Her face turned somewhat somber as she asked, “You aren't offended, are you?"
I swung my legs off the couch, repositioned Tiger, and took Steph's hand to pull her down to sit beside me.
"Offended? Steph, to me you're a kind of computerized goddess and I was dreading the day you'd leave, so I'm definitely not offended with five percent.” Laughing, I added, “Eighty percent of which I'm not likely to use often anyway."
Kissing the back of her hand, I said, “Thanks for letting me know, Steph. I had this idea that you might disappear not long after you got legal."
The phone rang. I let the machine get it and heard, 'Ed, this is Rich Engles again. I took the liberty of adding your name to a list of attendees, just to make sure there'd be a place in the lineup if you can make it to the Flight Fest this Saturday. I didn't ... ‘
That's when I fielded the portable phone and used a tendril to tap the ‘talk’ button as I brought it to the couch.
"Hi, Rich,” I said, “I just got in a little while ago. What lineup?"
Sounding rather surprised that I'd answered, he said, “Uh, the launch lineup, Ed. They're expecting close to a hundred kites and they only have two launch planes listed so far."
"Launch planes?"
"Yeah. Ultralights that tow the gliders up."
I grinningly glanced at Steph and said, “Kewl! I was wondering how you guys got off the ground here in Florida."
His voice seemed puzzled and concerned as he asked, “Are you sure you've flown a hang glider before, Ed? I'd hate to think I sold that kite to a beginner."
Laughing, I said, “Nah. Just kidding. Do you know anybody who needs a glider? The one you sold me is for sale again."
"What? Why? Are you giving up flying?"
"Nope. I was given another kite, Rich. Brand new. State of the art, you could say."
Steph giggled softly at that.
"Given?” asked Engles, “Really? As in 'free'?"
"Yup. As in no money changed hands."
"Oh,” said Rich. “Well, I'll ask around. Same price?"
"Yeah, I guess so, if I have to, but that's just to leave room for haggling. I'll take it to the meet and put a sale sign on it and take the best offer by the end of the day."
"That ought to work,” said Rich. “Okay, then. See you there."
"Roger that. Thanks for calling, Rich."
He hung up, I tapped the ‘off’ button, then I looked at Steph.
"What was wrong with that conversation, ma'am?"
Her eyebrow went up again. “Wrong? How do you mean?"
Sipping my coffee, I said, “For all his apparent enthusiasm about such things, he didn't ask what kind of new kite I had, what brand, where I got it, or anything else about it. Not even what color it is."
With a wry grin Steph said, “We already knew he wasn't really into the sport."
"Yeah, but he's going to be at the meet, or so he said, and he called me about it."
Steph looked a little puzzled as she asked, “What's your point, Ed?"
"My point is that he's still actively spooking, Steph. The charade is still on. Chances are he already knows about my new glider. Even though Myra went to Carrington with us, Rich is still trying to make a connection with me. Why?"
She shrugged. “Maybe because you visited him aboard a flitter with three women? Possibly because he's received no orders not to continue attempts to connect?"
"Could be. Why wouldn't they have reassigned him after Myra joined us?"
"I don't know. There's nothing on record in his agency's offices to explain that. Do you know?"
It was my turn to shrug and I added a grin.
"No, not really, but I'll assume that his interest in us goes well beyond gliders, just to be on the safe side."
With a wry look, she said, “Indeed. Beyond gliders in what way, Ed?"
"I dunno. Fields, AI's, PFM's, or even your INS application. They're spooks, so maybe they just want to open a connection into 3rd World on general principles. In that business you never know who's going to be useful down the road."
Steph studied me for a moment, then asked, “What do you intend to do about him, then? Sell your glider and avoid him from now on?"
I shook my head. “Nope. After I sell my rag kite we'll stick a fake PFM on my arm and I'll fly the field kite, then I'll let everybody know that they'll be commercially available later in the year. Rich will take that info back to his boss and it will match up with a lot of Myra's report. Could be they'll feel as if their questions have pretty well been answered at that point and drop us as subjects for study."
