3rd World Products, Inc., Book 4

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3rd World Products, Inc., Book 4 Page 10

by Ed Howdershelt


  "You've got yellow feathers stuck in your teeth, Miss Kitty."

  She adjusted her demeanor to reflect blasand#233; disinterest and asked, "How's this?"

  "Way too much and too late, but in an expensive evening gown, you'd look like a very bored socialite."

  Steph 'sighed' and said, "I'll work on my expressions some more. Engles bought a used hang glider yesterday, Ed. I was unable to find any record of his owning or using one before then. He joined the contracting company last week."

  As I assembled a mug of coffee, I said with a grin, "Again, no surprise. They've been monitoring my net usage and my messages to learn my interests. My want ad was a perfect opportunity to make contact."

  "You're so logical," said Steph, returning my grin. "For a human, that is."

  I studied her outfit again as I said, "It comes from hanging around with computers all the time. You still want to look as if you're going to hit the greens, huh?"

  "You think my choice of clothing is inappropriate?"

  "No, no. Never. I wouldn't dare. But you look so sharp in your business suits. They lend something to your presence that this outfit doesn't. A kind of salutability, y'know. Hey, let's swing by and pick up Sel and Toni. They can watch and panic if I flight-test the glider."

  In her best Barbara Eden/Jeannie imitation, Steph said, "Oh, my master is so thoughtful of his friends!" then she said, "This is a game weekend, Ed. They'll be at practice this afternoon."

  As I picked up the phone, I said, "That's why we should call them right now, Steph. Since they actually have a schedule, let them figure out how soon we can go to Merritt Island."

  Steph popped a flat-field into being that contained iconized pictures of women in various clothing and said, "This is my current wardrobe. You may add to it if you wish."

  I shook my head and put my finger on each of six casual outfits after dialing the phone.

  "Try these, Steph. For a casual average, match them up to what women -- who aren't playing golf or tennis -- are wearing in places like country clubs."

  Selena said they'd be finished with volleyball practice around four-thirty and that she'd leave our names with the stadium guard so he'd let us in.

  I called Bill Jamison and asked if he could take delivery of his new website on a weekend. He told me to bring it over, so I put the whole site on a CD in zip format to avoid having to un-'read-only' any files needing adjustments, told Tiger to hold the fort, then we headed across town to Bill's home office.

  Steph opted to make contact with her other self on the asteroid manufacturing station and swap news with her, so she dropped me off in Bill's front yard and the flitter lifted skyward as I rang the doorbell.

  When he answered the door, Bill looked in the empty driveway and asked, "How'd you get here?"

  "A friend dropped me off. She'll be back for me later. Here's the CD."

  After unzipping everything from the CD to his hard drive and tweaking some of the links and images, we both declared the job finished and he wrote me a check while I set up an FTP upload of the files to his website.

  A final function check of the actual website returned no errors and Bill seemed happy enough as he moused through the pages.

  Excusing myself to visit the bathroom, I keyed my implant and asked Steph to drop down to the converted bedroom's rear balcony and pick me up.

  As I emerged from the bathroom, Bill looked away from his screen to ask, "Huh? Were you talking to me?"

  "No, I just called my ride," I said, "I'm gonna hit the road, Bill. Let me know if you find anything that needs fixing. I can find my own way out."

  "Okay. Later. Thanks, Ed."

  Instead of going down the stairs, I headed toward the balcony and opened the sliding glass doors. I saw Bill looking at me oddly as I closed the doors and grasped the rail. He stopped mousing and got to his feet to approach the balcony.

  Bill was somewhat unprepared to see me apparently standing on thin air just beyond the railing. Then he saw Stephanie, who smiled at him. We waved goodbye as Steph headed us toward Gainesville.

  A few minutes later Steph set us down outside the university stadium and we went inside. The guard passed us through and we found seats in the second row near center-court just as a new match was being announced.

  Sel and Toni waved to us, then had to pay attention to their game as the opposing team served the ball in a shallow arc across the net.

