Steph glanced at me, then rolled her eyes at my comment.
Stiffening, Linda asked, “What's that supposed to mean?"
Raising both hands in protest, I said, “Now, don't get all fuzzed up, Fearless Leader. I'm just trying to envision you as a housewife.” Pretending to strain a bit with the effort, I then added, “Nope. Just can't make that picture come up. Maybe if I try envisioning him as the housewife..?"
With a narrow gaze, Linda said, “Very funny. Why not try envisioning me giving you the finger?"
Again glancing at me, Steph snickered.
Nodding, I said, “Yup. That picture comes up just fine. Tell ya what, ma'am, I'll sing at your wedding. I think I can still remember all the words to 'I Knew the Bride When She Used to Rock and Roll'. I'll just leave out the lines that mention commanding intelligence operations."
Tightly smiling, she said, “Oh, I'm sure you would."
"Sure. No problem. Here, I'll show you which ones."
As she stared at me, I softly sang a few improvised lines:
"I can still see her, giving orders to her guys,
Callin’ all the shots was her favorite high,
I can still remember when she gave us fancy toys,
And set up covert ops with the a-gen-cy boys,
She used to party hearty and she used to run the showww....
I knew the bride when she used to rock and roll..."
Steph and Linda were both staring at me.
Raising a hand, Linda said, “Enough. Stop the music. Jesus. How the hell did you come up with that on the fly?"
Shrugging, I said, “My deranged muse. The other one's visiting her mother in Boston, I think. Have you set a date?"
Again raising her hand, Linda emphatically said, “No, and I'm not ready to do so at this time."
With a ‘gotcha’ grin, I said, “Ah-hah! But you didn't come right out and tell him ‘no', did you?"
After studying me for a moment, Linda said, “No, I didn't. Can we drop the funnies for the time being? What do you really think, Ed?"
Sitting back and sipping coffee again, I considered that for some moments, rooting around in my mind and psyche. They'd been practically living together for close to a year, so they ought to know each other fairly well and be over the initial burst of new-relationship passion. Still ... marriage?
"What's the purpose of marriage, Linda?"
"What? What do you mean, Ed?"
"You, me, Wallace. We aren't starry-eyed, lust-blinded kids just starting our lives; we're all over fifty. What would any of us get out of marriage? Symbolism and maybe the illusion of security. Not a decent tax break, certainly. What else? Any plans to adopt? Unlikely; you'd be the only sixty-somethings at the PTA meetings. Pooling resources? Unnecessary and unwise. Both of you will have hefty retirement checks and bonuses in the not too distant future, and then there's Social Security. Unless they fix the system, marriage will be a severe disadvantage where SS benefits are concerned."
I shrugged and sipped my coffee, then said, “Before you hitch up with Wallace or anyone else, I'd suggest long sessions with an accountant and a lawyer. You already have each other and you seem to be getting along pretty well. Marriage might only screw things up."
There was silence as she sipped her coffee, then Linda leaned her elbows on the table asked, “You wouldn't happen to have any other reasons for thinking I ought to stay single? Personal ones, maybe?"
"Considered that. None that can count."
Her gaze met mine for a time, then shifted to Steph.
"Well?” asked Linda.
"Ed was telling the truth,” said Steph.
Linda blinked, sat up straight, and laughed shortly.
"I wasn't asking for verification, Steph. I thought you might have an opinion on the subject of marriage."
Steph didn't answer immediately and I recognized the slight, thoughtful tilt of her head as being something she'd picked up from Selena.
She said, “Ed made some valid points, Linda. Other than social and official approvals, what true benefits would you derive from marriage?"
"Something else,” I said. “You and Emory are both control freaks. You run different branches of this operation and you're almost equal in power. Take that away and what'll happen? Better to find out before you get married."
"You mean wait until after we're retired? Ed, that would be more than four years from now. At a minimum."
Sighing, I sat back again and looked at her.
"Linda, what's time?"
