"Got gas?” I asked, leaning to see the gas gauge.
"Half a tank. These cutouts have been happening a lot, lately. I haven't had time to take it to the shop."
She turned the key again with no luck.
Keying my implant, I whispered, “Flitter, come see if you can fix this car, please."
Georgia looked askance at me and asked, “What did you just say?"
Waiting for my implant to tingle from the flitter's proximity, I held up an index finger and said, “Wait one."
Her look became one of worry. “Wait for what? Why were you whispering?"
My implant tingled. I said, “Flitter, go to visible mode and land behind us, please."
Glancing back too soon, Georgia saw nothing behind us and turned to me again. I opened the door and got out of the car as the flitter settled to the parking lot behind us.
Using my implant, I asked, “Can you fix it?"
The flitter replied, “The fuel filter is obstructed. I'm clearing the obstruction now. I have cleared the obstruction."
As the driver's side door opened, I said, “Thanks."
Georgia hissed, “Oh-my-God..!” as she saw the flitter.
"It ought to start now,” I said. “Give it a try."
Turning her stare to me, Georgia said, “That's a flitter!"
"Yup, and it just fixed your car. Flitter, please ascend to two hundred feet and turn off visible mode."
The flitter rose into the night sky and vanished. Georgia let out a short, whispery little shriek and turned to me again. I got back into the car and closed the door as a hint. She stared upward for another few moments, then also got in.
For long seconds Georgia just stared at me, then she seemed to get angry and hissed, “You must think this is funny as hell."
"Funny how? The car died. Now it's fixed. Let's just get on with the evening."
Still seething, she asked, “You have one of those things, but you fished me for a ride?"
Sighing, I said, “Good thing, too, or you'd have been out here alone in a dead car. I didn't want to wonder if you were with me just because I had a flitter."
As she opened her mouth to say something else, her cell phone rang. Swearing softly, she snapped it open and answered with a terse, “Hello?"
I heard a woman identify herself as a nurse and ask who she was speaking with. Georgia gave her name. The woman asked if Georgia knew a Frank Robards.
With a visible measure of trepidation, Georgia answered, “Yes. Yes, I do. What's happened?"
"Ms. Miles, are you a relative?"
"No, but I know how to reach them. He lives next door in my apartment building. What happened?!"
"He's in stable but guarded condition, ma'am. He was in a car accident on M Street this afternoon. Are any of his relatives in the area?"
"No, they're in Ohio, but like I said, I can reach them."
"Can you come to the hospital, ma'am?"
Georgia said she could and was given instructions about who to see on what floor. After apologizing for being the bearer of bad news, the nurse hung up.
With shaking hands, Georgia disconnected and put her phone on the seat, then reached for the gearshift. She put the car in drive, realized she'd have to back out and put it in reverse. Her shaking foot goosed the gas pedal and she hastily hit the brakes before the car hit an ‘entrance’ sign.
I reached for the keys and turned off the engine.
"What the hell...?” She gave me an irritated stare as she tried to turn it back on and couldn't, then she shoved it into ‘park’ and reached for the key again.
"No,” I said, placing my hand on hers. “Wait a minute. Get out and walk around the car a few times. Stop the shaking before you try to drive."
"But..."
Pulling her hand away, I grabbed the keys out of the ignition, and said firmly, “Georgia, he's not going anywhere tonight. Neither is the nurse. Take a few minutes to get your head straight and calm down so you don't wind up in the hospital with him."
She looked at me rather starkly and said nothing as I dropped the keys on the seat.
Opening my door, I said, “Come on. Walk with me for a few minutes. Get yourself organized. Think about what they'll need to know at the hospital."
Nope. She made two quick stabs at the ignition with the key, got it into the hole, and started the car. Shoving the gearshift to ‘drive', she gunned the car forward in a tight circle toward the lot's exit. The passenger door swung closed hard enough to halfway-latch when she straightened out.
I tried feeding her some theta waves to calm her down and considered a light stun, but she was already in the street. The car would have kept going into the intersection anyway.
