Book 4: 3rd World Products, Inc.

by Ed Howdershelt

  Karen's hands shook so that she managed to spill a bit of the tea, but it never reached her skirt. Mills looked startled when the tea vanished in mid-plummet and looked at me. I shook my head and thumbed at Steph. Mills slowly nodded at Steph and thanked her.

  "Well?” I asked. “Why are we stopped, ma'am? I thought you were kind of getting used to things until you threw up back there."

  Mills glared at me as she sipped her tea, then muttered, “You. Shut up. We're going to do this my way."

  "Woo. Yes'm. You betcha. Okay. Uhm ... What's your way?"

  She ignored me and turned to Steph.

  "Stephanie, how essential is it that I see what's happening during the course?"

  Steph smiled and said, “Not at all essential, really."

  Nodding, Mills sipped her tea again and then had a small coughing fit when it went down the wrong way. When she recovered, she nodded again.

  "That's what I thought. Okay. Let's put up that opaque canopy Ed mentioned and run the course at full speed, but record it for playback and stop at the halfway point so I can look around."

  She gave us a small, wry smile and a shrug as she said, “I know me. If I can't actually see that it happened ... Well, I'll need to be able to convince myself later that it really did happen."

  Steph nodded agreement and the flitter's opaque canopy appeared. Mills reached to touch it and her hand disappeared through the fake metal.

  "Oh, lord,” she muttered, “Oh, hell.” She shook her head again and said, “Okay. I'm as ready as I can be, I think. Let's do it."

  Half a minute later Steph dropped the canopy and we found ourselves looking back up the hillside at our starting point. A vid screen appeared and displayed our progress through the course. We could barely follow the flitter on the screen.

  After a moment, Mills simply nodded to Steph. The next time the canopy opened we were back where we'd started.

  As Karen's gaze left the buildings and found me, I smiled and shrugged and said, “That's all there ever was to this part of your training, Karen. Getting past the obvious. Want to do the whole course again, just to lock things in?"

  She nodded. “Yes. Just to lock things in."

  Steph put up the canopy and called the obstacle stations as she conquered them until we'd returned to the staging area. Mills sat slowly shaking her head, then sipped her tea again before speaking.

  "This range wasn't about learning to fly the flitter. It wasn't about controlling anything but my need to control things."

  "You got it,” I said. “And now that you know how to do it, let's head back to base."

  Mills glanced up at me. “Already?"

  "Why not? Range nine will be there tomorrow. Right now we're going to check in with Tiger, then make you comfortable in my room and show you some movies."

  With a narrow gaze, she asked, “Uhm ... What kind of movies? And why in your room?"

  "They're field manipulation movies. How to work with fields in the field, and stuff like that. Recordings of past uses. We're doing it in my room to avoid interruptions."

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  As we headed back to the base, Mills asked, “Why are you assuming that we'd be interrupted elsewhere?"

  "Why are you assuming that we wouldn't be? You know a lot of people here, Karen. I do, too, but only about half a dozen of them know I'm here, and only two of them can get through to me at the moment."

  Hangar two went from being a speck on the horizon to a recognizable building, then it seemed to rush toward us until Steph stopped us in front of the big rolling doors.

  "Jesus,” whispered Karen. “I thought we weren't going to stop in time."

  "Steph,” I said, “Tell her how many flitter crashes there have been."

  When Mills looked at her, Steph said, “None. No flitter has ever crashed due to a computer malfunction or a mechanical failure."

  "Never?” asked Karen, “Not even one?"

  "Not even one."

  After a moment, Mills looked at me and asked, “You aren't going to try anything with me, are you?"

  "Such as?” I asked.

  I looked for Tiger and Elkor, but didn't see them.

  "Making a pass at me, for instance,” said Mills.

  With a quick shake of my head, I said, “Won't happen. You have great legs, but you aren't my type at all."

  Karen stiffened slightly and her gaze narrowed in response to my words.