"And if they don't?"
"Then they don't. No biggie. Sooner or later someone on Capitol Hill will realize that space-based missiles won't get past flitter defenses any better than Earth-based missiles could and they'll give up that project. Sooner or later they'll try to open a flitter engine and find out what happens when you do that. Then there are the PFM's. It would probably be fair to say that only friends of 3rd World will have access to them in the beginning. Everybody will be on their best behavior, I think."
Then it hit me. “Oh, damn,” I said, “Speaking of 'best behavior', consider what it would be like if everybody on Earth had a PFM, Steph. They can't be too cheap too soon. Deaths by violence and diseases would almost stop. You'd have to build in a contraceptive or...” I looked at her and asked, “You've thought of that already, haven't you?"
She nodded. “Yes. Those interested in owning a PFM will be informed that the devices will prevent conception while being worn. I don't expect that revelation to seriously deter PFM use or sales; in fact, I expect just the opposite."
I grinned hugely at her, then laughed hard.
"Oh, God, that's slick, lady! You get five gold stars for this one! No, ten! Oh-fucking-wow, ma'am!"
Returning my grin, Steph said, “I thought you'd like it."
"Like it? Not strong enough. I love it! Which came first, the plan or the PFM's?"
Steph's grin turned wry as she said, “The PFM's, actually, but the plan followed almost immediately. I calculated the necessary resources and time required to make enough of them to meet probable demand. When I factored in population growth I realized that within a very few unculled generations there'd be standing room only and starvation on Earth."
"Wow...” I muttered, “And you were asking me for suggestions earlier? When you already had something like this in your pocket?” I stood up, stood straight, and clutched at my chest theatrically as I said, “You merely toy with me, milady!"
Pretending concern, Steph said, “Oh, I'm so sorry. Do you think you'll recover?"
I pretended to have to think about that, then shrugged and said, “Yeah, sure. Another coffee and I'll be fine."
Steph laughed, “Good. I'll need you for product demonstrations."
Something else occurred to me. I asked, “Um ... Do you think there'll be any problems with 3rd World about the contraceptive feature? For all the Amaran involvement, it's still a company owned and operated by Earthers."
She shook her head. “No. There may be a delay in offering PFM's commercially while 3rd World evaluates matters, but I don't think they'll refuse to sell PFM's. 3rd World exists to pay off Amaran investments in Earth, turn a profit, and buy a starship. I believe they'll see PFM's as a management tool as well as a marketable product."
"The Pope and other religious leaders will be first ones in line to tell people not to buy PFM's, Steph, and a good portion of the world still believes in that 'go forth and multiply' bullshit."
Steph said with a small shrug, “Those religious leaders aren't offering personal safety and disease prevention. I believe that most people will want a PFM and that most religions will eventually modify or discard such tenets due to necessity."
I said, “Uh, huh...” and sipped my coffee, then, “Well, maybe so, eventually, but consider how long it took for the church to pardon Galileo. Do the PFM's you issued to Angela, Myra, Linda, and Wallace prevent concep
tion?"
Nodding slightly, she said, “Yes. I planned to tell them tomorrow, after we've finished with Dr. Mills."
"That should be interesting."
With a small grin, Steph asked, “Do you think they'll want to give back their PFM's?"
Laughing softly, I said, “No. I don't think they will."
Chapter Forty-Three
Up early and back to Carrington. Breakfast with Angela, Steph, and Myra, who showed up with a belly-pack instead of a purse. After a cursory greeting, Karen Mills again joined her friends at the other table, but came to join us for a coffee as we were finishing our breakfast.
"This is your last day, Mills,” I said with a grin. “Shine bright out there, okay?"
"I've been shining well enough, I think,” she said drolly. “If today is no worse than the other days, I shouldn't have any problems."
Angela and Myra had a conversation of their own going, but I hadn't been following it. Mills glanced at them and then rather obviously checked her watch; a sign that she wanted to get started.
We had all finished eating, so I said, “Time to saddle up, ladies,” as I rose to take my tray to the bus bins.