She ran the yellow light at the intersection as it turned red, turned left onto Wilson Boulevard, and hauled ass back toward D.C. With a sigh of disgust, I watched her go until she crested the hill, then called the flitter down and stepped aboard.
Sue appeared and asked, “Aren't you going to follow her?"
Shaking my head, I said, “Nope,” as I lifted my mug and sipped cold coffee, then asked, “How'd it go with Deanna and company?"
"Ed, Miles was very upset. She could have an accident."
"Exactly what I told her. You follow her if you want."
Sitting down beside me, Sue said, “I'm in her car, feeding her theta waves. Don't you care that she..."
Holding up a hand, I said, “No. She's history."
"Because she left you here?"
"No, because she left in a frenzy, even with my theta waves hitting her. People who can't think through a frenzy—or be reasoned out of one—aren't dependable companions, ma'am. Best to let them go as soon as you find out."
Her gaze was piercing, but I knew Sue'd read me as I'd answered. She faced forward in silence.
Chapter Sixteen
Keying my implant, I called up a field screen and poked Linda's icon. She answered almost immediately.
"Hi, Ed. What's up?"
"Sue's handed Deanna the keys to a probe system and the searches are done. Any reason I can't head for Florida?"
Her left eyebrow went up. “Hold one while I check with Jim. How was dinner?"
"The steak was fine. I didn't stick around long after that."
Sitting back in her chair, she said, “I see. What will Deanna tell me about the evening?"
Shrugging, I said, “Probably only that it was short and generally uninformative. I told her to call you about flitter ops."
"Ah. May I ask why? She's classed for the info."
"I didn't want to spend the evening that way and she knows where to get the facts. What about Florida, Fearless Leader?"
With a glance off-screen, she nodded and said, “Okay. All clear, as far as we know."
"Flitter,” I said, “Take us home, please,” then I asked Linda, “Can you tell me why Iran took hostages in the first place, and why they chose 3rd World personnel rather than US citizens?"
"Iran disavowed all involvement with the kidnapping. Of course. Even though almost all the personnel evacuated from the supposedly-defunct bunker complex were wearing Iranian military uniforms.” Shaking her head, Linda said, “I can't tell you why they chose 3rd World people,” in a manner I'd heard often enough over 30 years of working with her. She wasn't allowed to talk about it.
I asked, “Mind if I speculate a little?"
Grinning slightly, she shrugged and said, “No, not at all."
Nodding, I watched Linda's eyes as I said, “Nukes. The Iranians are developing weapons grade stuff again, the Israelis have promised to bomb the facilities like they did in the eighties, and the Middle East is considered too volatile at the moment, so someone asked 3rd World to help out quietly."
Linda said nothing, but neither did her eyes or expression change, so I continued, “3rd World may have offered to prevent launches or track materials or something like that and someone leaked. The Iranians got pissed and took hostages to warn us off. Does that about cover it
?"
Her eyes fixed on the screen and her right index finger rubbed something out of the corner of her eye as she replied, “Those are reasonable speculations, of course, but I really can't say, Ed. Sorry."
"It seemed worth asking. Thanks, anyway. Guess I'll let you go now and check my email or something."
"Okay. Later."
"Later."
She tapped her screen off, then I did the same. My coffee mug was almost empty. I downed the last couple of sips and shut the lid, then put the mug on the deck by the console.
Sue asked, “Why did you even ask her, Ed? Linda said she couldn't talk about those matters."
"Yup. But she also told me I'm generally on target."
With a wry, small smile, she asked, “Indeed? I didn't hear her confirm or deny anything you suggested."
Touching my right index finger to the corner of my eye, I replied, “Remember this motion? She used an old signal that means ‘yes'. If she'd used her left hand or touched her left eye, she'd have been saying ‘no'."
Moving the finger to rub the right side of my lower lip, I said, “This means ‘I can't talk', possibly because someone is either watching or listening. Using my left hand or touching the left side would signal my contact or watcher to keep silent. If your hands are tied or cuffed, there are signals that don't require touching your face."