  Keying my implant as I continued speaking, I said, “Elkor, I don't see you guys anywhere. Is Tiger ready to take a break yet?"

  Through my implant—and therefore unheard by Karen—Elkor replied, “Tiger says that he'd prefer to continue looking around, Ed."

  "Okay. If he changes his mind, let me know. I'd have time to run him home while Mills watches recordings."

  I nodded to Steph and we moved toward the guest billets. Mills looked at me oddly, her head slightly canted.

  "That must be like having other people in your head all the time."

  "Nope. It isn't like that at all. The contact isn't continuous. We call each other when we have something to say."

  "Still...” said Karen, “With those implants, it seems to me that you've ... Well, that you've distanced yourself from the rest of humanity. Tell me, do you have any close friends who happen to be human? Other than Linda, I mean?"

  I gazed at Mills for a moment, then asked, “Karen, how will knowing how many close friends I may have help your training?"

  Mills met my gaze for another moment, then said, “I suppose it wouldn't. I was just curious, Ed. For all your emphasis on first names and such, you haven't really seemed to be that friendly a person."

  With a small grin, I said, “I stopped calling you ‘doc', didn't I? What do you want now? A hug and a kiss?"

  She rolled her eyes, shook her head slightly, and turned away to look at buildings as we passed them. I finished my Dr Pepper, stood up, and went to place my hands on her shoulders. Mills startled sharply, then sat very still.

  "Dr. Mills,” I said, “My personal life is not a subject for discussion. Neither is yours. In the course of your training you'll probably find out a few things about me, but those things won't be fodder for conversation, either. All you really need to know about me is that I—with Steph's help—can teach you most of what you'll need to know about fields and flitters very, very quickly. Is that all right with you?"

  Her rather cool response was, “Yes. Of course."

  I took my hands from her shoulders as we stopped, then picked up my overnight bag and stepped off the flitter. Karen came over and I handed her down, then I handed Steph down as well and the flitter rose straight up quickly.

  "Where's the flitter going?” asked Karen.

  "It parks upstairs,” I said, leading the way into the billets.

  "Why?"

  "Because that's where I want it to park."

  The clerk nodded a silent greeting as he watched us pass the front desk. His eyes then fell to the floor and he seemed puzzled when he saw no cat.

  "My cat may show up later,” I said. “He knows where to find me and he won't need any help. Just let him go by, okay?"

  "Uh ... Yeah,” said the clerk. “Okay. Let him go by."

  "Thanks. He may have another cat with him. That's okay, too."

  The clerk only nodded and stared as if he wondered about our sanity.

  Room 206 reminded me of every motel room I'd ever seen; a bathroom on the right as we entered, then a bed flanked by night tables on the left, a TV on a stand near a small desk to the right, and curtained sliding glass doors at the end of the room that opened on a small balcony.

  I tossed my bag on the bed and shoved the TV stand over a few feet, then slid the desk in the opposite direction. Unlike things might have been in a motel, the picture on the wall wasn't attached with screws. I stood it behind the desk and then looked at Steph.

  "Will that be enough room for a life-sized image?"

  She nodded. “Shall I start now?" />
  "Hold one, ma'am. Karen, now's the time to hit the bathroom or get a drink. The show's about to start."

  Mills pulled the desk chair over near the bed and sat down.

  "Maybe later,” she said.

  "Good enough. Okay, Steph. Roll ‘em. I'll see everybody later."

  As I headed for the door, Mills asked, “What? Where are you going?"

  "Out. I've seen this movie and Steph can explain fields better than I can."

  A field appeared on the wall and for the next two and a half hours Steph displayed and explained various ways in which flitter fields and factory fields had been used or might be used.

  During this time I went for a walk in the main building and eventually ended up in the dining hall, sipping coffee and reading on my datapad. Steph called a little before five and said that they were finished.

  "Thanks, Steph. Tell her that's all for the day unless she has questions about fields that you can't answer."

