It only took her two blocks of holding the detector out her car window to get the hang of interpreting the beeps to mean that the tracker was straight ahead. When it turned off this street the confusion began.
First the beeps got weaker. Then they got weaker than that. Her first impulse was to bang the detector against the dashboard to make it work right since that is what she routinely did with flashlights before she tossed them as defective. It was a crime the way the companies got away with selling such flimsy merchandise. At the same time she stepped on the gas so she could fall back on following her quarry by keeping his car in sight. That brought her to the intersection and the signals back to full strength. She wasn’t a pretty face to have that be her major asset but she got the message that when the signal weakened she needed to turn the detector from side to side to find which direction it was strongest – and turn the car that way. At the next intersection of course. She didn’t fully make the mistake of turning too soon, only started to.
As she passed a car rental agency she turned as much as she could in her seat to face it since that was the direction that kept the tracker signal strong. Fortunately she slowed as she did that so there was no crunching of metal, only a shout, blare of a car horn, and a waving of hands as a driver turning from the cross street at the corner protested Reggie’s failure to give him right of way even though he had the green light. She replied to his anger with a gesture that conveyed her feelings about him, then she threw an illegal U-turn and started back the way she had just come so that driver was now ahead of her. Taking no chances, he sped up and had his passenger get on a cell phone to call for the police in case this got nasty.
She ignored him though. She stopped at the curb across from the car rental agency and swept the detector back and forth. Yes, definitely the signal was coming from in there.
She jumped out and ran across the street, defying the one car moving in the area to dare even to get close enough to hit her.
From the sidewalk outside the metal-mesh fence she could see the van that had been parked behind Krinkle’s car in a spot waiting for its next renter. The signal from the tracking device wasn’t coming from the van though. She swept the detector about and followed the strongest signal – to the trash container where the tape-covered whatever-it-was had been tossed by the agency car-cleanup person. She retrieved that since she might have other uses for it - and shoved over the trash can to vent some of her annoyance that somehow Krinkle had tricked her into following a decoy while he got away. She would never concede he was a worthy opponent but this was clever.
That was when she began her as-hurried-as-she-dared-to-go-without-being-almost-certain-to-miss-him patrol of the streets to spot Krinkle and get back on track stalking him. She was unhappy, reckless, but focused. In that state fortunately she refused to consider how unlikely it was that she would stumble across him by just driving around with no idea where he was headed. If she had come to that conclusion it’s likely that there would have been damage inflicted on a variety of inanimate objects and maybe even an unfortunate person or two who dared to get close to her.
* * *
Krinkle and Jones sat in the car parked on a major urban street. They were focused on the handheld portable TV set into which Jones inserted batteries.
“Such a small screen,” Krinkle commented, not intending that to be taken as a compliment.
“I can't carry my nineteen-incher in my pocket so this has to do. It gets all the stations though,” Jones assured him.
“My Fodd may be picking up an alien aura but without a known sample to test it against I can't be certain yet. It pays to stay on top of the news though. I say ‘Don't drink and drive’ as well as ‘Don’t try to pay close attention to the news while driving’. That makes safety sense to me.”
Jones turned on the set and news reporter Beth Regards appeared on the screen, speaking to the studio camera. “As we reported earlier, a local amateur's claim to have seen and photographed an object staying in place beside the moon was laughed at by many people but professional astronomers around the world are now saying he is correct and they have their own photos to prove it. The local man couldn’t be reached for comment but we're sure he is justifiably proud of himself. Coming up next, the latest on the price of lettuce this week.”
“That's me she's talking about. I'm the proud amateur,” Krinkle said, in case his assistant had any doubts about it.
“Why can't they contact you?”
“I don't have a cell phone. That way the government can't track me with its GPS and try to interfere before I'm ready to call them in. They'd love to learn the secrets of my Fodd and my jammer without paying me or giving me proper credit.”
“At least you got credit in that report,” Jones noted.
“Did you hear my name mentioned? They know who I am but some of them were the ones who laughed loudest when I filed my report so they can't follow up that angle.”
“So when you find aliens they'll crap themselves.”
“The invaders and my detractors will all do so. It won't be gold bricks either. Okay, let me check the Fodd to see what direction we should head in.” He turned to look at the carton on the back seat.
At that moment Regimentator drove by, unnoticed by the men.
She was paying attention mostly to the moving traffic and now watching warily for the police since she had attracted the attention of two foot patrol officers at different spots as she passed them at more than the posted or common sense speed and with warning honks of her horn at pedestrians daring to consider exercising their right-of-way to traverse cross-walks in her path which would require her to slow down.
Glancing over she recognized Krinkle and his car. She turned for a better look, this time without taking the precaution of braking. She confirmed her sighting of her quarry – and came within inches of hitting a car legitimately turning off the cross street with the traffic light to proceed down the street ahead of her. Fortunately that lady driver was paying attention and driving defensively. She stopped in time and laid on her horn which got Regimentator’s attention in the nick of time so she could swerve the small amount needed to just barely avoid vehicular contact. The other driver sagged in shock and relief; Reggie drove on as if nothing had almost happened.
