Book 3: 3rd World Products, Inc

by Ed Howdershelt

  The little group broke up with another round of handshakes and the office emptied within a couple of minutes. I sat down in the chair by the desk and sipped my beer.

  Wallace looked around and spotted his beer on the corner of the desk. He picked it up, opened it and swigged some of it, then parked his butt on the desk where the beer had been as he looked at me speculatively. I knew the look. It was 'How tough is he?'

  Linda was in the process of sitting down when Wallace fixed his gaze on my golf shoes and said in a supercilious tone, “You aren't anything like what I expected, Ed."

  Linda froze halfway into her chair and in an ominous tone said, “Emory..."

  He glanced back at her and said, “I was only making conversation, Linda."

  I said, “Yeah, Linda. He was only making conversation. Let him have some more rope and we'll see if any of it winds up around his neck."

  Wallace turned back to me and gave me a long gaze.

  "All right,” he said, “Maybe that wasn't the best opener I could have used, but I've seen your file, Ed, and I was in the ready room downstairs today when you did your about-face and—without authorization of any sort—you attacked that jet with a civilian aboard your aircraft."

  "She's not an aircraft, Cap, and if you've ever actually seen my file, it was obviously from a distance. People who have read it tend to give me the benefit of the doubt."

  "How other people view you is beside the point. Did you happen to ask Dr. Breen whether she wanted to participate in an attack on a jet that might have been carrying a nuclear weapon?"

  I stood up and walked to within a few feet of Wallace.

  "One,” I said. “We knew he didn't have a nuke aboard. Two, you and Barbara don't know enough about Steph's capabilities or mine to own a valid opinion about our actions. Three, Cap, is that you don't have all the facts or you're deliberately ignoring them. If you want a damned debate, go back to Washington."

  He stood up and tapped his insignia of rank.

  "See these? Do you have any? Who the hell are you to decide whether we know enough about flitters?"

  "A guy who owns one. I'd also like to point out that although there are hundreds of Earthies and Amarans on this base, the other two flitters were in a locked hangar. They were not in the air until I busted them out and stuck ‘em on the backside of that jet. Your military rank doesn't mean shit to me, mister; only your ability to do your job when it involves Linda and me matters a damn. By the way, what the hell is your job around here?"

  He glowered at me and stood up, then he seemed to realize something beyond his anger. He gave Linda a startled look and asked, “This guy owns a flitter? How the hell did that happen, Linda? There aren't enough of them for essential services yet."

  "I was the first guy in line,” I said. “Besides that, they were my idea.” Turning to Linda, I asked, “Are you satisfied with how Steph and I handled the jet, Linda?"

  Wallace looked at her with gaping amazement as she leaned her chair back and answered, “Yes. Well done."

  Turning back to Wallace, I said, “About the jet, Linda's opinion is the only one in this room that means a fat damn to me, Cap. She knows me and she knows Stephanie."

  Turning to face Steph, I asked, “And you heard that, too, right? She said yes."

  Stephanie looked me right in the eyes as she said, “Yes, Ed. I heard her."

  Linda's tense look changed to one of general irritation, then she stood up and said “Enough, damn it. If you and Stephanie have some personal issues to work out..."

  I said, “Sure. No problem. But they won't be personal issues if they interfere with my assignments, will they?"

  Linda looked at Steph, then at me as she asked, “They haven't so far, have they? Just get past them or let me know if you can't. As far as I'm concerned, you two are a team, so act like one."

  Wallace leaned back against the desk, looked speculatively at Steph, and asked, “Well, now, have I missed something, here? How is this woman involved in anything that happened today? She came here with Dr. Breen, didn't she?"

  I said, “She multitasks really well, Cap."

  Barbara snickered, then let out a muffled squeak of a laugh. Even Linda grinned.

  Wallace gave me a 'shut up' look and turned to face Stephanie.

  "Well? How about it, ma'am?” he asked, “What's your connection to ol’ Ed, here?"

  Linda said, “Emory, don't be difficult. It's all in the files."

