Book 4: 3rd World Products, Inc.

by Ed Howdershelt

  "Did Stan know why he was told to develop an interest in flitters?"

  Linda sighed. “He's guessing too, or so he said. He also let me know in a roundabout way that his office is monitored."

  "That was just a way to keep you from asking too many questions he didn't want to answer. Linda, it doesn't seem to me as if they can track us in stealth mode. If they could, they'd be pushing for involvement, not info."

  "We can't be sure what they can track, Ed."

  "Yes, we can. Ask Steph or Elkor to send up a probe to take atmospheric samples for the lab. Make it a great big-assed probe in stealth mode and move it around up there. See if anyone gets excited about it."

  Linda's voice dripped saccharine sweetness as she said, “Oh, that sounds wonderful, of course, but why the hell would we send up a probe in full field mode, Ed?"

  "Maybe the lab guys could specify full field mode to avoid affecting samples or something. Or to protect them from changes after gathering them. Maybe they could say that stealth mode takes less energy than maintaining visibility. How much does anyone outside 3rd World really know about fields?"

  "Possibly more than we think they know,” said Linda, “But I'll run this past the lab people and see what they say."

  "What field info is available through the government-issue flits, Linda? Nothing extensive; just how-to guides and help menus, right?"

  "Right. Simple stuff. Nothing beyond the basics. That's actually the government's own fault, too, because they were afraid of the flits and their fields becoming potential weapons. We weren't allowed to install our standard AI cores or even mention them."

  "Their loss. Sure sounds like standard government thinking to me."

  I heard a telephone ring, then Linda said, “My phone's ringing, Ed. Later."

  "Okay. Green off."

  "What?"

  "No more green kite. Just me again."

  "Oh. Right. That still looks weird as hell to me, Ed. Bye."

  "Bye.” As soon as she clicked off, I said, “Steph, care to comment?"

  "The White House order is untraceable,” she said. “There's nothing in writing or in electronic form concerning it."

  "Figures. What about the idea of sending up a probe in stealth mode?"

  "I can think of no reasons that are less feeble than those you offered."

  Laughing, I said, “So we'll let the lab rats have the credit for the idea. They can call it an experiment of some sort. How much time do I have to play up here?"

  "About an hour and a half if Dr. Mills continues progressing as she has."

  "Kewl. Your adjustments worked, ma'am. My knees feel fine this trip. Thanks."

  "You're welcome."

  Another hour passed before I saw a small helicopter heading my direction. As it neared, I saw that it was one of the base's baby Bells and that it appeared to be heading right for me. I said “green on” so they'd notice me and nosed down a bit to slide out of the chopper's path.

  The little Bell bucked slightly as my kite became visible, then it moved to maintain an intersecting course. I sideslipped some distance, but the Bell stayed aimed at me. It was perhaps a mile distant as I banked to circle tightly and lose some altitude.

  Keying my implant, I said, “Steph, I'm about to have company."

  "I'm in contact with base security, Ed. You're a UFO at the moment."

  "What's my altitude?"

  "Four thousand, eight hundred and eighty-three feet."

  The helicopter banked to follow me at a distance of perhaps a hundred yards as I orbited the thermal column.

  "Thanks, Steph. Any luck with the base yet?"

  "Yes. The pilot is receiving your clearance."

  But the Bell didn't veer off to return to base. I tightened my spiral and the Bell turned to keep me in sight. There was a bright flash in the cockpit, then the pilot waved at me. I took a hand off the guide bar to wave back.

  "Green off,” I said, and the big emerald glider vanished.

  After a moment there were three more flashes in quick succession in the Bell's cockpit. I waved again, then banked sharply to lose altitude. The Bell stayed a safe distance from me as it followed me down.

  When I was about five hundred feet from the ground I aimed myself at the flitter and called Steph.

  "I want to land on the flitter,” I said, “Anything special you want me to do?"

  "No, Ed. I'll match our speed and altitude with you."

  The helicopter followed me as I flew toward the flitter and spilled altitude until I was about a hundred feet up. Steph sent the flitter forward at about half my speed and adjusted her speed upward until I was hanging above the center of the deck.