  "There are no questions about fields that I can't answer, Ed."

  "Exactly. I can't think of any, either. If she can't, we're through for the day, right?"

  "I see. You were attempting to be facetious."

  "Well, gee, lady, when you say it like that ... Oh, well. Hit some, miss some. Tell Mills we'll get started around nine tomorrow morning."

  After a moment, Steph said, “Dr. Mills would like to speak with you, Ed."

  "Hm. Figures. Okay. Send her to the mess hall. Will you be joining us?"

  "I think not. I'll find something to do elsewhere."

  "Okay. Stay out of trouble, ma'am."

  Steph laughed and said, “Oh, indeed, sir. Yes, of course, sir. Absolutely, sir."

  I laughed. “You're starting to sound like Selena."

  A few pages of my book later I felt someone approaching from behind me and waved at the seat next to me as I said, “Hi, Karen. Grab a chair."

  The sneakered footsteps stopped for a moment, then resumed.

  Karen came into view and stood next to me for a moment, then sat down with a coffee and asked, “Did Stephanie tell you I was behind you?"

  "Nope. Some things I manage on my own. How'd you like the show?"

  Mills chewed her lip as she looked at me for a moment, then she sipped her coffee and set it down.

  "The first hour,” she said, “Took us through basic field capabilities and techniques. Lifting, carrying, self-defense. About half of the rest of the recordings were recaps of your exploits with Stephanie. When I asked her if she had anyone else's field ... uhm, activities ... on file, Stephanie showed me ... uhm ... footage, I guess you'd call it ... of two other peoples’ unusual uses of flitter fields. One had to do with making a temporary water conduit repair at a nuclear power facility and the other showed someone using a field to contain several small chemical fires in a building."

  I nodded. “Yup. I've seen those flicks, too."

  "Compared to enclosing an entire infected building or letting someone shoot at you until his ammunition was gone, those uses weren't very impressive."

  "Maybe not,” I said with a grin, “But they got the job done, didn't they?"

  Mills sighed and said, “I think I may have underestimated you, Ed."

  "Don't sweat it. Happens all the time.” I lifted one golf-shoe clad foot into view and pointed at it. “Maybe it's because of my shoes."

  With a small grin of her own, Karen said, “Or possibly your shirt. Or even your personality, as difficult as that may be for you to believe."

  She sipped her coffee for a moment, then said, “I first thought you were simply Linda Baines’ ... well, I don't know what I thought you were, Ed. That was based on my observations of your interactions with her, but my conclusions didn't seem to hold up well this afternoon."

  Karen obviously expected some kind of response, but I simply gazed at her, waiting for her to continue.

  After a moment she said, “And now I don't really know what to think of you."

  "Think of me as a last-ditch teacher and let it go at that, Mills. It's our only involvement, so don't fret over things that aren't any of your business."

  "Why don't you want me to know anything about you, Ed? Are you afraid of what I might turn up?"

  I sighed and stood up.

  "Mills, you have enough rank to ask for a look at my file through Linda's office. Do it and stop bugging me about stuff you don't have any need—or really any right—to know. I'm going to get some dinner now. If you're here to eat, grab a tray."

  As I arrived at the food line, one of the attendants was swapping out a container of plain baked potatoes for the kind that have that creamy junk in them. The plain baked potatoes were placed on a cart behind the attendant.

  I tendril-grabbed the last two plain potatoes and fielded them over the attendant and the sneeze-partition to my tray while the attendant's back was turned.

  The guy turned back to his cart and moved on to the next item to be swapped, apparently never noticing the missing potatoes.

  "Want one?” I asked Mills.

  She shook her head and reached for one of the cream-filled potatoes.

  "No, I like these."

  I fielded the smaller of the plain potatoes to fill the space where the one she'd taken had rested. The guy with the cart stopped to put out a clean cutting board and some new roast beef and stropped his carving knife on a sharpening steel, then he quickly began slicing the meat.

