Book 4: 3rd World Products, Inc.

by Ed Howdershelt

  Steph said, “One hundred miles."

  "One hun ... That's ... ! Why?"

  Laughing, Steph said, “Because we can, of course.” With another laugh, she added, “Highest and fastest."

  "Fastest?” asked Myra, “How fast is that?"

  "Well over three thousand miles per hour,” I said. “But it's kind of hard to tell that from up here."

  Myra's knuckles whitened even as she appeared to slump slightly in her seat. Mills glanced at me and her hands knitted together more tightly.

  "You get used to it,” I said. “Sooner or later."

  Steph asked if anyone had any particular preferences about music. She received a preoccupied shrug from Mills and a terse headshake from Myra.

  Turning to me, Steph asked, “Is there anything you'd like to hear, Ed?"

  "Sure. Tom Petty's 'Running Down a Dream'. Lots of bass, please, milady."

  "Coming right up. Anything else? We'll have time for another one."

  Shaking my head, I said, “Your choice. Anything but rap crap."

  Some minutes later Tom Petty gave up the stage to the fast guitar riffs of Billy Idol's 'Shock to the System', which it proved to be for Mills and Myra.

  Myra turned to me and whispered, “She really chose that?"

  "Must have. I didn't."

  "He's singing about 'L.A. burning bright', Ed. Street riots."

  "It may be the first time she's heard the song, Myra. Could be it was just another title to her until she played it. I like the guitars in it well enough. Drums, too. It's fast and it has a beat."

  Steph said, “Two minutes to go, everybody."

  I glanced at her and saw her smile, then I saw why. The ladies clenched up and were on the edge of screaming as we descended quickly toward the lights of DC.

  Myra's eyes were big and bright with terror and Karen had a deathgrip on her seat, but she was doing her best not to let her fear show.

  At 20,000 feet Steph slowed us to subsonic speed, then put up a field screen with Tom Wells’ face on it.

  "Hi, Steph,” he said, “Hi, Ed. I'm on the roof pad. Linda wants me to hitch a ride with you to Carrington after I secure the briefcase. She said you have someone from the NSA aboard; one Myra Berens?"

  "Yup,” I said. “Just one of ‘em. Want to talk to her?"

  "There'll be time enough for that when you land. I've heard she's gorgeous. Is that true?"

  With an exaggeratedly appraising glance at Myra, I said, “Well, yeah, I guess you could say that. She's kinda cute, anyway."

  Mills grinned as Myra rolled her eyes, then leaned to look at Tom's face on the screen and asked, “What do you think?"

  After a grinning pause, Tom said, “Wow. If you're Myra, I think I heard right."

  "Thank you,” said Myra, then she straightened and said something quick and quiet to Karen that I didn't catch.

  Tom grinned and said, “You guys are almost within shouting range now. See you in a few.” He clicked off.

  We shortly settled to the roof of the Forrestal building. When I'd stepped down from the flitter, Tom and I lent the ladies a hand in stepping down, then he presented me a clipboard to sign, gave me a receipt, and took the briefcase.

  "Steph,” I said, as Tom led Myra to the elevator, “Let the flitter stay where it is for now, please. We won't be here long."

  Myra looked kind of shaky as she walked away.

  Mills noticed it, too, and laughed softly as she asked, “Was I like that? Oh, why am I asking? Of course I was."

  "Yup. Yes'm, you definitely wuz. By the way, Tom doesn't know about Steph's gold. Just assume that nobody knows or needs to know about it, okay?"

  She nodded her reply as we followed Tom and Myra to the elevator for a trip to the second floor. Tom pointed at the amenities as we passed them and Myra ducked into the ladies room as Tom said, “Two doors farther on your left for coffee. That's where we'll be."

  Just inside the breakroom Tom turned to us and asked, “Are you clean?"

  Mills was taken slightly aback by his question.

  I chuckled as I said, “Myra's bug is either in my couch or her purse."

  Steph said, “She retrieved her listening device before we left the house."

  I nodded. “Thought she might have had more than one."

