He knocked.
No answer.
Mack knocked harder and finally pounded on the door.
Back in the truck he’d decided he needed another beer ‘cause Shelly’s being out was really pissin’ him off.
Drinking the last beer in his six-pack, Mack saw Shelly enter her apartment. He realized she hadn’t been “out” engaging in any nightlife because she hadn’t been dressed up. He got out of his truck to goisa truck talk to her… then realized that even though a six-pack wasn’t much compared to what he drank sometimes, he’d better not try to talk to her with beer on his breath. With a sigh, he told his truck’s AI to take him home.
To his and Shelly’s empty, lonely home.
He’d just have to come back and talk sense into her tomorrow night.
***
Carter DeWitt sighed. There were no jobs for someone with an undergraduate degree in physics. After all that effort; busting his ass in construction and taking out loans to get enough money to finish his degree, he’d found out that the degree was essentially worthless, at least to him. He’d need a graduate degree to get a real physics job. No one advertised jobs for a physics BS it seemed. Why hadn’t he thought to look at the job market before he’d gone for the degree? He shrugged, he loved physics and it seemed to him like something that should be in demand. There probably were jobs, but he couldn’t find any in this region.
Carter couldn’t afford to go to grad school, he had a child and, already in debt, their financial situation wouldn’t tolerate it. He felt a tap on his arm. He looked down from his HUD (Heads Up Display). His daughter Jennifer’s pale blue eyes stared seriously at him, looking concerned. “Hey Jenny. What’s up?”
Nearly eight, and an unusually serious child, Jennifer crawled onto his lap and he put an arm around her. Quietly she said, “Are you going to be able to get a job Daddy?”
“Of course honey, why wouldn’t I?” he said bravely, thinking to himself that there were a lot of reasons.
“Mommy’s worried about it. She told Aunt Carol. And she told Aunt Carol that her boss might not get his grant renewed. She thinks she might get ‘laid off.’ What does ‘laid off’ mean?”
“That’s when the job you’ve been doing doesn’t need to be done anymore. So your boss can’t keep paying you, ‘cause the boss doesn’t have any work for you to do.”
“Oh.” Jennifer said, frowning. “So then Mommy will have to look for work too?”
“Maybe, but maybe her boss will get his grant.”
“What do you have to do to get a job for you?”
“Well, believe it or not, that’s what I was doing when you patted me on the arm. I’ve been looking at jobs on my HUD.”
“How do you do that?”
“Just ask your AI to look for available jobs for someone like you. So you could look for jobs for beautiful, blond, blue eyed, eight year old girls.”
Jennifer poked him wide eyed, “I’m not beautiful.”
Carter drew his head back in astonishment. “Yes you are!”
“And I’m not eight! I’m still seven.”
Carter frowned, “But you’re smarter than any eight year old.”
She grinned, “Well, I’m gonna find a job for you.” She slid off his lap onto the couch next to him and, looking up at her HUD, she started mumbling to her AI.
After gazing a moment longer at his preternaturally serious little girl, Carter leaned back and looked up at his own HUD.
Carter had given up on his search for physics jobs and started looking at construction jobs when he felt Jennifer patting his arm again. Faintly irritated, he looked her way.
She said, “What about this job?”
A flicker on his HUD told him her AI had passed a listing to his AI. He looked up at it and his excitement grew.
Wanted—individuals with experience in construction and a BS or better degree in Engineering, Physics, or Chemistry.
Carter leaned over to hug his daughter, “Honey, you done good,” he said huskily.
***
Farshid frowned at the small device he held in his hand. It consisted of a small tube, threaded on one end. The other end was closed and attached by wire to a small lump of very hard plastic. “And this will do what, Abbas?”
“Oh, it is a very dangerous device indeed. Hold it over the bowl.”
Farshid did so and then dropped it cursing when water began to pour out of the tube into the bowl. The device fell into the bowl and his chair went over backward. “What! What!” he exclaimed, hoping he didn’t appear as panicked as he felt.
Abbas smiled, “Reza has the other end immersed in the sink in the bathroom upstairs.”
Farshid frowned, “But… how?” He took his seat again staring at the device.
“It’s one of those ‘ports’ that you’ve seen in the news. They can let you move fluids from one location to another. They’re only selling a few so far so I had a terrible time getting this one!”
Farshid frowned at the device in the bowl another moment, then shrugged. “So what?”
Abbas made a small grin and raised an eyebrow, “So, we send that,” he pointed at the device in the bowl, “to the White House. Then we hook Reza’s end up to a propane tank.” His smile broadened further, “Then we hold a match up to our end. Boom!”