At the next cross street she turned the car to loop around and come back to where she could watch Krinkle and follow him when and if he drove on. She was back in the game and as long as she avoided any police who might have been called to investigate an alleged careless driving incident, she was in good shape.
Chapter 06
Matt Taylor, a thirty-one year old geek wearing the latest In style of fancy jeans with an out of style long-sleeved plaid shirt, sat paging through a newspaper on the bench that faced the street by the small park on Oakline Street. Always over-eager for social contact, he immediately noted Nerber as the Ormelexian walked up and stopped a distance away but Taylor restrained himself for a minute.
Nerber whispered, “This one seems alert and attentive so I will make you less worthy of noticing.” He touched a sequence of the spots on the zerpy and its outer appearance changed to that of rough cloth.
Nerber stepped back in surprise and momentary fear when, his self-imposed minute of restraint up, Taylor jumped up and hurried over to greet him and shake his hand. “Hi! How ya doin'? I'm Matt. Short for Matthew but that's formal and I'm a pretty loosey kinda guy.”
Nerber didn’t know what Taylor's out-thrust hand meant so he didn’t reach for it and his wariness of it showed. Taylor then got self-conscious about making the unrequited gesture and put his hand behind his back to get it out of sight. That move in turn made Nerber even more nervous about what it was doing.
“Nice day. Not a cumulus in sight, right?” Taylor said.
Not a clue, cumulus is not in our translated data base.
Nerber sat on the bench and put his “backpack” beside him so it faced Taylor when the young man happily sat back down. Wilburps silently
hovered there an inch above the bench seat but Taylor, always eager for someone to talk to, didn’t notice that.
“New here? I haven't seen you around before. Uh look, if I'm too chatty I'm sorry, I'm only trying to be socio-positive - if that's a word.” Taylor laughed nervously. “I like your hat. And the ornament thing on it. Like you’re right from the Outback. Are you from Down Under with the roos and the kinjajous? No, wait, I don’t think kinjajous are from there. Sorry, I’m running on. My mom says I do that a lot. She thinks if I had some real friends I wouldn’t do that. I don’t know if it would change that but I’m all for having friends that I talk to more than one time.”
I cannot begin to sort that out so fast. Find something else to talk-talk about since this topic does not seem critical.
“What is it that you are having for your usage? A thing we might chin strap about, yes?”
Taylor hesitated as he tried to make sense of that. “Chin strap? Like... No, that doesn't make sense. Huh?”
“Updating. Is that an item we might chit-chat about? That is okay, no?”
Taylor smiled uncertainly but then thought about the item in question. He held up the newspaper with a big grin and offered it to Nerber. “Oh, this! It's today's newspaper. Hot off the press.”
Nerber was reaching for it but quickly pulled back his hand. “It could hurt my hand with hotness?”
“Huh? Oh, no, it's not hot to the touch, that only means... Heck, it's safe and has the very latest news as of when they inked this edition to get it on the street. Did you hear about the space people who have maybe landed?”
“There is disclosure about such a thing in your new paper thing?” Nerber was eager to hear what these beings knew of his current venture but afraid they might know too much and he would be in grave danger without knowing it for certain until now.
Taylor considered explaining that but brushed that idea aside with a gesture. “It's the story of the hour but don't believe it. It's just to sell more newspapers and air time.”
Nerber looked to see what was brushed away even as he said, “Please to tell me how you sell the air to one another for some time. This much interests me.”
Taylor considered what that might mean but opted to go another way. He opened the paper, handed it to Nerber, and pointed to a photo on an inner page. He said proudly, “This is the new rec center. I've been in there. It's nice.”
Nerber has never encountered paper before so he felt it, smelled it, and held it to his ear and rubbed the pages together. He considered tasting it but decided to refrain from that. When he noted ink on his fingers he became alarmed and dropped the paper onto the bench.
Seeing that distress Taylor reached over and, since Nerber was too startled to resist, took the alien’s hand - and rubbed it on his own long shirt sleeve. “The ink comes off like that a lot. Not a problem. There, all gone.”
Taylor reached for Nerber's other hand but Nerber gestured that he could do this - and rubbed it on Taylor's shirt himself.
Taylor pulled out a pack of facial tissues. “You touched some onto your face. I'll get it off. Uh, tongue please.”
We have nothing about such a ritual. It seems non-threatening but I have no recommendation about its safety.
Noting Nerber's clear hesitation about this procedure Taylor sat back, holding up his hands to show he was harmless. “Sorry, my mistake. I forgot myself. We've only just met and all. So, what high school did you go to?”
“An altitude education facility? I am not local so no names would be ringing your belfry I betcha. Is that good? I am picnicking my way through a new way of talk-talk and may speak out of turning but be pleased to know I am with full respecting of everyone.”
Taylor stared at him as he tried to make enough sense of that to decide what response if any was appropriate. He was also confused that the voice seemed to come from the backpack and the stranger’s lip movements didn’t seem like they could be more than a very rough approximation of the words he was hearing from this person.
