3rd World Products, Inc., Book 1

by Ed Howdershelt

  "No. Telling a computer just how hot or cold or fast to make water run was too much trouble. Some things need no improvement."

  The commode was just a commode. It was made of metal and had a flap inside the bottom of the bowl like an airline commode to keep sloshing to a minimum. A touch-panel on top activated the flushing mechanism.

  Gary said, "Like I said, some things need no improvement."

  There were soaps for the sink and shower and towels on a rack and a mirror over the sink. A grab-bar in the shower was the only feature I couldn't have found in my own bathroom. Well, what else had I expected? They were human, too.

  I let Bear out of his carrier and set up his food and water in the bathroom. He began exploring, wandering in and out of the bathroom and over and under the bed and the table. When he discovered the easy chair beside the bed, he sprawled himself out, then wadded himself up, then sprawled again.

  "What's he doing?" asked Gary.

  "Checking the fit and feel of it, I'd say. He has a favorite chair at home, so he likely figures he needs one here, too."

  Bear shuffled himself a bit and moved no more. The chair would do.

  "I have something else to show you before I go, Ed."

  He opened a drawer of the nightstand by the bed.

  "Have the Gideons been here already?" I asked.

  "The who?"

  "Never mind. The Gideons are a religious group which puts their bibles in hotel rooms. Dumb joke."

  "No, I just didn't understand the reference. I do now. Look at this."

  He took what looked like a fat clipboard without a clip from the drawer. It came glowingly alive at his touch of a panel on its corner. A menu composed of icons appeared instantly, and each icon was further identified by a bit of text.

  "News, most movies and TV shows ever made, and the Internet. This links to the ship's computer, which links to our Earthside comm center. I think you'll find it to be a considerably faster connection than you're used to, even with the relays. Just touch the icon for your interest and follow the instructions on screen."

  I looked at the pad with fascination, but the viewing area was only about as big as a standard sheet of typing paper.

  "I don't think I'm going to want to watch many movies or much TV on this, but the Internet should be fun."

  Gary grinned and said, "No, no. You choose the movie or TV show with this pad, but you watch the show over there." He pointed to the far wall. "Try it."

  I almost chose 'Independence Day' from the list, but decided not to push Gary's sense of humor. Instead I chose 'My Step-Mother is an Alien'.

  It was neat. There was no projector that I could see, and everything was life-sized or larger, depending on the camera position. When Kim Basinger appeared, Gary's jaw dropped and he reached for the pad.

  He backed up the movie a few frames, froze the image, then went to a side menu and chose a sub-menu. A moment later Ellen's face was onscreen in a framed box. He used the pad to move Ellen's face near Kim's and expanded Ellen's picture so it matched the size of Kim's on the wall.

  In a low, astonished tone Gary said, "She looks almost exactly like Ellen!"

  I said, "Or vice-versa. That's a fairly wonderful thing, as far as I'm concerned."

  He was like an enthusiastic kid for a few moments as he called Ellen on his watch. Ellen said she'd be finished in a moment.

  Gary said, "Hurry! You have to see this!"

  Ellen said she'd be right there.

  I said, "Gary, you can call this up on any pad any time, right?"

  He answered distractedly as he stared at the pictures. "Yeah, but..."

  I nodded. Yeah. I knew the 'you-gotta-see-this!' feeling.

  The door chime sounded a few moments later. I told Ellen to come in, but she didn't get far into the room before she saw the pictures on the wall and froze. Whatever she said was in their language, but it expressed her startlement.

  "Who is that?" she asked. Her voice was up an octave or two from normal.

  I said, "Kim Basinger. Good likeness, isn't she? Or aren't you? Whichever."

  Gary said, "A very good likeness. Very similar features."

  Ellen walked up to the wall and tentatively reached to touch the image of Kim, but stopped her reach and instead touched her own face.

  "This is the woman you compared me to when you spoke to Clark."

  "Yup. He was most impressed, even if he didn't quite believe me."