  He served us a few slices each, then finished slicing the roast and set his knife and steel on his cart. From shelves below the cart's tool rack he removed food containers and put them on top of the cart one at a time.

  One of the jello cubes fell to the floor. The guy saw it and continued his motion to put the container on display, then bent to pick up the jello cube. When his butt bumped his cart, the knife fell off the cutting board.

  The guy pulled his hand out from under the knife before it hit the floor, but then the knife bounced and the blade slapped across the inside of his elbow before the knife clattered to a stop under the cart.

  Blood instantly spurted from his arm in a long arc and his eyes got big as he realized that he'd been cut, after all. I'd seen him draw the blade through the roast beef; it was so sharp he'd probably barely felt its touch.

  Mills was already racing to the end of the serving line to go around it and get to the man. The guy grabbed his arm and stood up, which only served to make the blood spurt farther and faster as his heartbeat quickened.

  Stepping to the next modular serving booth, I shoved it back far enough to squeeze past it and grabbed the guy to pull him to the floor as I used a field to pressure-seal the opening in his arm until only a rivulet of blood seeped out.

  Mills arrived and helped me hold him down as she applied pressure to slow the bleeding. The guy started thrashing and yelling as I keyed my implant.

  "Steph,” I said, “We need medics to the dining hall."

  Appearing beside me, she said, “I've already called them. I'll use theta waves to calm him."

  The injured man abruptly went quiet and still, then seemed to fall asleep.

  A startled Mills stared at the open wound and asked, “What the hell..? Why isn't it bleeding? I can see the wound! I saw it spurting!"

  "Just call it a field dressing,” I said with a grin, “Steph, how about taking over for me? I can't seem to get a good enough seal over the wound."

  "Yes, Ed. You may retract your field now. Dr. Mills, you may release his arm. I can handle matters until the medical team arrives."

  Mills seemed doubtful, but relaxed her grip, then removed her hands from the man's arm. Steph's field completely and transparently contained all leakage. Mills examined the wound through Steph's field for several moments, then sat back on her heels and shook her head.

  In a tone of exasperation, she asked, “Why the hell aren't we using fields like these in emergency medicine? For that matter, why aren't they being used in OR's?"

  I sat back as well as Steph said, “They
aren't authorized for medical uses."

  "Why not?” asked Mills.

  Steph explained that using fields in emergency rooms and operating rooms would mean employing computers like herself and Elkor or at least their lesser cousins such as are found in flitters, and that when such field uses had been suggested, they'd been summarily refused and barred.

  Political lobbyists had managed to push into being the year before a draft of a bill that included a ban on AI-controlled equipment and procedures. Linda had said that recordings of her own spinal operation had been shown to try to counteract the pending legislation, but that the bill's sponsors had been unmoved.

  A couple of security people arrived just ahead of two medics, who marveled briefly at Steph's expertise with fields, then placed a conventional dressing on the man's arm. Another medic showed up with a flitter gurney and a few minutes later they took the injured man out of the dining hall.

  Mills watched the flitter gurney for a moment, then asked, “Isn't a gurney considered a medical device?"

  I said, “It isn't controlled by an AI, but even if it were, that ban doesn't necessarily apply on this particular base."

  The security people took notes about the incident and left, then Steph disappeared and Mills and I went to clean up while kitchen personnel went to work cleaning and straightening the serving line.

  Near the restrooms I said, “Maybe we'll go for a ride this evening, Mills."

  Her tone held more than a hint of suspicion as she asked, “A ride to where?"

  "Taking Tiger home ought to give us time to talk."

  She stopped by the ladies room door. “Time to talk about what?"

  "Well, damn, lady. If you come along, you might find out."

  I shoved the men's room door open and went in, leaving her in the hallway.

  After washing up a bit, I returned to the dining hall, loaded another tray, and took a seat at a table that had a few empty tables around it. Mills came in and spotted me, then filled a tray of her own and joined me, taking the seat across from mine.