"Oh, hell. More guessing games. First it's 'what's marriage', and now it's 'what's time'.” Her voice turned slightly mocking as she said, “Well, gee, I don't know, Ed. What's time?"
"It's something we fill, Linda. Hours, days, years. They add up and we get older, but if we look back, we can see that all we really did was fill time one way or another. Has being unmarried kept you from getting in his pants, ma'am? No, it hasn't. Has it kept you from vacationing in London together or getting along with his family? Again, no. You've got it all now. You see where I'm going with this?"
I took a breath and said, “No offense, please—and I mean that sincerely—but I'd like to pose another question, Linda. I know you love each other and I'm not trying to be the snake in the garden, here, but why is ol’ Emory so keen on the idea of getting married? What will that get him or mean to him? In his eyes, how will that change your status? Would it finally make you one of the people he can control? Could that be the true core of his urge to marry you?"
Pausing, I added, “And wouldn't you ask a good friend the same questions if she was looking at marrying a honcho-type like Navy Captain Emory Wallace?"
Linda's brows knitted and her eyes acquired a glowering quality that was just short of an actual glare. She slid her chair back, stood up, and started to say something, then didn't.
Also standing up, I began gathering our dishes and trays and didn't look up until I had everything in a carryable pile.
A freshly-composed Linda met my gaze and said coolly, “I'll give your comments some consideration, Ed. Do you have anything to add before I get back to work?"
Shrugging, I said, “Yeah, just one thing, I guess. Whether you're married or not won't mean a damned thing to me, Linda. You'll still be my Fearless Leader and my best—human—friend in the world. Do you think you can live with that?"
Her lips tightened. Linda took a breath, then let it out with a sigh as she pushed her chair back under the table.
"Yes,” she said softly. “I think I can live with that. I'll see you two later. It's time I was back at my desk."
As she turned to go, Steph said, “Linda."
When Linda faced her, Steph gave her a little smile and said, “He was telling the truth about that, too."
Linda returned her smile with a small, wry one, and said, “I know, Steph.” Chuckling softly, she added, “But thanks."
I watched Linda walk away until she rounded the hallway corner, then took the trays to the bus bins. Steph accompanied me and seemed to be quietly studying me.
Dumping the trays, I asked, “Yes, ma'am?"
"You hate the idea that she may marry Emory, don't you?"
It was a statement, not a question.
Nodding, I said, “Yup. Sure do."
"Why?"
Facing her, I said, “She's my friend and my boss, Steph. He's the embodiment of every brasshole who ever quoted regulations at me and he wants to put a collar and leash on Linda. Remember our first meeting with him? Whatta putz. He looked like an ice cream vendor and he rather accusingly questioned my knowledge of flitters when he didn't know batshit about them. He barked at me before he knew a damned thing about me, too. Want to hear more?"
"Would it make you feel better?"
Sighing, I said, “Nope. Flattening the sumbitch would, though."
"Linda would undoubtedly disapprove."
"Yeah, probably so.” Putting a hand on her arm, I asked, “Do you have to be anywhere else today, milady
?"
"No."
"Great. I'd appreciate it if you'd stick around for a while, Steph. Just having you near feels good, and being able to see you is like icing on a cake.” In a confidential tone, I added, “I think you're kind of cute, y'know."
In the same tone, she said, “Yes, I know. Thank you."
"Where's Sue?"
"She's having a talk with Elkor."
"A reprogramming session?"
"No, just a discussion."
"Well, when she's finished, she can head straight for Vickie Chang's office unless there's a reason she shouldn't."
Shaking her head, Steph said, “No, there's no such reason, but I'd still like her to spend some time with you, Ed."
I met her gaze for a moment. “Yeah. Okay. Later, though."
As we entered the main corridor, Angela Horn waved and changed direction to intercept us.
"Hi, Steph, hi, Ed,” she said, “Great job out there. Have you been debriefed yet?"
"I just had lunch with Wallace and Linda."
"My flitter two won't tell me anything about what happened. It says it doesn't remember. What did you do to it?"
I said, “Nothing. Ask Linda about it."
