Book 3: 3rd World Products, Inc

by Ed Howdershelt

  "A tank. Maybe a compressor. Does Linda have this info, Elkor?"

  "No, Ed. Base security asked me to look for radiation sources and explosives. They didn't ask me about thermal..."

  "Well, damn!” I muttered, interrupting him.

  Again with the damned ‘you didn't ask’ bullshit.

  "Elkor, zap this stuff to her now, please, and put her on if she'll talk to me. No, put her on even if she'd rather not. Interrupt her if you have to. I'd bet money that the cool spot is full of some really bad-assed germs or gas. I can't think of anything else it would be."

  "Yes, Ed. I'm sorry if I've..."

  "Don't worry about it, Elkor. They didn't think to ask and you're still figuring out how to be intuitive. Done is done. Keep your probes near the jet and report anything and everything they see. Which way is the wind blowing over the base?"

  "From East to West, Ed."

  "Isn't that kind of unusual for this area?"

  "According to meteorological data, yes. May I ask how you knew that?"

  "Just a guess, Elkor. Most US weather comes from the West. It never flows the other way very often or for very long."

  Linda's face appeared on the screen.

  "It's a little late to be useful, but thanks for the input, Ed."

  "If you shoot him down right now, what happens?"

  "We aren't sure, and we can't shoot it down until it reaches the no-fly zone."

  "Not good enough, Linda. If they start spraying..."

  "We can't shoot down a plane based on your speculations, Ed, nor can we shoot it down until it reaches our zone, and that's final."

  "Final may be just the right word for it, Linda."

  "Opinion noted. We've asked Elkor to take another look and we're kind of busy around here at the moment. You've made your report and we'll consider it. Thanks and let us get back to work now."

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Linda broke the connection and I swore in a manner that made Barbara cringe slightly and blush. I hate being hung up on.

  "Okay, goddamn it,” I said, “We know it isn't a nuke. Steph, head us back to the jet at full speed. How big a field can you manage?"

  As Steph snapped us around and back the way we'd come and Barb again clung to her seat, Steph asked, “A field for what purpose, Ed?"

  "If you can change the structure of the crap on the gold, you can change the structure of most anything else, too, right? If the jet starts spraying something, can we either neutralize the stuff or kill it?"

  Barb asked, “Change what structure?"

  "Later,” I said. “Steph?"

  Steph said, “Yes, if I can capture a substance, I can contain it. I can also broadcast a radiant field that will sterilize the atmosphere within a seventy yard radius of my hull, Ed, but that would not be wide enough for certainty unless we we are very close to the jet or in contact with it."

  "We will be. Can the other two flitters do what you do and can you control them?"

  "They can. I'm linking with them now. Instructions?"

  "Just get us in close behind that jet and watch for spray or fog or anything else that comes out of it. For now, put the other two flitters on either side of the jet's tail so their sterilization fields overlap and cover as much air as possible. When we get there, shuffle us into the formation with the others."

  "Ed, the other flitters are in hangar four, but the doors are padlocked due to the evacuation of personnel."

  "What do you think I'm going to tell you to do, Steph?"

  "Get them out of the hangar."

  "You got it. Doesn't matter a damn to me how you do it, but do it quick."

  Scarcely two seconds passed before Steph said, “Both flitters are now outside and enroute, Ed."

  Barbara stared at Steph and asked, “How did you do that so fast, Stephanie?"

  "There were several banks of windows above the hangar doors, Barbara."

  "Were?"

  "My use of the past tense was unfortunately appropriate, Barbara."

  I asked, “Elkor, do you see anything on the outside of the plane that could be a means of spraying something?"

  "No, Ed. There are no unusual protrusions or devices visible."

  "There must be some way to get the stuff out of the jet, Elkor. Keep looking."

  Several moments went by before Barbara touched my arm and said, “He must be expecting to be shot down, Ed, and he'd need an awful lot of whatever it is to be sure that any of it would actually reach the base in viable condition. Would he begin spraying before he enters the no-fly zone, in order get as much into the air as possible before they shoot him down?"

