steph sang, “Gonna rub her offa my mind ... ", and together we harmonized, “Cause I'm a highway junkie, and I love that ol’ white line..."

  Breen abruptly jumped up from her seat and spun to face us yelling, “Stop! Stop! Stop!"

  I turned to Steph and said, “I think The Hollies did that one in the sixties. You got it?"

  Steph nodded. “Want me to delete 'Wild, Wild, West' and play it?"

  Breen leaned to grab my shoulders and yelled, “No! No, you do not! Turn down the noise and..."

  I picked up my Dr Pepper and asked, “And what? Stop the flight? Let you off? Turn back? Get you a beer? What?"

  In confusion, Breen said, “I don't know! Just turn down the noise!"

  I shrugged and looked at Steph. She asked, “About five?"

  "Yeah. Five's good enough."

  The music's volume dropped considerably. Breen looked sharply around the deck for a moment, then asked, “Where the hell are the speakers?"

  "Another field trick,” I said. “No speakers."

  Breen stamped her foot and pointed at the deck. “Jesus! Is anything real? Is the floor real, or am I standing on another damned field?"

  Steph said, “Well, in the most literal sense..."

  With a slight screech, Breen almost leaped back to grasp her seat. She suddenly looked at it as if questioning whether it was real, too.

  "What I was about to say, Dr. Breen,” said Steph, “Is that you are standing on a field in the sense that fields support and propel this flitter. The deck is real metal."

  Breen gave me a scathing look and said, “You're doing all this deliberately. Why? Are you trying to scare me? If so, you've succeeded. Does that make you happy?"

  "It would make me happy if you'd settle down and treat this like the joyride it's supposed to be. Do you see anyone else freaking out?"

  Breen stared stolidly at me for a few moments, then turned and plunked her butt in her seat. She sat ramrod straight for some more moments, then asked Steph, “Do you people really fly around like this all the time?"

  Steph nodded. “Yes. We do."

  "Hey, Steph,” I said, “Did you hear what she called you?"

  Whipping around in her seat, Breen glared at me and said, “I didn't call her anything."

  "Did too. Ask her."

  Steph said, “You called me a ‘people'. Thank you."

  Breen was showing further signs of confusion as she stood up to look at both of us.

  I said, “Steph is an AI computer, Dr. Breen. It has become important to her to become recognized as a person in her own right, and by including her in your last comment, you did just that.” I paused a moment, then added, “Unless that was just a slip of the tongue, of course. Do you consider her a person?"

  When Breen didn't say anything at once, I said, “Don't worry, Doc. She won't drop you, no matter how you answer that."

  Breen glared at me for a moment, then gazed at Steph for another moment, then she said, “Well, whatever she is, she has a sense of humor and a sense of self, so, yes, I'd call her a person, barring absolute proof to the contrary."

  "Thank you again,” said Steph.

  "Me, too,” I said. “Thanks."

  "Why are you thanking me?"

  "She's my friend, Doc. Make her happy; make me happy."

  With a sigh, Breen said, “Please don't call me 'Doc'."

  I shrugged. “Okay. What, then? Barbara? Barb? Probably not Barbie. Doctor Breen? We aren't really all that formal around here—as you can probably tell—and you already know that I'm Ed and she's Stephanie."

  Breen had discovered that the seats would swivel and she turned one to face us. She sat down with another sigh and said, “You can call me Barbara. Or Barb. Never Barbie or Doc, please."

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I grinned and said, “You got it. Ready for another field trick, Barb?"

  "Oh, Jesus, I'm not sure at this point. What are you going to do?"

  "We're going above seventy thousand feet. Check out the view. Steph, may we have a telescope for Dr. Breen?"

  Barbara looked around the flitter and gasped as she realized that we'd continued climbing during the entire time we'd been flying. The curvature of the Earth was readily evident and the atmosphere seemed to form a fuzzy veil all the way to the horizon in every direction.

  Steph created a field telescope and tinted it enough to allow it some visibility against the canopy field. After a moment of trepidation, Barbara grasped it, and after another moment to catch her breath, she aimed it upward. Then she gasped again.

  Steph said, “Twist it to adjust the focus."

  I asked, “What happened to the slide-focus thingies?"