  Myra had stood up and was facing me and Karen had turned in her seat to watch. Both had tense grips on their seats as I settled the last few feet.

  I swung my legs out of their harness and let my feet touch the deck as I said, “Glider off."

  The sudden lack of wind resistance nearly caused me to overbalance, but I caught myself and turned to wave at the helicopter as I said, “Thanks, Steph. We really gave him a show."

  "Apparently so,” she said, and radio chatter suddenly filled the air.

  An excited man's voice yelled, “Base, did you see that?!"

  "Yes, Baker Two, we saw it,” said a droll voice, “Take it easy and stop yelling, Davis. You can return to base now."

  "Yes, sir."

  The calm voice had belonged to Emory Wallace. I grinned as I took a seat and asked Steph for a comm link as the helicopter rose and veered toward the base.

  Aware that Emory Wallace would likely be surrounded by his subordinates, I used his rank and last name when calling him.

  "Hi, there, Captain Wallace. Thanks for not shooting at me."

  "Thank your friend Ms. Baines, Ed. We were all set for some target practice, but she wouldn't approve it. You upset our man Davis a little when your glider disappeared, but that slick landing with no visible means of support sort of made up for it, I think."

  "Oh, good. I had help with that, though. Steph matched up with me. How come your bird didn't come to check me out the last time I was up here?"

  "You don't show up on our screens, Ed. Someone on the ground spotted you and called it in. I'd like a look at your glider later. How about when you get back here?"

  "Sure. It isn't an indoor toy, though. Kinda big. We'd better do it out front."

  "Good enough. Let me know when you get in. See you then."

  As I retrieved a Dr Pepper from the cooler, I said, “Okay. Bye."

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Steph had taken us to range nine's staging area as I'd talked to Wallace.

  "Dr. Mills has completed this range,” said Steph. “In the instance that she didn't suggest the standard method for handling the problem, she offered one that would have worked as well."

  Nodding and toasting Mills with my Dr Pepper, I said, “Great. I guess we can head back to the barn, then."

  When the flitter didn't move, both Myra and Mills looked at Steph.

  She grinned and said to Karen, “You're the pilot out here, not Ed."

  With a wry shake of her head, Karen said, “Okay. Would you please take us back to the main building, Stephanie?"

  "Will do,” said Steph, and the flitter headed that direction.

  "Tomorrow,” I said, waiting for them to look my way before continuing, “Will be a day for stick time, Karen. You'll be dealing with less capable AI's on the other flitters and there may be times when you'll have to really do the flying."

  "Less capable?” asked Myra.

  "Oh, hell, yes,” I said. “Much less capable. They aren't self-aware and they don't interpret as well as Steph. No 'take us to the main building', for instance. To them, you'd have to specify building twenty-eight, west door or main entrance. If you didn't tell them how fast to fly, you'd get the default hundred miles an hour or so."

  "One hundred and sixty kilometers per hour,” said Steph.

  "Right, and t
hat's something else. If you're used to thinking in yards and miles, you have to tell the other flitters to use them."

  With a glance at Steph, Myra asked, “How did Stephanie become self-aware?"

  "That's classified,” I said. “Not by 3rd World. By me. Nobody needs to know that."

  "I'd beg to differ with you,” said Myra. “Especially if there's a chance of it happening with government-issue flitters."

  I shook my head. “Government flits don't have the same cores, Myra. The GSA pogue specifically ordered that their flits not be able to become sentient.” Sipping my drink, I added, “Their loss, too. I've been real happy with my sentient flitter, y'know."

  "Why, thank you, sir,” said Steph, tossing me a small salute. “You haven't been an unbearable owner, either."

  Karen chuckled and Myra laughed out loud.

  As we slowed to approach the building, I said, “Well, that'll look good in my resume. 'He hasn't been unbearable'. Wow."

  Wallace stood waiting out front with a few of his people. I asked Steph to take us up to a hundred feet and give me a head start, then said, “glider on green,” and ran off the deck. When I flared to a stop near the group and dropped the couple of feet to the ground, someone actually applauded.