  Sand flew as Toni stretched to get under it and Sel set up Toni's slamming return over the net. One of the women on the other team dove under the ball and kept it in the air, but the angle was wrong for her teammate, who struggled to save the play but put the ball into the sand beyond the boundary line.

  The teams seemed about evenly matched and equally determined, but toward the end Sel was in just the right spot as Toni set her up with a high-flying, put-it-anywhere shot. Sel looked as if she'd spike the ball straight down, but then her shot drove it slightly sideways and it smashed into the sand on the other side of the net despite the screaming, diving attempt by an opposing player to save the play. Game over.

  After a quick, grinning ruckus with the other players, Toni waved at us and headed for the building's arched doorway at a trot and disappeared inside.

  Selena grabbed a fresh towel from a bench and approached Steph and me. She was clearly still in game mode, by her commanding stride and expression.

  "Hi, Steph. Hi, Ed. A hang glider, huh?"

  "Yup."

  "You're nuts. Meet us outside the lockerroom in fifteen."

  I grinned and saluted as I said, "Oh, by your command, miLady! Yes, ma'am, team co-captain, ma'am! Air-borne, ma'am!"

  Selena stopped, turned to gaze at me sharply for a moment, then stalked toward me until she was perhaps a foot away. Without a word, she grabbed my face, pulled me forward, and kissed me hard.

  "Just be there," she said firmly, then she marched away toward the lockerrooms.

  I looked at Steph. "Expressive, isn't she?"

  "Oh, very," said Steph. "Yes, indeed."

  Chapter Fifteen

  Selena stood waiting outside the locker room door as we approached. She'd changed into a baggy sweatshirt and jeans and had both of her gym bags slung over her right shoulder.

  I asked, "Where's Toni?"

  "She's talking to some guy. They seemed to know each other well enough to argue, so I'm thinking he's her ex. They went into that hallway over there."

  She pointed at the hallway through which we'd arrived.

  "We didn't see her when we came in," I said.

  Leading us that way, Sel said, "Maybe they found an open office. Let's find them."

  We hadn't gone far before we heard Toni's voice coming from one of the coaches' offices along the hallway. She was yelling.

  "...Let go and just leave me the hell alone, dammit!"

  A man's voice said, "I came all the way up here and you're going to listen to me!"

  "I've heard it all before, Jack! Just get the fuck lost, okay? You tried to sell my car, you son of a bitch! You owe me two thousand bucks and you screwed Darlene in my bed the night they threw your sorry ass off the team! Fuck you, Jack! Get your hands off me, you goddamned steroid freak! Jack! I mean it! Let go of me!"

  Selena lunged for the door, but I got in front of her and managed to open the door and enter the office first. Jack's left hand had a grip on the front of Toni's blouse and his other hand was a fist, cocked to strike.

  I clapped my hands together ringingly, which brought his intentions to a halt as his head snapped around to face us. He was -- or had been -- some kind of jock, from the look of him.

  "And just who the fuck are you?" he asked.

  Selena asked, "Toni, are you all right?" as I moved to stand about ten feet from Jack.

  Jack glanced at Selena, then at Toni, then let go of Toni's shirt to grab her wrist. He yanked her to him, then used his other hand to cup her jaw and turn her head toward Selena.

  "Is that the other queer bitch?" he scre
amed at Toni. "She is, isn't she? I've heard about your thing together. Who's the old guy? Somebody's daddy?"

  Turning to face me, he asked, "Hey, what about it, Daddy? Which one of these dykes is yours?"

  "Why don't we say they're both mine? Let her go."

  "Ooohooohoo! I'm scared, Daddy! Whatcha gonna do? Kick my ass?"

  "It could happen. Let her go, Jack."

  Jack was easily two-fifty or so and probably six-three. He looked as if he'd once played football or lifted weights or both, but what I saw filling his muscle-shirt looked as if it had been allowed to go to seed for some time.

  He shoved Toni away hard enough to lift her off the floor momentarily and propel her hard at the back wall. Stepping clear of a row of chairs, then he stood straight and seemed to puff himself up until veins stood out on his head and neck.

  "You really think you want to mess with me, Daddy? Well, then, come on, Daddy! Let's see what you got!"