Sighing, I said in a W.C. Fields voice, “Ah, yes ... The good old days. I kind of miss the Cold War sometimes, y'know? The constant trepidation, and all that. A sweet young thing like you just wouldn't have any idea at all. None at all."
Sue snickered. “That was almost a good imitation. He was a funny man."
Looking hurt, I asked, “Only almost?"
Nodding, Sue said, “Sorry. Only almost."
Shrugging, I said, “Well, it must have been good enough, since you recognized who I was shooting for. Sue, have you ever particularly noticed how the east coast of the US parallels the west coast of Africa? How the tip of Florida would tuck neatly against what's now Guinea and Sierra Leone if the continents were pushed back together?"
Blinking at me the way Toni would have at such an abrupt change of topics, Sue replied, “No, Ed, I haven't, and I'm rather wondering why you have."
"It isn't so strange an idea, Sue. Stephie went rooting for sunken treasure to finance her future. Now she's snuffling up raw gold and diamonds here and there. You have a future to consider, too, so I ask you; what do those African countries export, among other things?"
"I see. You're suggesting that there may be gold and diamonds under Miami?"
Shrugging again, I said, “Maybe way down under it. People have found gold and precious stones in Georgia and the Carolinas, but the bedrock in those states was shoved up into mountain ranges where people could reach it. And I'm pretty sure you'd play hell getting a permit to start a mining operation in Dade County. Besides, at the edge of the continental shelf you could probe the rock strata and rubble and let the Gulf Stream wash away the muck."
Keying up a field screen, I tapped up the Internet, then ran a search on ‘formation of Florida'. One site in particular had a somewhat detailed explanation of Florida's geophysical history, complete with illustrations, one of which depicted Florida's position on the ancient supercontinent called Pangea.
The US states of Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida generally matched up against the African countries of Mauritania, Senegal, Gambia, Guinea Bissau, Guinea, Sierra Leone, and possibly some of Liberia.
I highlighted some text that read: 'Florida's igneous and metamorphic basement rocks are similar to the subsurface rocks of northwestern Africa. Fossils and magnetic properties of Florida's Paleozoic rocks also match better with those of Africa than those of North America.'
As we landed in my driveway, I grinningly said, “If I had your abilities, I'd probably at least go have a look out there some weekend, milady. Couldn't hurt, anyway."
Sue brought up more precise maps of the two regions and fit them together in silence, then she looked at me with an expression that bordered dismay.
"Ed, this and other data concerning the formation of Earth has been accessible to me from my first conscious moment, yet your supposition has never occurred to me."
"Relax, ma'am, you aren't alone. If anyone's dredging for raw gold and diamonds offshore from Florida, I haven't heard anything about it, and it apparently never occurred to Steph or Elkor, either. Got any idea why?"
With another long look at the puzzle pieces on the screen, she turned off the console and said softly, “No. I haven't."
Looking at me, she said, “Ed, I have all the information on this planet at my command. You have at best a collection of data fragments, very often remembered or stated in a manner less than competely accurate. How are you able to surmise and deduce based on incomplete data?"
"I'm damned if I know how we do it, but it's something a lot of people seem able to do."
Grabbing my backpack, I stepped off the deck and held out a hand to her. She took it and stepped down, then the flitter lifted quickly into the sky.
When I took my eyes off the flitter, I found myself facing Sue. Her expression of dismay had, if anything, deepened.
I said, “You're still developing, okay? Intuitive stuff like this'll come to you sooner or later."
"Will it?"
"I don't see why not. You manage to figure out other things on your own, don't you? Give it time. Don't sweat it."
"I do ‘sweat’ it, Ed. I find it disturbing that you can envision such an obvious circumstance from half-remembered fragments of information while I can't envision the same with the sum knowledge of the world at my disposal."
Staring at her for a moment, I laughed softly and said, “Lordy, ma'am. That would have sounded snooty as hell coming from anyone but you. Or Steph or Elkor, I guess."