  Of course the breeze had to interject a bit of humor into the moment, gusting and shoving me three feet sideways as I approached them. Two of them trotted forward to grab the kite's wings and steady me as the flitter halted behind me.

  "Not so graceful on the ground, huh?” asked Wallace.

  "Less graceful than a damned pelican, I think,” I said. “Green off."

  The two holding my wings suddenly found themselves holding wings they couldn't see and a woman near Wallace gasped, then stepped forward to try to touch the kite.

  I let her find it with her fingers, then said, “Red on,” and the kite became the color of a medium-grade ruby.

  "Ohhh, wowww ... ” she breathed.

  "I came up with the idea for a locked-format kite,” I told Wallace, “And Steph made it happen for me. She also came up with a parachute and a parasail. The colors, too. She's something of a programming whiz, y'know."

  Wallace grinned and said, “So I see."

  "Glider off,” I said, and the woman squeaked as her grip on my wing became a grip on nothing.

  The two people holding my wings found themselves holding nothing. Steph, Myra, and Karen stepped off the flitter and joined us.

  Turning to Steph, Wallace extended a hand and said, “Excellent work, ma'am. Simply excellent. You're too damned good for this guy. If you get tired of him, you be sure to come see me about a job."

  "Thank you,” said Steph, shaking his hand. She looked at me and grinningly asked, “Would it be socially proper to inform him that Linda is too good for him, as well?"

  With a grin I said, “Nah. He already knows that as well as we do."

  Karen's head had turned quickly as Wallace complimented Steph and we bantered. Her expression was one of mild surprise, and Wallace saw it.

  "You have a question, Dr. Mills?” he asked.

  She fidgeted for a moment, then leaned to whisper, “Uh, sir, were you aware that Stephanie is ... uh, that she isn't human?"

  He stood straight and looked at Steph as if in shock, then said, “Well, damn. I guess that means you'll be wanting more money and a corner office."

  "Oh, of course,” said Steph. “A parking space, too."

  Wallace laughed as he turned back to Karen and said, “Yes, Dr. Mills. I was aware of that. Should it concern me?"

  Karen stiffened slightly and said, “No, apparently not."

  Wallace nodded and said to Steph and me, “I have plans this evening, but you two know where to find me when you have some time."

  "Will do,” I said.

  As Wallace and his people went into the building, I said, “Well, Steph, it seems that if you weren't driving Karen's bus, you'd be sitting in the back of it."

  Steph said, “So I noticed."

  Karen's expression became one of tense irritation as she said, “What? That's not what I meant, damn it! I just didn't think he knew..."

  I said, “Yeah. Right. But why the hell should it matter what he knew, Mills?” Holding the door open for them, I added, “Gee, I can remember when only women and non-whites were considered second class citizens. You've added a whole new category."

  Mills stopped and glared at me for a moment, then made an exasperated noise and moved through the doorway. She turned to say something else, but as Steph passed me, I stopped her to kiss her cheek as Karen watched. Karen's mouth fell open slightly, then her gaze narrowed sharply at us before she turned and walked away.

  Myra snickered and said, “I think she's jealous."

  "I think she's discovering that she's capable of bigotry,” I said. “See what you can pry out of her about that, will you?"

  With a big grin Myra asked, “What? Now you want me to try to spy for you?"

  "It's for a good cause and you already know how, don't you? Grit your teeth and give it a shot, ma'am."

  "How do you know I don't feel the same way?"

  I shrugged. “If you did, you wouldn't be grinning about it, would you?"

  Chuckling, Myra said, “No, probably not."

  Steph said, “This isn't necessary, Ed."

  Myra said, “Oh, but it is, Stephanie,” and then she, too, walked away.

  We watched her go for a moment, then Steph asked, “Why would Myra feel that way, Ed?"

  "Good question, but figure that if she didn't think she could somehow use the info, she probably wouldn't feel that way."

  We followed Myra into the dining hall. Mills was already at the far end of the serving line with her tray as Myra began her selections. Scanning the tables, I saw Angela Horn. She was in a short-sleeved work uniform and had just begun her meal.