  Shaking her head, Steph said, “She had only one device, Ed."

  Tom asked, “You know why you made this trip, right?"

  "I can guess,” I said. “Someone knew that Myra would be at my house this evening and Linda figured to use the occasion to spoonfeed her some flitter info."

  "You got it. Our intel people are as good as theirs."

  Grinning, I asked, “What happened to inter-service cooperation, and all that? If you're all watching each other, who's watching for bad guys?"

  Returning my grin, Tom said, “Yeah, it does seem that way sometimes."

  We all sat down and chatted about the state of the world until Myra walked in and drew herself a cup of coffee. When she joined us she took the chair Tom offered her that was coincidentally right next to his. He looked at her for a moment, then leaned slightly closer to her as he spoke.

  "Yup,” said Tom. “You're gorgeous, all right."

  She looked up from her coffee and gave him a cautious sidelong look as she rather flatly said, “Thanks again."

  There was a prolonged silence at the table as Tom seemed unable to think of anything else to say. I know Tom. He's never at a loss for words, so it seemed to me that he was trying to hand Myra the conversational lead. She didn't take it.

  After some moments, Tom said, “Well, Monday morning comes early enough without losing sleep the night before."

  It seemed as if he'd given up trying to charm Myra as he stood up and said, “My office is across the hall. I need to get this briefcase into the safe, so just toddle on over there when you're ready to go."

  Through my implant, Steph said, “Ed, Tom has placed a listening device in Myra's purse."

  I almost laughed. Almost. Watchers watching each other. Nothing new there. We finished our coffees and crossed the hall. Tom slipped his suit jacket on, grabbed a briefcase that looked very much like the one we'd just delivered, and escorted us back to the roof. Myra was surprised when he stepped aboard the flitter with us.

  "You're coming, too?” she asked.

  He sat down in the second row of seats and nodded. “Yup."

  Myra looked at me, then back at Tom.

  "Have you ever been in a flitter before?"

  Nodding again, Tom said, “Many times, but just around town here."

  "Stephanie,” said Karen, “Please take us to Carrington base.” She grinned slightly and added, “At your choice of altitude and speed, of course."

  Steph returned her grin and lifted us as she had before. The ladies’ reactions weren't quite as severe this time, but they were definitely noticeable. Tom grinned at their tenseness, but I noted that he also seemed a bit tense as the building, then the city, seemed to fall away below us.

  Conversation was slight and trite during our flight to Carrington and I managed to avoid taking part in most of it. A few minutes into the journey I called up a vid screen and excused myself to a back-row seat to continue reading my book in quiet.

  "Tom,” I said, “You have these wonderful ladies all to yourself. I'm going to read a while. Steph, holler if you run into anything you can't handle."

  Steph laughed and asked, “Would you like an estimate of the odds that such a thing might happen, Ed?"

  "No thanks, milady. Numbers that big confuse me, you know."

  Something occurred to me a few minutes later and I asked softly, “Steph, is there any reason that I couldn't use my field implant to create a functioning parachute? I could anchor it around my body easily enough, but would it hold together?"

  "In theory, yes,” she said. “If you could harness the amount of energy required and maintain the form of the parachute."

  "Let's go one step further, then. One of my impl
ants could be programmed to store various field designs and deploy them on command, right? The same way I call up my five suit?"

  She nodded. “There's plenty of memory available in either implant for several such designs. May I ask why you don't use the briefcase field monitor for this? It has much more space available for such uses."

  I shook my head. “No. Twice to date it's been separated from me. I'd want to use my implants to store and deploy things like this. Glider One would be like the one in my garage. Glider Two would be a different design."

  "Would you mind if I refine the design of the delta wing glider a bit?"

  "Nope. Go right ahead. Any modifications you think necessary are fine with me, milady."

  Steph smiled and said, “Done. When you're ready to call it up, just say 'glider on'. I've also installed a parachute program called 'parachute one'. It's the same model you used in the military. I'll also add a parasail like the one you used in Orlando."

  "Steph, have I called you a goddess lately?"

  "Yes. Six hours and eighteen minutes ago."