  Selena grabbed my left arm and said, "Don't, Ed. Let's just get the hell out of here and..."

  "He isn't going to let us just walk out of here with Toni, Sel. Back off now."

  "But..."

  I shook her hands off my arm and told Steph to put a field on her, if necessary. Steph nodded. Toni had hit the back wall of the room and was holding her left elbow as she shook her head at me, obviously thinking that confronting Jack was a very bad idea.

  Truthfully, I agreed with her, but it didn't seem likely that he'd simply calm down and talk about things. I moved forward until I was perhaps two yards from Jack and stood still, my hands at my sides.

  "Well, Daddy? Is that all you're gonna do? Stand there and stare at me? Come on, Daddy!"

  "No hurry. I'm where I can stop you if you try for her again. Toni, go to Sel, then all of you get out of here. We won't need an audience."

  Selena said, "I'm not leaving you here with that asshole."

  Stephanie said, "I'd also prefer not to leave, Ed. I can't allow this. One of you could get hurt."

  "Steph, I'm ordering you to stay out of this."

  "You know I can't do that, Ed."

  "I know you'd better. Think about it, Steph. You aren't my nanny and you'd better not start acting like one."

  Jack laughed, promised Steph that I'd be the only one hurt, and asked me if I was afraid to let them see me get the shit beat out of me.

  He then ordered Toni to stay right where she was. I told her again to join the others. After a moment, she began edging her way around the room toward them.

  Jack seemed to want to go stop her, but he very obviously didn't want to turn his back on me, so he settled instead for pointing directly at her and again ordering her to stay put.

  Toni paused, then kept moving. Jack lost the remnants of his cool and screamed the order at her. That's when I moved. I simply made a fist of my left hand and raised it.

  Jack's reaction was to whip back around to face me and lunge to punch at me. Sel screamed and I glimpsed her starting toward us, but Steph got an arm around her.

  He reached way too far in his effort to hit me. All I had to do was duck a little and put some weight behind my foot as it landed on the front of his slightly-bent knee.

  The knee straightened fast and hard and popped, but it wasn't the sickening 'crack' that accompanies real damage. As I straightened up, Jack bellowed in pain and almost went down, but he caught himself on a nearby chair and managed to realize that his knee hadn't quite been broken, after all.

  The ladies were still by the door, actively resisting Steph's efforts to take them out of the room. When Sel again tried to head my direction, Steph's hand locked around Sel's wrist and pulled her back into their group. Sel swore and yanked, but couldn't break Steph's hold.

  I said, "Get 'em out of here, Steph."

  "I'm trying," she said.

  "Try harder, please. Stun 'em if you have to."

  That comment made Toni gasp and stare at me with hurt incredulity. Sel just glared at Jack, then at me, then things got busy again and I ignored them.

  Jack hobbled away from the chair, swore loudly, and came at me more carefully, apparently both to avoid causing himself further knee pain and because it now seemed that I might actually be dangerous.

  I asked, "You want to call it off, Jack? You might get really hurt, you know."

  With a livid glare at me, he said, "Fuck you! Now you're gonna hurt, Daddy!"

  When he punched at me again, I ducked again, but I also managed to slam my left palm into his extended elbow while pulling his forearm downward with my right hand.

  His elbow straightened with a loud 'pop' just as his knee had, but again, there was no real damage. He rewarded me with more bellowed swearing as I stepped back.

  I said, "Back off while you can, Jack."

  Jack wasn't a quitter, I'll give him that. Or maybe he was one of those people who go a little nuts at such times. He nursed his aching elbow for a few moments, flexed it to make sure it still worked, and then tried to surprise me by lunging to grab at me.

  I gripped his shirt tightly as he gripped mine, then I dropped and rolled on my back with my feet under his belt buckle. When I straightened my legs, Jack was suddenly completely upside down, his feet nearly hitting a ceiling fan as he flew over me.

  There was not one damned thing he could do to prevent himself from landing flat on his back with all the energy of his lunge and the speed of our roll combined.

