Within the other clump, a rocket motor exhaust had been used to collect a large assortment of junk. I formed a ten-foot reflective field, then made it concave. As I tightened the solar focal point, vapors rather explosively escaped some of the assembled items. Something within the clump exploded, causing an outward bulge of junk.
After a time I’d managed to bore a shallow hole into the mass. Melted metal and slag seemed to slide away inside the cluster. I expanded the solar reflector until the melting zone was a yard wide. When I canceled the field a few minutes later, there was a hole the same width reaching deep into the clump.
Hm. This method could take a while. A much larger reflector would speed things up, but there was no point in melting stuff now. It would all have to be melted together later.
Footsteps behind me brought my attention back to the living room just as Marie stopped by the couch. She stood looking down at me for a moment, then parked her butt on the arm of the couch.
With a slight shake of her head, she said, “Ed, I can’t believe how much was in those files. Some of the smallest details, things I wouldn’t have bothered to report. It would take days to read them all.”
“Yeah, they’re fairly thorough.”
“You’ve seen them?”
“No, but I’ve seen mine. Prolly not much different.”
Marie nodded understanding agreement and moved to sit in the sofa chair. A few moments passed as she looked out the porch doors, then she looked at me and spoke very softly.
“Reading that made me feel like I did when I first retired, Ed. Like I didn’t really belong out here among… regular people.”
Sipping my coffee, I said, “You’ve gotten past it before.”
She swirled the stuff in her own cup, then sipped. After a moment of staring into the cup, she sipped again, then said, “I don’t want to get past it again. I was never really happy out here, Ed. Something was always missing, you know? And now Tanya’s grown and I’m not… I’m not old and crippled anymore.”
Did I need to make some kind of comment? No. She had her answer already. She just wanted to talk about it a bit while she locked it in. I put my feet on the coffee table and gave her a grin.
Her gaze narrowed. “What are you grinning about?”
“They’re gonna put you back through the Farm, y’know. Or something much like it. You’ll be running your ass off and learning new tech and tactics for the next year or so, just like a raw recruit.”
“You think that’s funny?”
I laughed, “Oh, hell, yes. I want to be there when they put you up against some huge fucker with a black belt in something. That’s what they always do with the ladies, y’know. I want to watch his face change when he fully realizes just how much trouble he’s in.”
Marie’s expression turned flat.
“At the range,” I continued, “They’ll assume you’re rusty as hell and don’t know the new hardware. Here ya go, little lady. Now you just hold it like this…” I mimed showing her how to hold a pistol and said, “And then you’ll show them how to shoot. Oughta be fun.”
She gave me a little smile, then said, “That’s about how it was in ‘71. Someone told the instructor I’d never had weapons training. The idiot believed I’d been in the field two years without it.”
“Startled him, huh?”
Marie laughed, “Shocked him is more like it.”
“Think you could still tail someone?”
She grinned. “I can probably remember the basics.”
We talked about possibilities for another hour before Marie looked at her watch and said, “I guess I’d better get going.”
“That would sound more convincing if you were standing up.”
She rolled her eyes, stood up, and said it again, then asked, “How convincing was that?”
I stood up, too, and as if disappointed, sighed, “Better, I guess.”
Our goodbyes were quick, as was her hug at the door, and then she lifted away toward Ocala. I watched her go until she vanished in the night sky, then went back to the couch to check email and forum messages. That took the better part of another hour and left me feeling rather drowsy, so I wrapped up the evening and went to bed earlier than usual.
Chapter Fifteen
Sunday began at seven on the dot. A ping woke me and another ping sounded precisely five seconds later. Five seconds after that, another ping. I linked into the signal and found Marie using Tanya’s datapad. As her finger descended on the icon again, I sent a twelve-volt charge through the link that jumped from the pad and stung her finger.
Marie yelped and jerked her hand back, then glared at the screen and asked, “Does that mean you’re finally up?”
“It means I’m considering blocking Tanya’s pad. Unless there’s an emergency, my days start at my convenience. I’ll call you when I’m ready to fly.”
“When’ll that be?”
“Coffee, shave, breakfast, toothbrush. Email. It’ll take as long as it takes. If you’re in a hurry, have Tanya show you some tricks.”
“Skip the email and I’ll buy breakfast. Why can’t I see you? Is there a trick to making this thing work?”
“Yes, there is. You can’t see me because you undoubtedly look perfect and I look like I just woke up. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
I dropped the link and considered whether to try to get back to sleep. Nope. There’d been just enough chat and irritation to wake me fully, damn it. Might as well haul my ass out of bed.
Coffee, shave, toothbrush. Email, but I only checked for ebook orders. Seventeen messages later, I made a fresh coffee, grabbed my backpack, and stepped onto the front porch for a look at the day. Bright, sunny, already sixty, and getting warmer fast.
A neighbor’s rather pudgy semi-Siamese came trotting across the street. Instead of coming right up to me, he stopped near the oak tree and yowled a greeting. It seemed likely he’d developed that trait before I’d told the house field to let him come on the porch.
When I said, “Hi, there,” and patted the table, he trotted forward and hopped up to put himself within reach of attention.