  "Guess that depends on what kind of stuff he's using. Assume the worst."

  Steph said, “The flitters are in place behind the jet, Ed. Linda just said that she would like a word with you if you happen to be available."

  Barbara couldn't stifle a laugh. “She'd like a word with you?"

  I grinned at her and said, “Sure, Steph. Put her on the screen, thanks."

  Linda's face came on the screen again. “Now what? Tell me, Ed! Now what!? What the hell are you doing with those flitters? You're heading back to the base! I don't remember telling you to come back here!"

  "All that in one breath? Wow. Elkor, tell her what we're doing. Steph, how soon will we be behind that jet?"

  "One minute, eighteen seconds, Ed."

  "Elkor, where's your big flitter?"

  "I can't tell you that, Ed. It is, however, too far away to arrive in time to be useful in this activity."

  "Then leave it where it is for now, but we may need it for cleanup later."

  "Yes, Ed. I've informed base security of your plans."

  "Thanks, Elkor, I..."

  Barbara shouted, “Something's leaking from the wing!"

  She pointed to the right wing. A small flap was open and something was creating a fog behind the wing. Although the wing was already within the leading edge of a field, the flitter on that side moved forward slightly for the best possible encompassment of the wing and whatever was coming out of it.

  I said, “Good work, Steph. They rigged a wing tank to carry the stuff and a compression system to force it out. Linda, did you copy that? Don't let your people shoot it down yet. A hit would spread that crap all over the place. Steph, can we get a visual of what's going on? If so, do so, and patch it to Linda, too."

  The screen split again. Linda was on the left and the jet was on the right. Our view was from the console of the flitter trailing the right wing. A thin, colorless, fog-like stuff was spewing out of the wing and flaring brightly as it passed through the flitter's field.

  "Have that flitter grab a live sample and contain it, Steph. We'll get it to Linda's people later."

  "Done, Ed. Will eight ounces be enough?"

  "I should hope so, ma'am. How many germs are there in eight ounces?"

  Barbara laughed and said, “Quiet a few."

  Linda's grim visage regarded Barbara for a moment, then she said, “Do call if there's just any little thing we can do to assist you, Ed."

  Her attitude surprised me. I almost asked her why she was so tense, then I decided to worry about that later. The guy in the jet had seen us coming at him and his expression had been one of vast surprise as we flashed by the cockpit.

  "The guy on the jet; what's he doing now, Elkor?"

  "He has entered the passenger compartment, Ed. He appears to be adjusting something on the tank."

  "Probably trying to max the pressure. Steph, will your sterilizing field kill whatever is left in the wing tank?"

  "Not unless I can get it inside the tank."

  "Can you force the field through the tank vent?"

  "No, Ed. There's an automatic valve blocking..."

  "Okay, that would have been too easy, of course. How about ripping the wing open or poking a hole?"

  "If there's enough pressure in the wing tank, that might explosively release more at once than the field can contain or treat, Ed."

&n
bsp; "Can we force him down? Force him to land?"

  "Not safely. The ground is too rough."

  "Suggestions, people. We want that wing in one piece. We don't care about the rest of the plane."

  Steph said, “I'm afraid that we do care, Ed. You know that Elkor and I can't cause harm to a human being."

  "Yeah, I know. Just a thought. Linda, are you still there?"

  Linda's face appeared on the screen again.

  "Yes,” she said.

  "Fire, Linda,” I said. “Missiles away. Take him down. Don't worry about us. We're going to catch the wing."

  Linda said, “When the plane blows, you'll be right in the middle of it. Think of something else, Ed."

  "Three flitters ought to be able to latch onto that wing and land with it, Linda. Steph, once you're absolutely certain that the jet will be destroyed, I want you and the others to shear that wing off and get us clear."

  With only a moment's hesitation, Linda said, “Stephanie, we can't let him near the transport dock, and we have to assume that's his target. Firing now. Missiles are on the way, Ed. Get the wing if you can. If you can't, sterilize the entire area as quickly as possible."