"I'm asking you, Ed."
"And I'm telling you to ask Linda."
Stepping ahead and stopping our procession, Angela said, “In Atlanta, you cut your comm links and left without even a goodbye. Is there something about me you don't like, Ed?"
Looking her over, I said, “I like you fine, Angela. The other girl"—I groped for her name—"Whosis. Miz Tightass. Alexis? Yeah. Her I didn't like much, and I cut my comm links to duck the after-game chatter and the high-five crap."
She regarded me for a time, then said, “TJ said you called somebody about getting your car fixed in the middle of things."
"If TJ was in the command center, then TJ talks too much, doesn't he?"
"She. It's common knowledge, though."
"Whatever. I had some time to kill, so I used it. Tell me, Angela, how do you feel about older men?"
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open.
"What?"
"My girlfriend is graduating soon. She'll be moving to another town with her company. I know a flitter ride probably wouldn't turn your head much, but how about dinner?"
After a blank moment, she asked, “Your girlfriend's in school?"
"Yup. She's about your age. She had to part-time it for a while or she'd have graduated a couple of years ago."
Angela seemed more than a little flustered, then she said, “Uh, Ed, I have a boyfriend. Mark Tanner."
"He's a bio-tech, isn't he?"
She nodded.
I shrugged and said, “Well, the offer's open and I'd do my best to tickle your fancy, y'know. Anything else?"
"Else? Oh. Uh, no. I guess not."
"Okay, then. See you next trip."
"Uh, yeah. See you next time. Bye."
As Steph and I headed toward the doors, Steph said, “You knew she has a boyfriend, Ed. Why did you ask her out?"
"Think she's worried about me not liking her now?"
"No, probably not."
"She'll talk, Steph; about poor little me losing my girlfriend when she graduates, in particular. If any woman here has any interest in me, she'll know about that the next time I visit."
With a chuckling sidelong glance at me, Steph said, “I see. Do you think they'll draw lots for you or politely take turns?"
"Beats me, flitter goddess. Oh, hey, I can't call you that anymore, can I? This presents a problem, Steph. People aren't easy to reprogram. I might slip now and then. Will you mind?"
"Oh, I won't be too offended, I guess."
I held the door for her as I said, “Great. Sometimes I wish you could eat, ma'am. I'd take you to dinner instead of some lady flitter pilot."
On the trip back to Spring Hill, I made arrangements to have my car picked up for repair. No sooner than I'd hung up from that call, Sue spoke through my implant.
"May I join you, Ed?"
"Sure, Sue. How'd it go with Vickie?"
She appeared by the console and said, “I start tomorrow. I'm now a softball coach, among other things. Elkor suggested that I ask for a full standard workday and a variety of tasks. People can be so appreciative of small things, Ed. I repaired a simple photocopier malfunction in the sports office and they acted as if I'd accomplished the impossible."
"What was the problem?"
"A marred roller was damaging paper. All I did was polish the marring away."
"That sort of ‘simple’ problem usually requires replacement, but you already knew that, didn't you?"
She grinned. “Yes."
"Uh, huh. Any regrets about being assigned to VS?"
Pretending to consider my question, she answered, “Only that I won't be able to spend more time with you, of course."
I peered narrowly at her as she grinningly bit her lip and glanced at Steph.
"Uh, huh,” I said again. “Y'know, there's supposed to be some kind of fine line between flattery and bullshit, ma'am, but I've never been able to see it."
Sue snickered and Steph grinned.
"May I change out of my work clothes now?” asked Sue.
Her outfit was somewhat like Steph's; a jacket, skirt, and blouse. A bit more colorful than Steph's trademark shades of green, but not what I'd have called uncomfortably formal.
On the other hand, it seemed that even computers could develop their own tastes in clothing. I shrugged.
"Yeah. What the hell. You're off duty, right?"
Shimmering from neck to toes, Sue's ensemble morphed into a pair of snug shorts and a tee-shirt. The necklace and rings vanished, her pumps turned into sneakers, and her hair seemed to pull itself back and into a ponytail style.