  "Well, you're still a goddess, ma'am. Thank you. Let's delete the parachute, though. With the parasail I won't need it. When we get to Carrington, stop a hundred yards from the front doors and about five hundred feet up, please. Oh, hey, will the glider be visible?"

  "If you want it to be visible, yes."

  "Let's add some color parameters, then. Emerald green because we both like it, as well as gold, silver, and translucent grey for now. Default will be transparent."

  "Done."

  "Kewl, ma'am. Thanks again, Steph. Hey, will you be coming along when I fly it?"

  "I suppose I could do that."

  "I mean without the flitter, you know."

  "Not a problem, Ed."

  "All right! Excellent! You're kinda fun to ‘hang' with, lady."

  Motion in front of me caught my attention. All three of the other human passengers were turned in their seats as they stared at me.

  "You were talking to yourself,” said Mills.

  "You know better than that,” I said, nodding toward Steph. “You only heard my side of it. Hers was much more entertaining."

  "Obviously,” said Mills. “What did she say?"

  "Nothing much, really. Just that I can fly now."

  Three people looked at me as if I'd just become a candidate for a rubber room.

  "Fly now?” asked Myra. “Your file said you've been a pilot since 1971."

  "Never mind,” I said. “I'll show you later."

  "Two minutes,” said Steph.

  We began our descent as before, plummeting toward the Earth and the lights below, then slowing to subsonic at 20,000 feet. Even Tom let forth a high-pitched hissing and gripped his seat as we rushed toward the ground.

  Through my implant, Steph said, “I thought you might like to know that the wind is from the west at an average of five miles per hour, Ed. You'll be able to launch off the left side of the flitter once we've stopped."

  "Thanks, Steph. Wanna bet someone will scream?"

  With a smile, she said, “No."

  "If I crash, you'll burn the pictures, right?"

  Her smile remained as she repeated, “No."

  The flitter halted in the half-light at the extreme edge of the kleig lighting that surrounded Carrington base. I stood up and whispered, “Glider on” and felt the harness instantly surround me as the guide bar filled my hands. The glider weighed nothing at all, being composed of field energies.

  I took three quick steps to the edge of the deck and launched myself into the darkness. Myra screamed. Tom shouted. I heard nothing from Mills.

  The invisible kite bucked upward and I trimmed the nose downward by feel to level my flight, then leaned to the right enough to straighten my path to the front doors.

  Steph appeared beside me, floating along as if she, too, were suspended under a hang glider. I gave her a big grin and she returned it, then I concentrated on remembering how to guide the glider to a safe, comfortable landing. The hundred yards didn't last long enough.

  I nosed up to flare to a stop a few feet from the ground and set down with only a few running steps, then said, “Glider off."

  As the flitter settled near the ground beside me seconds later, Myra screeched, “Goddamn it! We thought you'd jumped off the flitter!"

  "I did jump off the flitter."

  Karen chuckled. Myra glared at her, then at me.

  "You know what I mean, damn it! How the hell did you do that?"

  "What's the problem, Myra? I told you I could fly, didn't I?"

  Getting to his feet with a grin and grabbing his briefcase, Tom said, “That he did."

  He hopped to the ground and handed Myra down as I handed Mills and Steph down, then he shook his head slightly and held the building's door open for us. As we trooped past him, Tom snorted a quiet laugh and shook his head again.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Myra was given a receipt for her gun as we signed in, then we headed for the guest quarters to get Tom and Myra settled. Karen seemed thoughtful about something, but when I asked her what was on her mind, she gave me a terse shake of her head and said, “I'm still thinking about it. Later."

  A different clerk awaited us at the guest billets. I verified that my 'no calls' order was still in effect as Tom and Myra checked in, then told them that Karen or I would show up to take them to breakfast, then to Linda's office in the morning.

  Myra's response was, “But it's only nine or so. Do people really turn in that early around here?"

  Karen said, “You can get 300 channels in your room if you aren't sleepy."

  Shrugging, I said, “I don't have anything against turning in early if I'm tired, and I'm tired tonight. Sorry to be so boring, ma'am."