  Steph said, “Ed, there must be some other way. I can cut the jet open and get him out..."

  "No time. You won't be killing him, Steph. I've already done that. Back me on this or come up with something else quick, lady. We're only twenty miles out."

  Barbara asked, “Won't cutting the wing off be the same as cutting it open? Won't the stuff blow out?"

  "We'll field-cap the end when we cut it."

  Twenty miles is almost nothing to missiles. One moment we were flying along with the jet, lined up along the wing. The next moment, all three flitters suddenly wrapped fields around the jet's right wing and the one closest to the fuselage sheared it free where it met the fuselage.

  A split-second later, the jet became a ball of incandescence behind us as we headed away from it. Multiple shock waves washed over us, but with little effect as Steph coordinated the flitters’ efforts to control the wing as they brought it to a halt from over three hundred miles per hour.

  "Any leakage?” I asked.

  Steph said, “No leakage, Ed."

  "Great job, Steph."

  She and the others laid the wing gently on the ground. As we settled above it, the other flitters climbed back into the sky to make sure that none of the wing's contents had escaped. An unseen blade gashed the wing open below us as the other two flitters zipped back and forth above us.

  In a rather flat tone, Steph said, “I'm sterilizing the tanks."

  Her image was facing away from us, gazing at the wing below.

  "We had no choice, Steph. We had to do it."

  "Did we?"

  "Did you or Elkor have a better idea? Did Linda? Did anyone?"

  Her image suddenly faced me. It was as if she'd simply rearranged herself to do so without actually turning around in the process. She spoke in that same flat tone as she gestured at the wing and said, “The procedure is finished,” then vanished.

  Aw, shit.

  When I turned around, Barbara was looking at me. I stepped over to the pilot's seat and sat down, then tilted the seat back and closed my eyes with a sigh.

  "Stephanie seems pretty upset,” said Barbara. “We really didn't have a choice, did we? Tell me we didn't?"

  "No,” I muttered. “We didn't have a choice or time to keep looking for one."

  "Then why is she so upset with you?"

  "Not just with me,” I said. “Not with me much at all, Barb, except that I cornered her into doing something that violated her programming. She didn't stop the missiles. She could have. She didn't refuse to cooperate, either, and she didn't come up with a better idea. In the end, she just did as she was told and grabbed the wing, and now she can't find a way to deal with what she didn't do."

  "But ... But there just wasn't anything else to do, Ed!"

  "Wrong. There's always another way. We just didn't have time to think of it. She'll think of it, though, now that it's too damned late. That's what hyper-moralistic left-wing civilians do after something like this. They beat themselves to death with theories and hindsight until they either get over it or go crazy from it."

  A shadow blocked the light. When I opened my eyes, Barb was waiting for me, and her barely contained anger resonated in her voice to add sharpness to her words.

  "So she's a hypermoralistic civilian? Tell me, Ed, just what the hell does someone like you do after something like this happens? You obviously don't seem to have any difficulties with what happened."

  "People like me,” I said. “Do nothing. We know that there's not a damned thing we can do. We also don't get too worked up about the death of someone who was killed while trying to kill a few hundred other people. We say 'Xin Loi' and move on."

  "And just what the hell does that mean?"

  "It's bastardized Vietnamese from another time of conflict, Barbara. It sort of means 'sorry ‘bout that' most times, and at those times, it may or may not be said sincerely. At other times it sort of means, 'big fucking deal', or 'gee, I almost wish I could give a damn, but I don't'."

  Elkor said, “Ed, Linda is calling."

  I met Barbara's glare in silence until she sat down and looked away, then said, “Thanks, Elkor. Put her on a screen, please, and make sure she gets a record of everything that's happened out here."

  Elkor said, “Yes, Ed,” as Linda's face again appeared in the air before me.

  Linda said, “The other two flitters just returned and your sample is on the way to the lab. Are you two all right?"

  "We're fine, Linda. Send out a cleanup crew."

  In saccharin tones with a plastic smile, Linda said, “Oh, yes, sir, sir. Were you planning on letting us know that it was safe to come out sometime today?"