  Turning to face Linda, Wallace said, “I'll read them later. This is the guy you worried yourself sick about when he was on the station, isn't he? He's what we were arguing about when we broke up that night. A woman named Stephanie was up there with him, and that concerned you, too. I think I need to know what, exactly, you were worried about, Linda. Was it is mission, his survival, or the fact that a woman who looks like her was up there with him?"

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I said, “That was a compliment, Steph. He thinks you're kinda cute."

  Steph drily said, “Obviously. Thank you, Captain Wallace."

  After staring at Wallace for a full five seconds, Linda burst out laughing. Wallace didn't like that at all. He stood up, stepped away from the desk, and looked at Steph and me with glaring eyes.

  "What's so goddamned funny?” he asked Linda.

  Linda laughed again, but her laughter stopped abruptly when Steph asked, “Yes, Linda, what's funny? While it would be difficult to accomplish, I can be harmed."

  Wallace looked at her as if she might be nuts. I could see that Steph had genuinely not understood either the reason for Wallace's anger or Linda's laughter. Linda, however, suddenly looked alarmed and raised a placating hand toward Steph.

  "Oh, Stephie, I wasn't laughing at you, honey. I was laughing at Emory. He thinks that you and Ed were having an affair while you were on the station."

  Steph's quizzical gaze fell on Wallace. He looked slightly apologetic, but he didn't seem ready to back down.

  "I'm sorry, ma'am,” he said, “But ... Well, I mean ... Look at you! And your name crops up every time his does. Everywhere, all the time, on or off duty. Ops teams just aren't quite that close, ma'am. Not unless..."

  Linda burst out laughing again, and this time both Barb and Steph joined her. Wallace was now confused as well as angry. He didn't seem to take being laughed at very well.

  "Steph,” I said, “Why not show this overpaid sailor how quickly you can change into your volleyball outfit?"

  She looked at me uncertainly, then at Linda. Wallace's expression said that he now thought I was nuts, too.

  Linda said, “Sure, Steph. Go ahead."

  She might not have said that if she'd known that Steph's volleyball outfit was a bikini.

  Steph seemed to shimmer, then reform her surface until her absolutely stunning figure was encased only in three triangles of field-generated emerald-green fabric.

  Wallace's mouth fell open and his eyes nearly bugged out. I couldn't tell if this was in reaction to her method of changing or her goddess-like figure. Or both.

  A soft, "Jeeezzzuusss!" sounded to my left. Barbara seemed dumbstruck as she stared at Steph. Her eyes tracked down, then up, Steph's figure, then retraced their path once more.

  Damn. Not only did I forget she was there, I forgot she was a lesbian. Oh, well. If she wasn't sufficiently impressed with Steph before, she is now.

  Linda tore her gaze from Steph and glanced at Wallace. She didn't like what she saw. “Steph,” she said, “Change back, please. Now. This isn't Las Vegas."

  Steph shimmered again and her jacket and skirt outfit replaced the bikini.

  "Thank you,” said Linda. “Ed, that was a dirty trick that I'll get you for someday. Count on it. Emory, she's a field image, not a real woman. Pull your tongue back in."

  Wallace looked at Linda, then at me. I grinned. He didn't. His gaze went back to Steph and he managed, “Huh? A what?"

  I walked over and put an arm around Steph's shoulders with a big grin.


  "She's a computer-generated field image, Cap, and probably the finest-looking one anybody will ever see. She's also the brain in my flitter, my personal friend, and a helluva nice person.” I gave Steph's shoulders a squeeze and added, “In fact, she's a little too nice at times, but whatthehell, nobody's perfect."

  Steph gave me a sharp look, then faced Wallace and said, “I'm a computer, Captain Wallace. This is simply a form I use when interacting with people."

  "And a damned fine form it is, too,” I said, “But there's nothing simple about it."

  Steph and Linda both said, “That's enough, Ed,” although it seemed to me that Steph merely chimed in and closely followed Linda's verbal lead. They weren't quite in unison. More like harmony. Close, but not quite together.

  "Hey, Cap,” I said, “Here's a sitrep: If we don't reboot this meeting, we're gonna have a fight sooner or later. What say we leave the ladies here and go outside for a talk? You know; get things over with one way or the other. Right now."