  Gary said, "He'll believe you if he ever meets Ellen, won't he?"

  "Not a doubt in my little mind. I'd be the envy of the Spook Club with the Lady Ellen on my arm. I'd probably have to fight a duel or two for her."

  After some moments of staring at the pictures on the wall, Ellen turned to face us. She seemed to want to say something, but she couldn't seem to find the words. She gave us both an anguished, questioning look and said nothing as she marched to the door, where she turned to face us once more for a moment before leaving my room. Gary and I were mystified by her reaction.

  I said, "I didn't think it would be that big a deal for her."

  "Neither did I."

  "I thought she'd be rather flattered, really."

  "So did I."

  "She didn't look particularly flattered, did she?"

  Gary looked thoughtfully at the pictures on the wall again.

  "No," he said. "She didn't. Not at all."

  "Huh. She should be. Kim Basinger's no woofer."

  "No what? Oh, you mean she isn't unattractive."

  "Damned right she isn't. Got any idea why Ellen's all fuzzed up?"

  "Fuzzed up? I take it you mean she was upset?"

  "Not quite. She just had her hackles up for some reason. Fuzzed up is a stage before upset and upset is just short of ballistic."

  Gary turned to face me and sighed exasperatedly.

  "Ed, I'm having trouble with that word, too. It means 'of or relating to ballistics or a body in motion according to the laws of ballistics'. Exactly how does that word apply to people?"

  I just looked at him and said, "Well, no shit... You memorized the whole damned book, didn't you? And you still have to ask how some words are commonly used... Look, Gary, when a person is really pissed or crazy enough to scream, fight, or otherwise seriously misbehave, they're said to be 'going ballistic'. Sometimes dictionary definitions aren't altogether relevant to vernacular usage."

  "That's becoming more apparent every time you speak, Ed."

  I could hear the irritation in his words.

  I shrugged and said, "Don't worry about it. You didn't completely waste your time, Gary. Most of us still use maybe a third of the words in the dictionary, even if we tend to use them in odd ways. Could be you're a tad overtrained in some things and undertrained in others. Most people are."

  His eyes narrowed and his tone changed to one of sharpness. "Is that so? And should I suppose that you're capable of telling me how I may be overtrained?"

  "Nope. You'll have to figure that out as you go. Don't worry about it, though. You'll get plenty of opportunities to fuck up outside a classroom. By the way, now you know exactly how being fuzzed up feels. It's an 'on-the-edge' sort of thing."

  I gave him a quick grin and added, "Now how about showing me which wall panel is hiding my coffee pot?"

  Gary's expression morphed from irritated to confused.

  "Um," he said, "I, uh... I don't know if they put one in this room."

  He walked over to a wall panel and seemed almost relieved when it slid back to reveal a coffee pot like Linda's. I joined him there and loaded the percolator.

  "Gary, I'd have been real surprised if Linda had put me in a room without one of these, but even if she had, I've got a stash of instant with me."

  "Should you be drinking that so late? We have a big day tomorrow. You'll need your sleep, Ed."

  I grinned and said, "You get to a point where it doesn't really matter when you drink it if you haven't had more than a gallon that day."

  He looked at me wit
h mild horror. "Are you serious?"

  "Almost. I probably never do more than half a gallon in a day."

  His look of horror didn't go away. Oh, well.

  I moved the pot and stuck my mug under the just-beginning flow of coffee and asked, "What are we gonna do about Ellen?"

  "Huh? What do you mean? What should we do about Ellen?"

  I glanced at him. "She has a bee under her tail about something, man. It may have been the gun that started it, but it was getting worse right up 'till I made her decide whether I stay or not, and then it got worse than worse. And then there was the picture thing. What was that about? I can guarantee that if her skin is really that thin, she's gonna have major problems coping on Earth."

  Gary said, "Thin-skinned. I know that one. It means hypersensitive. Um. But I couldn't say why she's acting this way."

  "You're her brother. Haven't you ever seen her act like this about anything else? A boyfriend, a pet, a possession? All of the above?"