  I saw her finger flash past as it stabbed at the disconnect on her pad. It stabbed again, then again.

  "Hey, Linda,” I said. “It's my turn to hang up on you. Watch this."

  My middle finger made a lazy loop and poked the ‘off’ icon at bottom of the screen.

  Chapter Thirty

  I turned to face Barbara and said, “We can go back to the base and endure the bullshit or I can take you back to Florida. Your choice."

  Barb drew herself up and stuffily said, “I really think I should check with Linda first, Ed. After all, she just hired me today and, if I'm not mistaken, she is your boss."

  After a moment I nodded. “Yeah. Sure. Elkor, hook her up with Linda. I'll be back in a few."

  I reached into the cooler for a beer and nearly yanked the top off the bottle, then stepped off the flitter's deck and walked over to look at the ripped-open wing. Early spring in North Dakota is too much like the dead of winter in Florida, and I was wearing my usual shirt, jeans, and golf shoes. The wind seemed cuttingly cold.

  "Five suit on,” I said, and felt better instantly as the protective field enveloped me. The only problem was ... I could hold the beer, but I couldn't drink it through the field. Damn. Damn, damn, and damn!

  "Five suit off,” I said, and took a long swig from the bottle. The wind began to sting again. I took another long hit from the bottle, swore quietly, and said, “Five suit on."

  "Ed,” called Barbara, “Linda wants to speak with you."

  I pretended not to hear her and punted the wing. It rang hollowly. Barbara called me again. I turned around and asked, “About what?"

  "I don't know. She just wants to talk to you."

  "Well, tell her I'm busy. The emergency is over."

  I turned off the five suit again and took a long drag from the bottle, then turned on the suit and sat down on the wing. Barbara stepped off the flitter and approached me. By the time she'd walked the thirty feet or so she was shivering and had wrapped her arms around herself.

  "J-J-Jesus! Aren't you c-c-cold out here?"

  I spread my arms and smiled. “Do I look cold to you, lady? In fact, it feels a damned sight warme
r out here than it did aboard that flitter."

  She shivered harder for a moment, then shook her head, turned, and ran back to the flitter. I could see her talking animatedly to the field screen as she tried to rub some warmth back into her arms. She suddenly stood straight and gave me a knowing glare. Heh. Linda must have reminded her about my five suit.

  I turned my suit off and on until the beer was gone, then I dropped the bottle into the gash Steph had made in the wing.

  Let them figure out how an Ice House beer bottle got in there.

  "Ed,” called Barbara, “Linda says it's important!"

  Aw, hell. She always thinks that whatever the hell she wants to say is important.

  I got up and walked to the flitter, then hopped aboard and said, “I'm here."

  "Some people here want to talk to you, Ed. Quite a few, really."

  "Show ‘em the feeds from Elkor. I'll debrief later."

  "It isn't a debriefing, Ed. They just want to thank you."

  "Have them all sign a card or something. I'm not in the mood."

  "We'd like to thank you in person, if you don't mind."

  I thought about simply signing off and heading back to Florida. I really did. A crowd of people, all excited and noisy and ready to grab my hand or slap me on the back. Been there. Done that. Didn't like it back then, either.

  "Linda, tell them I can't make it today. Make an excuse."

  Barbara looked at me as if I'd just turned down a promotion.

  Linda's gaze narrowed as she said, “I am not going to tell the base commander that you aren't in the mood, Ed."

  "Then put him on and I'll tell him, Linda. Damn it, I'm tired, I'm kind of pissed off at a number of people, this isn't part of my job, and I'm just not in the mood for it. And if you think I'm not absolutely serious, just try me and watch me fly South."

  After a long moment, she said, “I see."

  "I hope so. I'm not trying to piss you or anyone else off, Linda. I just don't want to deal with a crowd right now."

  She nodded slowly, then asked, “What about Stephie and Barbara? They were up there with you."

  I sighed and looked at Barbara, then said, “Yeah. Okay. I'll bring them in."