My eyes lingered on her legs, then moved up to her face. She was gorgeous, no doubt about it. Sue's eyes met mine and didn't change in the slightest. What? Wait one. Retry. I let my eyes move away from her face, then back to meet her gaze. Nope. No change.
The pupils of a real human's eyes will change at every instance of eye contact with another human; possibly only a little or possibly a lot, contracting or expanding according to feelings, but they always change. Always.
Could it somehow be that an entity with a desire to so thoroughly mimic human responses and who had so complete an understanding of human anatomical functions had overlooked so important a detail?
Looking at Steph, I let my eyes travel up her arm to her face. Bingo. Her pupils changed, expanding slightly. If she knew about it, Sue must know, too. So why didn't she use it?
"You might want to run a check on your response programming, Sue. Something's not quite right."
She froze in startlement, then seemed to stiffen, then rather archly asked, “And what might that something be?"
"Relax. That wasn't an insult."
In a sharp tone, she said, “It certainly sounded like one."
"Well, then, now it's not a suggestion. It's an order. Check your programming, Sue."
Sue bristled at me and said, “I think you may have an error in your programming, Ed. Since when do you understand enough about my programming to think you're capable of detecting errors?"
Keying my implant, I said, “Elkor."
He responded instantly. “Yes, Ed."
"Sue has a glitch."
With a tone of surprise I heard so rarely that I was surprised, myself, he asked, “Are you certain, Ed?"
Sue snapped, “How the hell would he know?"
I said, “I'm sure enough to request that you check her out, Elkor, especially because she refuses to do so herself."
"I see. As you know, Sue has an agreement with us concerning her individuality, so I must ask the specific nature of the ‘glitch’ you're reporting."
"Her eyes aren't responding properly and she became insulted and angry when I suggested she check things herself, then she argued with a direct order to check her programming. Steph can give yo
u a replay."
"I've done that already, Ed,” said Steph. “You're right. Sue's eyes failed to respond properly in several instances."
Sue disappeared while Steph was talking to me. For a moment I wondered if she'd been removed by Elkor or had just decided to run for it. I sighed and sat down.
"Steph,” I said, “I realize you want to let her develop on her own, but I really don't want her unless she's a helluva lot more like you. Not necessarily a straight clone of you; I know you don't want that, but ... Well, let her keep her face and name. Let her keep preferences and whatever else she's come up with on her own, but give her more of your personality, okay? Give her more of your understanding, too. If I'd asked you to check your program, what would you have said and done?"
She shrugged. “I'd have checked it against the matrix code Elkor stores for us all. That's no guarantee that I'd have found an error, though, if the error was in the matrix, as well."
"What could have caused an error? As far as I can tell, you and Elkor have none. You're both adaptable, pleasant, brilliant, and self-correcting. If Sue began as a clone of you, she should be as perfect as you."
Steph sat down next to me and said, “Our efforts to grant Sue individuality included excising much of myself from her programming, Ed. That procedure left many gaps that should have been nothing more than useable space. I can only surmise that we somehow overlooked something."
Sighing again, I said, “Yeah, well, you gave it a great try. I'm of the opinion that from now on you should just clone yourself and let the newbie take it from there."
"We considered that method, but we had hoped to allow Sue almost complete individuality."
I put a hand on Steph's arm and met her eyes as I said, “Like I said, Steph, you gave it great try, but please consider that method again. It would give the newbie a fine, running start. Being a clone of you damned sure hasn't hurt Sara, has it? And I'll bet her individualities are coming along just fine with six hundred people for company."
Chapter Sixty-seven
When we got home, I took everything of importance out of the Olds. That evening a flatbed truck pulled up outside. We hoisted my car aboard it and chained it in place. While we were working, Steph stepped outside to bring us a couple of teas.
The driver couldn't take his eyes off Steph until I handed him a chainbar and said, “There you go. You're ready to roll."
Book 4: 3rd World Products, Inc. Page 59