  He didn't answer. I peered at him over my coffee mug.

  "You're both in about your mid-twenties and you've never seen her tense up like that before? Were you raised on separate planets or something? This can't be the first time she's ever been like this."

  "You'll have to talk to her, Ed."

  "I already have, Gary. If I have to wear one of those watches, the 'off' button had better be in good working order. Thanks for the room tour. I'll play with that pad for a while before I crash."

  He nodded and turned to leave, then apparently changed his mind and turned to face me again.

  "Ellen was in the top of her class. She worked hard to be on this mission."

  I let him see that I was paying attention, but I said nothing.

  "She... We are products of our society, Ed. We don't have most of the problems you have on Earth. The probability of someone doing violence to someone else on our world is nearly nonexistent, so we're having a hard time truly understanding the need for people like you and Linda."

  "By 'we', do you mean you and Ellen, or all the Amarans?"

  "Not all Amarans, no. Our leaders specifically asked for this sort of help from your leaders. I meant Ellen and me and most of the others your people will be guarding. We've never encountered what you're intended to prevent."

  "Well, hopefully you won't encounter it. I have, and it isn't pleasant. If it will make you feel any better, I'll tell you something. People in my line of work are 'do or die' types. We don't give up and we don't give in."

  He nodded and started to say something. I held up a hand to stop him.

  I said, "No, Gary, you don't quite understand me yet, but maybe you will. When we're called upon the assignments almost always have the potential to turn very mean. That's why we're the ones called. I'll be expected to fight to the last breath to protect Ellen, and I don't care enough about an Earth/Amaran commercial venture to come out of retirement for the job. Sooner or later the deal would go through, with or without my help. The factories would happen and all the rest of it."

  Gary looked confused again. "Then why...?"

  "Ellen. Just Ellen. Nothing else about any of this matters a damn when weighed against her safety. I like her. I want to see her get through this in one piece."

  "That doesn't make any sense, Ed. You've only known us for a day and our mission is the most important thing to all of us."

  I shrugged. "I'm not 'us', Gary. My chosen mission is Ellen. Nothing else motivated me to sign up for this. Do you really have a problem with that?"

  Gary said, "No, I guess not," but he left shaking his head as if none of it made any sense to him.

  Chapter Nine

  The pad was a pretty neat toy. I was sipping coffee in bed, mucking around on the Internet, when a little block opened itself at the bottom of the screen. The words "Watch this space" appeared, then "Press Enter", so I pressed the enter icon.

  A knight in shining armor on a white steed charged from one side of the screen to the other, his lance aimed at some offscreen enemy. Apparently he dispatched the bad guy because he swung his horse around and returned to center screen, lance raised high, and tipped the lance in a salute to someone offscreen. I heard the words, "I am at your service, miLady!" before the image froze.

  Assuming that the pad was at least as capable as the wristwatches, I said, "Cute, Linda. Real cute. Isn't it past your bedtime?"

  "I'm in charge here," she said. "I decide when it's my bedtime. For that matter, I can decide when it's your bedtime, mister. How did you like the show? I worked my butt off for a whole two minutes to put that together."

  "Just don't try to tell me you created it from scratch. I saw that movie."

  She laughed. "Now Gary thinks you're nuts, you know."

  "Can he get me fired?"

  "No, not without a better reason than your being enamored of Ellen."

  "Then he doesn't count. Do you think I'm nuts?"

  "Oh, definitely. I mean that in a kind way, of course."

  "Oh, of course. Heard from Ellen about things?"

  "She hasn't come out of her room since she left yours."

  "How do you read all this, Linda? A true realization of danger? Fear?"

  "Could be. That plus wondering if she's really ready for field work."

  "They're never ready for field work until they've been in the field a few times."

  "Is that a quote, Ed? That sounds like a quote."

  "It will be if you repeat it. Send me a dime every time you use it."

  "Sure I will. There is firearms-training for all of you on the roster. You can handle that sometime next week at the police range in Hudson, just down the street from you. I'll make the arrangements for you."