  His head and shoulders were near enough to the floor to have been jarred a bit, but that's about all. On the other hand, his sneakered heels slammed against the wooden floor hard enough that a deep, thundering 'boom' echoed in the room and nearby windows rattled.

  One of the ladies whispered, "Oh, Jesus...!"

  Agony from his heels seemed to take a moment to register, but when it did, Jack groaned and grit his teeth against it.

  I rolled to my feet and stood next to him, rubbing the spot where the floor had jammed my belt against my back.

  Like I said, Jack wasn't a quitter. His right hand lashed out and locked around my left ankle, as expected. I quickly stomped on the inside of his elbow with my right foot. He almost screamed when his elbow crunched against the floor, but he didn't let go.

  I stomped again, standing on his elbow and grinding it against the floor with all my weight, and this time he released me to yank his right arm up close to his belly and hug it to himself as the tears leaked from his closed eyes.

  "That elbow hurts like hell, doesn't it, Jack? Tell you what, though... I'll bet nothing's broken yet, even if it feels that way. Are you through playing bad-ass?"

  His eyes opened and he glared at me wordlessly for some moments, then he curled himself up facing away from me and slowly rolled onto his hand and knees. He gingerly got to his feet and straightened until he was facing me, still glaring.

  Jack massaged his right elbow and carefully pronounced the words, "Fuck...you."

  "That wasn't even close to being an apology, Jack."

  He growled, "I'm gonna find out where you live, motherfucker! I'm gonna come after you and your dyke buddies! All of you!"

  I gave him my best disgusted look and said, "Well, shit, Jack. That was probably the worst thing you could have said. You finally managed to scare me."

  Speaking very softly, I used my implant to tell Stephanie, "Steph, take the ladies outside. Stun 'em and drag 'em out if you have to. Do it now."

  "What are you going to do, Ed?"

  "Things that I don't want anybody to see."

  Jack's gaze narrowed as he tried to figure out why I was talking to myself.

  Aloud, Steph said, "Selena. Toni. Ed would prefer that we wait outside. He insists."

  "No..!" Selena argued.

  "Now," said Steph, in a voice of iron.

  She solidly gripped both womens' arms and forcibly turned them toward the door. When the door had closed behind them, I let my gaze meet Jack's glare.

  "Now it's just you and me, Jack, and now you have to make me believe that
you aren't really going to be a future problem. Not for any of us, ever. If I don't believe you, I won't take the chance that you were just making noise."

  He summoned up a short laugh. "Yeah? What the fuck are you gonna do, Daddy? Sit up every night with a shotgun?"

  I shook my head. "Bad answer, Jack. You won't be causing trouble unless you can manage it from a wheelchair. There's a ten foot drop outside the windows. You'll be broken before you fall, though. I don't like to leave things to chance."

  Jack glanced at the windows to his right. When his eyes returned to me, his glare was laced with disbelief even as he began backing away from me.

  His change of attitude seemed a little too sudden, given his prior display of obnoxious determination. I moved to keep him within kicking range and he backed a bit farther away.

  As he retreated he shoved one of the wood-and-metal chairs between us and reached for another one as if to put that one between us, too, but I saw his leg move as he hooked his foot under the seat of the chair and ducked to one side as he sent it flying at me.

  The chair breezed past me and landed crashingly among other chairs behind me. Jack already had another chair off the floor in both hands and he put all he had into slinging it at me.

  I had to get flat fast and to one side to avoid the second chair, and Jack was already coming at me with yet another of the damned chairs, raising it to use as a club as he rushed forward. A chair was near my right hand, so I swept it around in an arc and sent it skidding across the floor at his legs.

  When the chair hit his shins the pain froze him briefly and made him hiss through clenched teeth, but it barely delayed his approach. I got to my feet while he dealt with it and slung another chair at his legs, following it closely.

  Jack braced himself and let the chair hit him rather than lose the chance of swinging at me with the chair he held at shoulder-height.

  I dropped flat again to avoid his swing and Jack's momentum doubled him over the back of the chair that hit his legs. He tumbled forward, banging his chin on the corner of the seat, then he tried to shove the chair away with one hand as his other hand kept a grip on his weapon-chair.

 

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