  He tore his eyes off Steph and looked at me skeptically for a moment. “A talk, huh? About what, exactly?"

  Linda rather warningly said, “Ed, don't..."

  I cut in with, “Just a talk. Maybe another beer. Maybe we'll find a way to avoid the fight. Maybe won't, and we'll just get the fight out of the way now. Whatever."

  Linda said, “Ed, stand down. Now. Emory..."

  Wallace interrupted her with, “Sounds good to me, ol’ buddy. The beer first?"

  I nodded. “Yeah. The beer first. They're in the flitter."

  When I turned and headed for the door, Wallace again beat me to it, holding it open for me with a smile.

  Linda was on her feet and rounding her desk. “Ed! Emory! Get back here!"

  We stopped just outside the door. I pointed at the door and used a field to pull it shut before she could reach it.

  Wallace looked at me and asked, “It's true, isn't it? You have a working implant?"

  I nodded. “Yup, and I don't really need to point at things to use it. That's just theatrics."

  He faced me squarely as the door opened. Without looking at her, he told Linda that we'd be back in a few minutes. She started to say something and he cut her off with, “Damn it, take a break, will you? This is between us. We'll let you know how it goes."

  Linda looked at me in some strange combination of imploring demand.

  I shrugged and said, “Sounds good to me. Back in a few, Linda."

  For once, she backed down. I'd expected more argument, but she simply glared at us for a moment before shutting the door unnecessarily firmly.

  "I think she's pissed,” I said.

  "You think right,” said Wallace. “You aren't thinking of using that implant to sucker punch me, are you?"

  I looked right into his eyes and said, “Nope."

  He met my gaze for a moment, then said, “Uh, huh. Okay, let's go."

  We headed outside to the flitter and got aboard. Wallace looked around the seemingly empty craft and asked, “So where's the beer?"

  I gestured him to one of the seats and reached into the cooler to pull out two Ice Houses, then put a finger to my lips to silence him as he reacted to beer bottles appearing from nowhere.

  "Steph,” I said.

  She appeared between us, startling the living hell out of Wallace, who jumped out of his seat and backed up a couple of paces.

  "Yes, Ed?” said Steph, glancing unconcernedly at Wallace.

  "No monitoring, please. Like I said, this is between us."

  "I'd prefer to..."

  "No. If we decide to fly, I'll tell you. No monitoring. Now leave us to sort this out."

  After casting a decidedly disapproving gaze at me, then at Wallace, Steph disappeared from the bottom up, leaving only her eyes hanging in space for a moment before making those disappear, as well. Wallace took a moment to compose himself, then opened his beer and drank quite a bit of it.

  "You have an unusual friend, there,” he said.

  "Yup. Sure do. That's what I was trying to tell you in there, Cap."

  I opened my own beer and drank some before sitting in the pilot's seat.

  "Do we really have a problem?” I asked. “You've got Linda, Cap. She and I learned a long time ago that we don't get along for very long off-duty. A few months here and there were all we ever managed before we blew up at each other."

  Leaning slightly toward him as if imparting confidential information, I added, “She's kind of bossy sometimes, y'know. Real bossy, in fact."

  Wallace was in the middle of sipping his beer. He snorted beer and laughed.

  "Yeah. She is that, and more often than not."

  "Damned right, Cap. You've been with her over eight months. That's twice as long as I've ever managed to stay with her during the last thirty years."

  That seemed to shock him slightly.

  "Thirty years? I thought you were one of 3rd World's people; some kind of retread retiree from one of the federal outfits. How the hell could you have you known Linda for thirty years?"

  I laughed and said, “Woo, day-um! Maybe—just maybe—she hasn't told you every little thing about herself, guy. What do you really know about her, Wallace? I mean, about what she did before she joined 3rd World?"

  "Maybe not as much as I thought, apparently. She's mentioned that she worked for the US government in Europe and elsewhere. I know she was in the Navy before that; it's one of the things we had—have—in common."