Ruffling his chin, I put up a screen and pinged Marie.
She answered with, “Finally. At last. Where are you?”
“On my front porch. A friend dropped by.”
Turning the screen a bit to let Marie see the cat became unnecessary. The cat quickly sat up and leaned to see who or what was talking, then he moved forward to sniff the screen.
Marie looked back at me and asked rather flatly, “How long do you think that will take?”
“Well, I dunno, really. Sometimes he only stays a few minutes. Sometimes he sticks around for half an hour.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to stick around, does it?”
“He’s a regular visitor, ma’am. It won’t hurt to give him a few minutes, will it?”
Her gaze narrowed. “Is this really about making me come to you?”
“Nope. Breakfast here or there; doesn’t matter to me. If you’ll just stay put for a few, I’ll head up there as soon as ol’ Bugglebeast has had a dose of attention.”
“Bugglebeast? Wasn’t that your cat’s name in Landstuhl?”
“He was the landlady’s cat, but yes. I don’t know this one’s name, so I call him Bugglebeast.”
Eyeing the cat again, Marie remarked, “Well, he does kind of look the same, doesn’t he?”
“Yup. Fat, semi-Siamese, and rings in his tail.”
Bugglebeast lost interest in the screen and moved his head under my hand as a hint. I continued ruffling his chin and cheeks and he purred. Marie seemed unable to help a soft snicker.
“Well, he certainly seems to like you.”
“Most cats do. They can usually spot an easy mark.”
A few doors up the street, a woman stepped out of a house and called, “Ricky Ticky! Riiiickkkyyy!”
Bugglebeast’s ears flicked in her direction and he sat up. The woman called again and Bugglebeast’s ears sho
wed his indecision. I ruffled his back near his tail and he stood up. That seemed to help him decide. He looked at me.
I said, “Yeah, go ahead. Your mama’s calling,” and gave him a last couple of pats as I stood up.
He took the hint and hopped down to hurry to the swale, where he paused to check the street before darting across.
“Huh,” said Marie, “He’s smarter than some people, isn’t he?”
Hefting my pack and calling up my board, I said, “Looks like it. At least I know his name now. Be there shortly.”
“See you then.”
She poked her ‘off’ icon and I launched toward Ocala. As I descended toward Tanya’s place, Marie flew up and angled east. I followed, taking a position on her right. Reaching behind herself, she took a small silver thermos from a net pocket on her pack, took a sip, and slipped it back into place by touch. I couldn’t help noting that her motions hadn’t affected her flight stability in the slightest.
We settled into the parking lot of an IHop restaurant and dismounted our boards between a couple of SUVs. Marie took a moment to check her hair in a side window, then she headed for the restaurant’s front doors at a brisk pace.
I followed at my own more sedate pace. She stopped about halfway to the doors and canted her head slightly with an impatient expression as she looked back at me. I ambled up and moved ahead to get the door for her.
She ordered a standard sort of breakfast. I ordered a chopped steak and greens. The waitress made no comment about my choice, but Marie did.
“Why not a regular breakfast?”
“Would you believe I turned kosher?”
“No. Never mind. What are you going to show me today?”
“Well, ma’am, I thought I might take you flying.”
Rolling her eyes, Marie retorted, “No shit?! Really?! Oh, gee, mister, I’ll try to contain my excitement!”
The waitress returned with a pot of coffee and two cups, said to let her know if we needed anything else, and left again.
Sipping coffee, I asked, “What did you think you’d hear, sweetie? We’re going to work with the boards, right? They fly, right?”
Her gaze narrowed. “Yeah, fine. Don’t call me ‘sweetie’.”
She sipped her own coffee, then reached for her thermos and filled it from the pot. When she’d finished, I topped up my travel mug.
We sat sipping in silence for some moments, then Marie sighed, “I’d forgotten what it was like, damn it. And don’t ask what I’m talking about.”
“Not asking, ma’am. You have my sympathies.”
She growled, “I’d rather have another Midol.”
“We don’t have to do this today.”
“I’d be like this no matter what I was doing.”
Marie seemed to sharpen her focus at something beyond the windows. I looked out and saw nothing unusual. A few squirrels cavorted near a tree across the parking lot.
Marie said softly, “I don’t need anybody’s sympathy, Ed. I couldn’t have seen those squirrels before. Not even before my accident. Well, not without my glasses, but even then I’d barely have been able to see them. My eyes were going bad and…” She sighed again, “And the arthritis made getting out of bed or getting up from a chair an ordeal. And there was… Never mind.”
Looking at me with a small, wry smile, she said, “I guess having to cope with cycles again isn’t such a bad trade.”
Sipping again, she was quiet for a time, then she said, “But I don’t think I’ll be going to work for 3rd World. At least, not right away. I want to see if I can do anything to help Stephanie and her legal group.” Turning to face me, she added, “In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t signed on with them.”
“To do what? Besides, I’m already recruiting for her.”
“Recruiting?”
“Yup. Her legal team. A lady astronomer. You. All of you were damaged in some manner. Now you aren’t, and you’re willing to fight the system that would have prevented your cures. Human suffering is an abstract concept to rich politicians and special interest groups; to them, it’s just something they can milk for money and power.”