After last words with Myra while they dumped their trays, Angela excused herself and headed for her bunk. I looked at Myra inquiringly as we left the dining hall.
"Angela wanted to fly today,” said Myra, “But she has a briefing at three and wants to get some sleep before then. She asked if we were going to be here tomorrow."
Looking past Myra at Steph, I said, “Someone could suggest to Angela that one of the issue flitters can field-lift her high enough for a good launch if we aren't here."
Steph grinned and said, “Someone is already manifesting a copy of herself beside Angela to pass your suggestion to her."
Grinning back, I said in a confidential tone, “Steph, you're very talented, you know."
As we left the building Steph said, “Oh, thank you, sir. I do try."
Mills rolled her eyes at our exchange and Myra laughed as we boarded the flitter. A couple of minutes later Myra and I launched at four thousand feet and Steph took Mills down to the range to begin the last day of her training.
Myra was nearly a quarter-mile away on the other side of a thermal column when I keyed my implant and signaled Linda.
A couple of seconds passed before she tapped on and asked, “Ed, can I call you back in five?"
"Okay."
We tapped off and I waited, admiring the view, until my watch beeped.
When I keyed in to answer, Linda said, “Sorry. I was just wrapping up another call."
"No sweat. Can you get Wallace and Angela into your office this afternoon? Say after we finish with Mills?"
"Shouldn't be a problem after five. What's up?"
"Steph has something to add concerning PFM features. She wants to be the one to open the discussion."
"Okay, Ed. Got a hint for your old friend and trusted employer?"
"Nope. Sorry, ma'am. This is Steph's show."
After a pause—during which I've no doubt she considered pushing matters—Linda said, “Okay. Just after five, my office. Later, Ed."
"Bye, Fearless Leader."
There was another slight pause before she tapped off. My use of her nickname had alerted her to be ready to conduct, rather than simply attend, the meeting.
Lunchtime came and I touched down at the staging area just shy of noon. Myra still had some altitude and was circling her way downward when one of the vultures above and behind her apparently decided that they had us big birds on the run at last.
The vulture banked and came in fast behind Myra, then impacted her right wing with what was probably intended to be a glancing, ripping blow.
He bounced off her wing as if he'd hit a wall and seemed rather stunned for a moment, losing a lot of altitude before he began to recover enough to spread his wings firmly and regain his equilibrium.
The second vulture also skipped off Myra's right wing, but in a less disasterous manner. He was able to recover enough to change course, turn, and aim himself right at her face.
Myra let go of her guide bar to cover her face and her kite nosed up sharply, then slid backward and down through the air. The vulture flashed past her and Myra struggled to regain control of her kite.
Before I could say anything the flitter rose like a silver streak, interrupting Karen's field exercise and making her screech and grab her seat. Even before the flitter reached Myra's position the second vulture seemed to freeze motionless in the sky, it's wings spread wide. The flitter then moved beneath Myra and her motion also stopped, then her kite disappeared and she began to lower directly to the flitter's deck.
"Steph,” I said, “Bring that vulture down with you, please."
"Reason?” she asked.
"I'm going to pet it and let it try to hurt me while Myra watches. She forgot that she had a protective field and panicked when it came at her."
"Is this necessary, Ed?"
"I'm not going to hurt the bird, Steph. Make sure Myra's field is on, okay?"
When the flitter landed, I reached for the vulture and gathered his wings in carefully, then held him in both arms as a still-trembling Myra watched.
Steph released her field and the vulture went a little crazy for some moments, all claws and beak and angry terror as it slashed at my hands and face.
I managed to get a hand over the bird's head and it struggled less, but the beak still snapped at me and the claws tried to rip me open.
"Next time just duck,” I said to Myra. “See? No blood. No gore. He can't get through my protective field and he wouldn't have gotten through yours."
Feeding the vulture theta waves calmed him almost to sleep. I walked over to the nearest outbuilding and set the vulture on the edge of the low roof, then backed away and stopped sending the theta waves at him.