  I nodded. “Well, I don't know how much I can tell you without checking with her, but I guess can tell you that I began working with her in 1971 and I've worked with or for her off and on ever since then, up until I retired in ‘85. When the Amarans showed up, I was called back to active. By Linda."

  Wallace sat back against his seat and gazed at me for some moments before he said, “So you aren't just an old boyfriend."

  I smiled and said, “Oh, no, Cap. Nothing as trivial as that. I've been on both sides of her fence and found that I prefer being on this side, but the real issue right now is how well you and I are going to get along. She seems to want to keep us both, and I don't think we really have anything to bump heads about. Would you agree to that much?"

  He looked at me examiningly for a moment, then asked, “Your word that your relationship with her is business only?"

  "You got it, Cap. As I said, been there, done that. Besides, there's a lady in Florida who would not understand. In fact, it took her quite a while to finally believe that I was actually coming up here to work."

  He seemed to root around inside his head for a moment, then said, “Describe her."

  "Red hair, tall, almost thirty. A long-time, part-time student. The same one you saw in the security report that made you ask about her. Her name's Selena."

  He nodded. “Okay. You don't mind if I verify some of this with Linda?"

  "Oh, hell, Wallace, go right ahead. If we don't play it straight now we'll fight later. You didn't really think we were coming out here to talk, did you?"

  He grinned. “No. I really didn't.” With a glance at my golf shoes, then at my shirt, he said, “And again, you weren't exactly what I expected."

  "Sometimes you have to look inside the box, Cap. Labels and uniforms can lie. I thought you might turn out to be a certifiable brasshole, but here you sit, shooting the shit with me over beer like a real gentleman."

  "An interesting turn of words, there,” he said. “A little slap and a tickle, all in the same sentence. Lots of practice?"

  I nodded. “Yeah. Lots. Learned it working for Linda, mostly. Ask her about John sometime. He was our boss in the first few years. One day he told me that he'd decided to force her up the line to take over his job when he retired. He wanted to see how I'd take it."

  "And...?"

  "I felt relieved. No shit. A lot of the others were smart clerks, but not field people. If it had been anyone but Linda or Samuelson, I'd have quit, and that's what I told him."

  "What kind of field people weren't they?"r />
  "If you don't know that, check with Linda. Suffice it to say that I'd have quit."

  "I see. You really think a lot of her, don't you?"

  "In all ways, Cap, including all the cautious ones. She's beauty, brains, cunning, competence, and cold ruthlessness on the hoof when she has to be."

  "That would seem to mean that you're the same, except for the beauty part."

  He grinned at me over his beer.

  "Yeah, well, I'm still here,” I said, “In spite of the Cold War and several hot ones."

  "I see,” he said again. “Mind if I look up some of the details?"

  "Don't bullshit at this point, Cap. Just say you will or don't say you will."

  He laughed. “Yeah. You got it. I like to know who's around me."

  That's one way of saying ‘know your enemy', I suppose.

  "Return the favor,” I said. “Who are you in terms of experience?"

  "Conned a ship. Naval Intelligence. Twenty-two years in. You want details? You'll have to see Linda, same as me. She isn't my boss, but she holds the keys."

  "Good enough. Last note, Cap. I work for her. Only for her. Nobody else hands me assignments and nobody else chews my ass."

  He grinned and asked, “Isn't that kind of up to 3rd World?"

  I grinned back and said, “No. It isn't. I can re-retire at any time."

  "You'd lose the big bucks if you did that."

  "It isn't the money, Cap. That's in my files, too."

  Our beers were almost gone when Linda almost brutally shoved the building's door open and stamped outside to stand glaring into the flitter at us.

  "Want a beer?” I asked. “We're about ready for another."

  Linda ignored me and looked at Wallace. He gave her a generally innocent look in return. She then focused on me for a moment, spun on her heel, and marched back into the building.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  "We may both be fired,” said Wallace.

  I shook my head. “Nope. You don't know her well enough yet. She talks when she fires people. I know that for a fact. She's fired me several times."

  He chuckled and said, “Several times, huh?” He chuckled again, then said, “You do know I'm serious about her, right? I've asked her to marry me. If you try to get between us in any way, it won't matter who you are or how long you've known her."