Laughing again, I sighed, “Gee, lady, I'm sorry my paltry little midget mind snookered your godzilla behemoth computer brain on this one, but them's the breaks, y'know."
Sue glowered at me. “I didn't intend to insult you, Ed. You know that."
Kissing her hand with a grin, I took Sue's arm to lead her to the house as I said, “Sure, I know that. But someone else wouldn't, except maybe Linda."
Opening the front door and ushering her in, I added, “By the way, Sue, I aimed that bit of supposition at you alone. Steph's already put quite a pile together, and I don't want you to be destitute when you hit the road next year."
Nodding, she replied, “Understood—and thank you—but I've already consulted Steph. She extrapolated your intent and suggested that you might not be a complete slavedriver."
As Tiger joined us by the door, I said, “Hi, Tiger!” and reached to pat him.
Tiger greeted us and accepted a chin rub from me as Sue said, “When I leave your service, I'll be joining Steph in the further expansion of her company.” Grinning, she added, “I'll learn from her missteps before starting my own enterprise."
I returned her grin. Sue picked up Tiger as I set my backpack by the coffee table and took out my coffee mug, then she followed me into the kitchen.
Tiger was apparently in one of his less talkative moods. He seemed content to soak up the quieter attention of being held and petted by Sue as I made a coffee.
A presence materialized behind me. I continued stirring my coffee as I said, “Hi, Steph."
She said, “Hi, Ed,” as I rinsed the spoon and put it atop the coffee jar, then turned to face her.
Sue said with a trace of irritation, “That's something else I'd like explained in a satisfactory manner someday."
Steph chuckled and said, “Don't hold your breath. We never figured it out during my three years with him.” To me, she said, “I found your supposition disconcerting, too, Ed."
Grinning, I asked, “Because..?"
With a wry smile, she replied, “As you said, our capacities for information storage and data correlation appear to differ."
Laughing, I
said in a hillbilly accent, “Well said, ma'am! Oh, wow! I ain't feelin’ nowhere near as retarded now."
Still smiling wryly, she sighed heavily and said, “How nice for you, of course. Ed, in your latest supposition we may find yet another occasion to thank you. You've supplied me with several very beneficial ideas, not the least of which is the very PFM innovation that's the foundation for my business."
Steph glanced at Sue, who gave me an innocent look when I followed Steph's gaze, which meant something was up. When I looked back at Steph, she said, “I'd like to make you a limited part of my business, Ed."
I noted her use of the word ‘part’ as opposed to ‘partner'.
"Thanks, but it wasn't necessary last year and it's no more necessary now, Steph."
"I know how you feel, but unless my offer will in some way cause you harm, I insist."
Shrugging, I said, “Harm, huh? Well, I guess it couldn't do that unless the taxes get ridiculously high. Limited how?"
She sat down at the kitchen table. Sue and I joined her there before she spoke again.
"I propose to pay you a monthly retainer equal to one percent of each month's profits. I know that sounds small, but for a time, I'll be ploughing nearly all proceeds back into..."
Interrupting her by raising a hand, I said, “No problem. I've set up a few small businesses, too. I know how it is."
Sue gave me an odd look and asked, “Small? Ed, don't you realize the scope of..?” Seeing my grin, she subsided with, “Oh. Yes, I suppose you do."
"Yes, ma'am. In my own limited little way, yes, I do."
"You aren't going to forgive me for that altogether unintentional slight, are you?"
Shrugging, I said, “Oh, sure I will, ma'am. Eventually. Once I've managed to process it completely with my dreadfully limited capacities for data, that is."
Steph laughed. Sue stuck her tongue out at me exactly as Toni would have. I gave her a wide, saccharine grin and turned back to Steph.
"One percent is fine, thanks. You may have to help me think up ways to spend it, though. How soon do you expect to begin shipping PFMs to customers?"
"Some will be delivered to 3rd World's distribution offices next month. After outfitting their own personnel, they'll begin filling Amaran orders as we prepare to market PFMs on Earth."
Book 5: 3rd World Products, Inc. Page 18