Opting to start anew Taylor pulled out his device and proudly showed it off. “I’ve got an fancy phone with a bunch of apps. Whatever I want to know I can check right here. It’s the newest model. I stood in line all night to be among the first to buy one.”
Nerber leaned over for a closer look but made no move to touch the device. “I am familiar with small communication devices. I am a...”
Caution, Nerber. He likely does not know what zerpies are and you are not authorized by the governors to tell any inhabitants about those. Especially not details of how they work or what they can do. Remember the cautionary lecture for explorers.
Understood. You did well to stop my mouthing before I made such a bad stumbling blockage. To Taylor he said, “I much admiring your technologies am. You are of interest with this. Please, are apps like your abs?”
Taylor drew back a bit in surprise and concern, then made the connection and relaxed with a giggle. “You meant everybody’s abs. I thought for a moment you were coming on to me saying something about mine.”
Fail to react but look pleasing. He will probably get beyond some confusion and get backwards to your questioning.
Taylor did now remember the question. “No, apps is short for ‘applications’. Programs that let this kind of phone do special stuff. Abs are your belly muscles. Part of your body.” He pointed to his own midsection to clarify that.
“Please to be telling me about your apps that are not abs.”
Taylor hesitated as he analyzed the situation but concluded that the stranger had understood the distinction and was asking about his phone’s add-on capabilities. “There are a whole lot of apps you can get. Some you pay for but some are freebies. I like the ones that let me stay up to the minute.” He touched a key and a panel of icons appeared showing the options he could tap into. He held the phone out for Nerber to see those.
Again Nerber looked with interest but made no move to touch the device. Taylor seemed okay with that and made no special effort to hand the thing over.
“I can find a restaurant and even check the menu. Or I can play a bunch of games. It’s good to have the latest handhelds. It show’s I’m on top of things.”
I am checking through the files as fast as I can but this talk-talk is pushing my limits. Nothing of a problem has been said but there may be things to say to be fitted in that I cannot relay to you yet.
So Nerber nodded in friendly and interested fashion to Taylor but said nothing.
“I have a bunch of pictures of people I know on here.” He held out the phone showing an older woman with a disapproving scowl. “That’s my mom. She doesn’t smile very often. If I ever do see her smile I’ll take her picture right away betcha on that. I can do that with an app. Do you want me to take your picture to show everybody that I met you?”
“No. Thanking you muchly but that would make me nervous.”
You beat me to it. I was about to recommend that answer.
“I understand. My neighbor Trudy’s camera shy too.”
“What other powers are you apps to do, Mister Matt?”
Taylor was too flattered at being called by a title to wonder if he was missing an attempt at a play on words. “Uh, I can check the latest news from all around the world. That could be important in a crisis. If everything else is off the air right nearby because of the damage.”
“I am grappling that to you news means new information, this is yes?”
Taylor was glad to find a topic of obvious interest to the stranger even if there was some stumbling over words. “Sure, the news is the most up-to-the-moment version of what’s happening. It’s usually a repeat of what they said an hour ago but if nothing’s changed they call it an update anyway because they sort of tell you that by not telling you what’s different from the last reports.”
The first part means you can ask what is the latest information. Do not bother about the rest.
Nerber looked at the device in Taylor’s hand as he asked, “You ca
n be told what is the news on special visitors to your world by this...”
I cannot permit you to refer to it as a zerpy.
Taylor touched an icon and a somber-looking male reporter at a news desk appeared on the screen. A crawl at the bottom of the picture was tiny letters but Taylor was able to report, “They’re getting more organized about searching for alien invaders but that’s politics, we all know it’s a fake. If they had any real leads on such critters they’d be reporting nonstop about that.”
“Your device shows nice things. The pictures are clear even when the letters are very teensy wee.”
Taylor touched the screen and magnified the view of the crawl so it filled the space. “You can make whatever part you want to see better bigger. It’s all touch-screen.”
“Ah, so your techs can make that happen too.”
Caution, Nerber. That slipped out before I censored it. Do not compare their technology to ours. This is not-not topic territory.
“Understood. Uh, here is a fun topic, Mr. Matt. Tell me about your planet's defenses. This would mightily interest me.”
“Earth's defenses?”
“So this you do call earth, no?”
“Yeah, of course this is earth. What are you, like the space alien invader in the news?”
React with amusement or he will worry that he has nailed you on the head. A strange saying. They have nails on what they call fingers and toes so why would they hit them with a tool? Anyway, laugh off his statement.
Nerber made a big show of laughing and slapping his knee. He said, “That was a goodly one for likely sure.”
Taylor glanced down the street, then looked distressed. His mother, a stocky sixtyish woman who radiated disapproval from every pore, was stomping this way. “Oh, here comes my mom. She doesn't like me talking to strangers.”
Full stage alarm, Nerber. This is walking trouble that we do not need and might not survive.
Nerber grabbed up the zerpy and headed for the gazebo saying, “I must go now.”
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