  I took my time about loading a tray, spending a few moments watching a woman slice meat and noting a change on the pushcart behind her. A large bar magnet held several types of knives and a couple of tools on top the cart. No more falling knives.

  Something about that magnetic adaptation to the cart triggered another line of thought for me. Steph glanced at me when my readings spiked.

  "Just had an idea,” I said. “Maybe a good one. Lemme work on it."

  Mills chose a table and Myra joined her. When I'd finished selecting foods I headed in Angela's direction. Angela looked up as Steph and I approached.

  "Hi, Angela,” I said, “Want some company?"

  "Hi, Ed. Hello, Stephanie. Sure. Sit down."

  As we did so, Angela said, “I saw your glider today. Nice."

  "Thanks. Steph made it."

  Angela looked at Steph and nodded as she said, “Well done."

  She turned back to me and said, “It was fun watching you today, even when I couldn't see the kite. It almost made me wish I had an implant like yours. But only almost."

  Between bites of steak I said, “Angela, I've been thinking about suggesting something and I've kind of been wondering why nobody's thought of it before. If they actually haven't, that is."

  "Maybe they have. What is it?"

  "Preprogrammed PFM units, keyed to individuals and field-bonded to them like the flitter control eggs bond to your hand. They wouldn't have to be implants. You could stick them to your arm or leg and call up protective fields, gliders or parachutes, and stun fields, for starters. Maybe other things, too, like comm channels."

  Angela sat very still for a moment, staring first at me, then at Steph, who asked, “What's the matter, Angela?"

  "Would that mean I'd be able to fly like he did today?"

  Steph nodded. “Yes."

  "They'd be completely safe?"

  "I wouldn't let Ed use one if they weren't."

  With a grin, Angela stuck her arm out and pointed to her right forearm.

  "Right here,” she said. “Would that be a good spot for one?"

  I said, “Since you seem willing to voluntee
r to try one, we can put the idea to Linda tomorrow. Good enough?"

  Angela withdrew her arm and seemed slightly confused. “Oh. I didn't realize ... If you're talking about making them issue hardware, you'd have to see Captain Wallace, Ed."

  "I work for Linda, so she can put the idea to Wallace. Or you can, now that you know about it. We can spring it on both of them. I still can't believe that nobody's thought of using PFM's this way before."

  Shaking her head, Angela said, “God, it seems so obvious now ... How many times have I picked up a flitter control egg? Hundreds of times. And it never once occurred to me that your gadget wouldn't have to be an implant. Not even once."

  "Same here. I thought of it while I was standing in the food line just now."

  We laughed about how minds work and talked as we finished eating, then Angela said, “Well, back to work. I'm on the evening shift tonight. Should I tell Wallace tonight, or do you want me to wait until you talk to Linda?"

  "Go ahead,” I said. “I'll call Linda in a little while. Maybe we can have this thing in motion by tomorrow."

  After Angela had left the table, I tapped my watch to call Linda.

  "Yes, Ed? Can this be quick? Emory is taking me into Carrington for a fancy dinner and drinks and I'm right in the middle of getting ready."

  "Well, he did say he had plans for the evening. Steph and I just cooked up something, Linda. PFM's with preprogrammed stuff like my kite and protective fields. They'd stick to people like flitter eggs. No implants needed. Half a dozen uses on tap with voice commands. Angela Horn liked the idea and she'll be telling Wallace about it the next time she sees him. Was that quick enough for ya?"

  A moment of silence went by before she quietly said, “Yes, it was. Damn! The idea sounds great, Ed. Emory is waiting in the living room. Would you tell him what you just told me?"

  "Sure. Call him over and play it back for him."

  "No, we're already getting a late start. I'll keep getting ready while you call him on his pad."

  I heard her tell Wallace to expect a padcall as Steph made a datapad screen materialize in front of me. Wallace's face appeared on it.

  "Yeah, Ed. What's the emergency?"

  "No emergency, Cap. Steph and I bounced an idea off Angela Horn over dinner and off Linda just now. It's about PFM's that would be kind of like my implant, but that would stick to people like flitter control eggs and let them call up various field uses with voice commands instead of neural inputs. Keyed to individual DNA and voices and no surgery."