He instantly opened his eyes and seemed to explode for a moment, spreading his wings wide and—I suppose—swearing at me. After leaving a deposit on the roof, he leapt into the air and flapped away.
"That may have been an opinion,” I said, pointing to the vulture poop.
Myra laughed and said, “No doubt. How did you make him calm down like that?"
"Steph can generate theta waves,” I said, allowing the inference that she had. “Steph, how's the other bird?"
Still watching the vulture, Steph said, “Bruised. Shaken. I saw no broken bones."
Eyes wide, Myra asked, “You saw ... ?! Are you kidding? You're really saying that you were able to check that bird for broken bones?"
"Yes,” said Steph, turning to face her. “Ed thought that seeing him hold that vulture would help you put more faith in your protective field. Was he correct?"
Looking at me, Myra said, “Well, he seems okay, so I'd say yes. Thanks for pulling me out of the air, Stephanie. I really lost it up there."
Steph made a thoughtful face and said, “You had two thousand feet in which to correct matters. I think you might have managed without me."
"Maybe,” said Myra with a grin, “But thank you anyway, okay?"
"Myra,” I said to get her attention, “Watch."
I flicked open my folding knife and used it to shear a strip off a bit of lumber, then quickly drew the blade across the back of my hand. Myra's eyes bugged a bit and she gasped. I held the knife toward her. She didn't reach for it.
"You try it,” I said. “Try to cut yourself while your field is on."
"No, that's all right,” she said, raising a hand in protest.
I quickly slashed at her hand hard enough to drive it sideways.
Myra screeched and took a defensive stance as she screamed, “What the hell are you doing?!"
Putting my knife back in it's belt sheath, I pointed at her hand. She glanced at it without losing sight of me, then stared at her hand as she relaxed from her karate stance.
"I know you got me,” she almost whispered. “I felt it."
Heading toward the flitter, I
said, “Yup. Would have opened you up like the Grand Canyon without that protective field. Now we can go to lunch."
Mills sat glaring at me.
"What?” I asked her.
"Is that how you get your kicks?” she asked, “Scaring people?"
Raising both hands as if I had claws, I conversationally said, “Boo."
Myra giggled as she stepped aboard. Mills glared at her, too, then faced front as the flitter lifted toward the base.
"Myra,” I said, “The demonstration is over, so be sure to turn off your field before you try to eat or drink."
She reflexively looked down at herself, then grinned and said, “Right. Field off. I don't want to wear my corn like Wallace did."
As we landed, Mills stood up and said, “Let me know when you're ready to go back out,” then she stepped off the flitter and bulled her way through the building's doors.
"She doesn't like you very much, does she?” asked Myra, rising from her seat.
"She doesn't have to,” I said, also rising and stepping to the ground, “But I'm not sure that's her real problem with me."
Myra laughed and said, “Wooo! You think she's got the hots for you?"
I held the door for Steph and Myra as I said, “Nope. Not that. I think she's jealous as hell, that's all."
"Of you and Steph? ‘Scuse me, but wouldn't that mean she's got the hots for you?"
"No, it wouldn't, but it means that I have some things that she thinks she can't have."
Shaking her head, Myra asked, “Well, is that true?"
"Nope. Well, not completely, anyway.” Glancing at Steph and taking her hand, I grinned and said, “I doubt that she'll ever have a friend like Steph."
Steph grinned back at me.
Myra rolled her eyes and sighed as she said, “Oh, please. I'm not wearing my boots.” She pointed a finger at me and added, “And when you do and say stuff like that, it's no wonder people think you're ... uh ... well, involved."
"Screw what people think,” I said, pointing back at her, “Even you, sweetie."
"Oh, not me!” laughed Myra. “Never! You two act like honeymooners all the time, but I'd never think that. No, not me. No way!"
Throughout lunch Mills kept glancing our way. When we were nearly finished, I waited for one of her glances and waved her over, then rose to take my tray to the bins. Mills brought her tray and we got coffees, then we sat down to wait as Myra dumped her tray.
Book 4: 3rd World Products, Inc. Page 34