  "Same here,” said Karen. “At least I'll be in my own bed tonight. Good night, all."

  She headed for the doors and out. Myra turned to Steph. Steph also said, “Good night", then disappeared.

  "Oh, now wait just a damned minute!” said Myra. “She's a computer and computers don't get tired. What's going on here?"

  Tom chuckled and said, “Yeah, Ed. Computers don't get tired. Is this some kind of 'dump Myra' conspiracy?"

  "Cute,” said Myra, “But maybe you haven't realized that if they're dumping me, they're dumping you, too?"

  "Not a problem,” said Tom. “I had a long day. Good night, people."

  With that he headed down the hall to the elevator.

  I laughed, “On that note, I'm outta here. In order to run Karen's ass off tomorrow, I'll have to be at least as well rested as she is. See you in the morning."

  Myra followed me as I joined Tom in the elevator. When the doors opened, Tom strode out and down the hall as Myra and I exited somewhat more casually.

  Ambling down the hall to 206, I turned to enter the room and saw Myra standing in front of 208, looking my direction as Tom opened the door to 210.

  Once inside my room, I stretched out on the bed and called Steph.

  "Steph."

  She answered without appearing. “Yes, Ed."

  "If Myra shows up at my door, would you be so kind as to pop in and stick around a while?"

  "No problem, Ed. Do you think she will?"

  "Odds are fifty-fifty. No, make them sixty-forty or better. She seems the type to play any opportunity, and I'd rather not deal with her bull and her bugs tonight."

  Steph appeared, standing by the bed and smiling as she asked, “You mean you aren't simply keeping yourself chaste for Selena and Toni?"

  With a saccharine smile of my own, I said, “No, ma'am. Toni would drape herself all over Myra in a heartbeat if she could get past Myra's personality. Selena and I would likely go along with that program, too. Beyond that, I told you to record my times with Myra for playback to the ladies."

  "So you did, but you could rescind that order, you know. Temporarily, that is. Just for one night, of course. Or two. You could also order me not to tell anyone."

 
; I gave her a look of surprise as she made her suggestions, then said, “Could. Won't. Myra's attractive, but she's also a devious agency snoop. She's better company at a distance. Are you trying to tempt me, ma'am?"

  With another grin, Steph said, “Oh, no, not at all. I only wanted your reasons for rejecting Myra's company."

  "Uh, huh. Again, why?"

  "It's how I learn about such things, of course. By the way, Myra left her room."

  "And she's heading this way, right?"

  Her grin never faltered as she said, “Actually, she just stopped outside your door."

  Sitting up and swinging my feet to the floor, I said, “Damn. You're enjoying this, aren't you, Steph?"

  Steph's grin widened slightly as she said, “Yes, Ed. I suppose I am."

  "Did she bring her purse?"

  "No. It's still in her room on her bed."

  Myra knocked on my door.

  Steph started toward the door, but I said, “Ah, hell. I'll get it,” and stood up.

  When I opened the door, I found Myra standing in the hallway with a small bottle of gin and two small bottles of bitter lemon. She'd changed into a light green skirt and blouse, possibly in a conscious imitation of Steph's preferred colors.

  "You've done your homework,” I said, nodding at the gin and mixer bottles.

  With a smile she asked, “Then may I come in?"

  "I'm still considering that, Miss Myra of the NSA."

  "We're all off duty now, Ed."

  "Agency types never go off duty, Myra. I know I didn't, way back when."

  She gave me a wry grin and lifted the bottles in her hands.

  "Well, then, may I come in and set these down somewhere while you think about perhaps letting me stay a while?"

  I stood to one side to let her see past me and said, “Steph's here. She's staying, too. Still want in?"

  After meeting my gaze for a moment, Myra nodded and walked past me. I let the door close as I turned to follow her. Steph had taken a seat at the writing desk.

  Myra said, “Hi, Stephanie. Were you two having a conference?"

  "Hello, Myra,” said Steph in her Jessica Rabbit voice, “We were just discussing whether you'd visit this evening."