  "I know the place. Specify rifles and handguns so she won't think I'm pushing her on that issue, too."

  "Will do. If you think of anything else that should be official, let me know. One question before I sign off, here: Was all that stuff you told Gary true? Ellen's the only reason you signed up? Really?"

  "Yeah. It's true enough, Linda. Well, that and I want a flitter of my own as soon as possible as part of this whole deal. I'm fifty now. I'll be eighty or dead before they'll be common enough here to buy one on a used car lot."

  Linda laughed. "I can issue you the blonde, but I don't know about the flitter."

  "You'll do your best?"

  "Absolutely. Promise. Over and out and all that stuff. Put the pad down, get some sleep, and drop Bear off at my office in the morning."

  "Roger that, Fearless Leader."

  The screen reverted to the Internet. I closed the connection and put the pad in the nightstand's drawer. Bear realized I was getting ready to sleep and moved off my lap to the corner of the bed he'd claimed for himself. He'd learned years ago that people sometimes roll over in their sleep.

  A chime echoing through the room woke me. I peeled an eye open and realized that I was aboard the ship and that Bear was standing on the bed near my face. As soon as we made eye contact he said, "Yahh."

  "Yeah, right, Bear. Gimme a minute."

  I looked for a way to turn off the chime, then decided to try the computer.

  "Elkor, wake-up chime off."

  To my vague surprise it worked. The chime ceased instantly and a few moments later Linda's voice said, "Boots and saddles, Ed. How long before you can be in my office in working order?"

  "If there's no hurry, give me half an hour or so."

  "Good enough. See you then."

  I cleaned up and dressed, then soaked up a cup of coffee with Bear on my lap as I used the pad to check my WiccaWorks email. Six requests for catalogs and a few less meaningful messages later I put the pad away and wandered down to Linda's office. She was at her desk when I arrived.

  "You didn't bring Bear."

  "I thought we might want to go to breakfast first. Better he should do his looking around while you're here, anyway."

  I walked alongside Linda's chair for what must have been a hundred yards of corridor. As we were abo
ut to go into the dining room I heard someone running our direction. It was Ellen, followed by Gary.

  I watched their approach and said, "Damn, you'd think they never got fed."

  Linda laughed. "They're jogging, you idiot."

  That was pretty obvious, really. Both of them were in light blue shorts and t-shirts and had obviously been running for some time. They pulled up beside us and Ellen grinned hard as she asked if I wanted to join them.

  I looked at the hot, sweaty blonde and said, "We'll work out something I can handle conveniently this week. I think I'll need it to keep up with you."

  She'd expected some kind of 'no' and I'd caught her off-guard, but she became serious and said, "Good. We'll be along in a few minutes."

  Off they went, pelting down the hallway. I watched Ellen until Linda tapped my arm and said, "Stare at her later. Let's eat."

  After breakfast I took Bear to Linda and my own training program began with a thorough physical examination. The docs found nothing wrong that a little exercise couldn't cure and suggested that I get away from my computers more often.

  I was issued a watch like Gary's. It wasn't large or ostentatious. It had a brushed-silver finish and was nearly invulnerable, according to the brochure that came with it. Gary proudly said that the watches had been made on a planet that had required less than two decades to become commercially independent.

  I glanced at him when he said that and saw what I'd expected. Gary was one of the true believers, full of faith and loyalty and mission goals. Because this was a commercial venture, even if supposedly a self-help program for less-advanced planets, I figured he was also somewhat full of propaganda.

  I said, "Less than two decades, huh? Impressive. They didn't just make these watches, though, did they?"

  "Very impressive," said Gary. "They did it by taking on several of the smaller, similar products at once. They were very enthusiastic about the program and rather quickly converted over a third of their world's industries to produce for our markets. We virtually ended unemployment and destitution on their world."

  He sounded almost like a father bragging about his kids.

  "Did you have a hand in bringing that world into the fold?"