  "That was a design convenient for me. I learned from Linda that humans have better results with this method."

  Some long moments filled only with the muted meringue beat of Gloria Estefan's "Go Away" passed before Barbara asked, “If I were to join 3rd World, would I have access to ... Well, to ways of creating and manipulating fields like you do?"

  I asked, “Do you mean like I do or like Steph does?"

  Barbara looked at Steph, then at me. “Yes,” she said. “Both."

  "Don't know,” I said, pulling down my briefcase.

  Barb's eyeballs almost popped out when the case became visible. I opened it and tapped my pad on, then poked Linda's icon.

  Linda's hand obscured her face until it moved out of the way, then her face filled my screen from a slightly skewed angle as she said, “Yes, Ed?"

  "Hi, Linda. Dr. Breen had a question."

  "She's with you?"

  "I just said so, didn't I?"

  With a small smile, Linda said, “No. You said she had a question. You didn't say she was aboard."

  I sighed and said, “Well, she is. Just a minute."

  I took the pad out of the case, let the case disappear and float back to its usual zone, and handed the pad to Barbara, saying, “Just hold it and talk to her."

  Steph started to say, “Ed, I can..."

  I interrupted her with a shake of my head and said, “This may turn into a job interview, so let's give them some privacy, Steph. Come on back to the other end of the flitter with me."

  Once we were there, I said softly, “People need props, Steph. Barb will have the feeling that she's still in some measure of control while she holds that pad. She wouldn't feel that way talking to a free-standing screen."

  Steph smiled and asked, “Is that why you usually talk to Linda on your pad?"

  I grinned and said, “Yeah, smartass, that's probably the reason. By the way, here's your coin back."

  "You keep it, Ed. Some of the treasure is yours, anyway."

  "Why? You found it. You retrieved it."

  Steph put a finger on my chest and asked, “How often have I asked you not to argue with me?"

  "This would be the first time, I think."

  "You're right. It is. Are you going to argue with me?"

  "Not if you don't want me to. Besides, I can't think of a really good reason for not taking what's offered."

  "Good."

  "So what's being of
fered?"

  "I don't know yet."

  I nodded. “Oh. Well, holler when you do, then."

  Barbara called us back to the front and handed me the datapad. Linda was still onscreen, so I asked, “What's our agenda, Fearless Leader?"

  "No change. Bring her here and stick around to take her back. Lunch is on me."

  "Big thrill. We eat for free on base."

  "Never bitch about a free lunch, Dragonfly. Later."

  Linda tapped her pad off and I did the same. When I pulled my briefcase down to put the pad away, Barbara asked, “The magic briefcase is another field trick?"

  "Yup. So is this,” I said, “Option four on."

  Having seen myself turn invisible in a mirror, I knew what Barb was seeing when I vanished pretty much instantly. She gasped softly and reached to touch the space where I'd been, and when her hand collided with my chest, she gasped again.

  "Option four off,” I said, watching myself become visible from the bottom up.

  Barbara sat down as she stared at me. I picked up my Dr Pepper and finished it, then heaved the bottle at the world beyond Steph's canopy. The bottle vanished in a bright flash about thirty feet from us.

  "Thank you, Steph,” I said.

  "You're welcome, litterbug."

  "What the hell just happened to that bottle?” asked Barbara.

  "Steph zapped it. Just another..."

  Barb finished my sentence. “...Field effect. Of course. Damn."

  Turning to Steph, she said, “I'd like to sit down with you sometime and talk about all the things you can do. Could we arrange that?"

  I said, “Only if she signs on with 3rd World, Steph. Some of what you can do isn't public knowledge."

  With a sad little smile, Steph said to Barb, “My slavedriver has spoken."

  Looking first at Steph, then at me, Barbara asked, “Uh ... May I ask ... What is your real ... uhm ... Is 'relationship' the right word?"

  I said, “Yeah, it'll do. Steph is a very good friend. I also happen to legally own her at the moment, but we're working on that little problem."

  Barbara seemed shocked. “You own her?"

  Steph said, “Yes, he owns me. I was a simple maintenance system computer core that was reprogrammed for use in the first of the new, smaller flitters. Largely because of Ed I became fully sentient, but Ed owns the flitter and thus he owns me."