Marie eyed me briefly, then said, “That sounds vaguely familiar. Have you become some kind of a revolutionary?”
Sipping my cup dry, I replied as I refilled it, “Depends on the cause, I guess. I kinda like this one.”
Taking the pot to top up her own cup, Marie nodded. “So do I. If they have a use for me.” She looked at me and said, “And for what they’re trying to do, I’d work for free, if necessary.”
The waitress arrived with our meals. I made some room in front of me and said, “I doubt it’ll come to that.”
We dug into our food in silence for a time, glancing at each other now and then. I flashed on a time long ago when we’d sat at another table, eating breakfast over photos and notes with Connie, Will, and Mike before making a run into East Germany. We’d be quizzing each other on details after about half an hour or so.
Marie chuckled, “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Think so, huh? Do tell.”
“The ops room. Everybody had a folder and a plate and about three hours to take a long last look before a mission.”
Nodding, I replied, “You got it.”
“I was thinking the same thing. How come you always sat beside me? You hated me back then.”
With a sidelong glance, I said, “Dislike, yes, but not hate. After our second run together, I knew I could depend on you.”
“Yet you told Linda never to team us up again.”
“After a year I did. By then you were pretty well established and I was ready to get the hell away from you.”
She gave me a ‘well, fuck you‘ look as she said, “Gee, thanks.”
I shrugged. “Hey, you asked. But that was then. Things don’t have to be like that now.”
Marie snapped, “They didn’t have to be that way then, either.”
It was my turn to give her a flat gaze. “Uh, huh. We all thought so, too, but after a few months, your fellow team members wished to hell you’d transfer out.”
“Mike didn’t feel that way.”
Sipping coffee, I said, “Not after you two got together. It was kind of amazing, really. One day he was trying to find a way to sell you to the Gypsies. The next, he was defending you when Connie was ready to go kick your ass. You really turned him around fast, ma’am.”
Her eyes flared with anger and her hand clenched around her fork as she hissed, “You really don’t want to go down this road, Ed.”
“Just correcting your misconception. Mike surprised the hell out of us, all of a sudden being in your corner like that. He rescinded his transfer request that afternoon. Linda called me in…”
Raising a hand to stop me, Marie sharply snapped, “Wait! He put in for a transfer?”
“Yup. Said he’d had enough of your shit. Anyway, Linda asked what the hell was going on. I told her you two had come to an understanding of some sort. When she pushed me, I said I hadn’t been there and wouldn’t guess. A couple of hours later she called Mike in.”
Marie sat very still for a moment, then put her fork down and picked up her coffee for a sip. After putting her cup down, she said, “That explains some things.”
“Thought it might. Linda was pissed at me for holding back info. I was pissed at you for creating a situation. Then I realized that what had finally pulled you and Mike together had to have been there all the time, itching you both like a bad rash. Not really your fault, not his. Just people stuff.”
Sipping my own coffee, I said, “After I talked things over with Will and Connie, I told Linda never to team me with you and Mike again. Her response was that she’d already arranged Mike’s transfer and was working on mine. She couldn’t transfer you, so she split up the team.”
“But you weren’t transferred. You quit and ran off to Israel.”
Forking up some steak, I said, “Don’t play with the details, Marie. They folded up our office j
ust before the investigation started. You knew where I went, so you also knew why. And I wasn’t officially off the payroll until I came back.”
Her gaze narrowed. “You came back? When?”
“In ‘74. I took a short leave before I resigned.”
I continued eating as she studied me. After a moment, she also continued eating. There was silence at the table for the next few minutes. The waitress dropped by and hefted our coffee pot, then asked if we needed another pot. We shook our heads and she moved on. Our silence continued until we’d both finished eating.
Marie sipped coffee, said, “Back in a few,” and then got up and headed for the restrooms. I sat sipping coffee and watching the world go by outside the windows. Some minutes later, Marie returned and stood by the table.
She asked, “Are we finished here?”
Peeling a few bucks out of my money clip, I replied, “I know a hint when I hear one,” and set the bills on the table.
As I turned to head for the cashier, Marie said, “I’ve already paid. I invited you, remember?”
She headed for the doors and I followed. Looking both ways, Marie led the way between a couple of SUVs and called up her board. I called up mine and followed her again as she rose into the sky. When I caught up with her, Marie gave me a long glance, then slowed her board. I did likewise and when she stopped, I stopped beside her.
For a time we just stood there in the sky. Marie started to say something and her right hand rose as if to gesture, then it fell back to her side and she shook her head.
“No,” she said as if to the world in general, “Forget it. Just forget it all. I was wrong all these years and I’m not going to keep being wrong.” Turning to look at me, she pointed down at her board and said, “Let’s get started. What’s on today’s agenda?”
I said, “Just follow me,” and headed for a good-sized lake not far away. After telling her what to expect, I took us to the bottom of the lake. We scooted around underwater for a few minutes, then headed back into the sky. High, low, fast, slow. The edge of space, where we sat sipping coffee as she studied the sky and I studied her.
3rd World Products, Book 17 Page 17