Farshid blinked, then fell back in his chair, eyes wide. “Abbas, that is brilliant! I will send a query over our PGR link to get permission. I suspect that the Ayu that tatollah may approve this himself.”
Abbas washed his hands together excitedly. “Do you know that both the PGR link and these ports were invented by that Donsaii girl that we tried to kill at the Olympics about six years ago? It is almost better that we didn’t succeed. First she provided us with unbreakable secret transmissions and now, weapons to use against the Great Satan!”
Chapter One
Shan looked over at “Raquel,” still bemused to be dating Ell Donsaii’s alter ego Raquel Blandon. “You sure you won’t be too bored just watching us play?”
She grinned at him. “Depends on how you play.” She arched an eyebrow. “You gonna impress me?”
His thoughts derailed a moment as he thought back to the time she’d filled in on his team when two of his teammates couldn’t make it. That day he’d thought she played amazingly well “for a girl.” Now he suddenly wondered if “Ell Donsaii” had been holding back to keep from embarrassing the guys who were playing. “Would I be able to impress you?” he asked with a frown.
Her smile widened even further, “You impressed me just by asking that question.”
They approached the court and Ryan tossed the ball to Shan, “Hey go warm up while I try to make time with your girlfriend.”
Shan barked a laugh, “Like you’d have a chance.” He dribbled out onto the court and started taking shots.
Ryan grinned and followed Ell as she walked over under the basket, saying, “Raquel, you ready to dump that guy and go out with a real man yet?”
Ell smiled up at him, “Hmmm, sounds interesting.” She slanted a look up at him, “Do you know a real man?” She rebounded a ball and tossed it back out to Shan.
“Oh! Cheap shot.” Ryan drew himself up, “Don’t you recognize a truly amazing specimen of the human male when you see one?”
Ell let her eyes run up and down him; then looked out at Shan, “Oh, there it is,” she said, grinning and eventually slanting another glance at Ryan out of the corner of her eye.
Hand on his chest Ryan sighed, as if disheartened, then perked up, “How ‘bout if, after the game, Shan and I play a little ‘one on one’ for the privilege of going out with you?”
Ell rebounded another ball to Shan; then looked at Ryan a moment. She’d been thinking that all this was teasing, but now realized that Ryan was half teasing, half serious. She raised an eyebrow, “Surely you aren’t implying that I’m some kind of ‘property’ that you two wannabe alpha males can gamble over?”
He had the decency to blush, “Uh, no. So
rry that didn’t sound very good did it?”
“No it didn’t. If yo slu want to gamble for my ‘favors,’ you’ll have to gamble with me. Horse?”
He frowned a moment until he realized she was offering to play “H-O-R-S-E” with him to determine whether he could take her out. Thinking that, because there was no way she could win at horse, this was just her way of agreeing to a date, he smiled hugely. “Oh, you’re on lady. What’s your favorite restaurant?”
“Whichever one Shan takes me to.”
“Oh, a challenge!” He trotted back onto the court, saying, “Horse after the game then.”
With Ell standing on the sidelines cheering them on Shan, Ryan and their two teammates played well, easily overmatching their opponents. During a period when Shan stood on the sidelines while the other three were playing he quietly asked, “Does it feel weird standing here as our cheering section of one when you’ve had the whole world cheering for you at the Olympics?”
Ell smiled up at him. “Nope, this is fun. The Olympics was only really one day of my life and, though it was amazing… the stuff that happened the next day put a damper on my memory.” She looked up at him and lowered an eyebrow, “Though I hope you don’t think I’m going to come to all of your games?”
He snorted, “No, I’m amazed you came to even one. But thanks, it’s fun having a cheering section.
A little later Ryan and Ell stood on the sidelines together. He shuffled his feet a little and said, “I’ve been thinking how rude it was of me to bet you for a date. And, no matter how much I admire you, it isn’t right for me to do that to my buddy Shan.”
Ell said, “You’re right, want to call it off?”
“No, I want to tell Shan we have the bet to make him sweat. We’ll only tell him that it’s a fake when he’s really sweating you going out with me after we play.”
“Hah! Surely you aren’t assuming you’re going to win?”
Ryan snorted and raised an eyebrow, “Oh no, of course not.”
“Well, I’m still counting on you buying me dinner.”
The guys won their first two games and therefore the match since it was “best two out of three.” This left the court open for Ell and Ryan to play horse. When they stayed out on the court Shan said, “Raquel, I thought we were going to Chipotle?”
“We are, as soon as I put Ryan here in his place. We’ve a wager on a game of horse.” Ell winked at Shan with the eye Ryan couldn’t see.
Shan frowned, “What’s the bet?”
“If he wins he’s buying me dinner.”
Shan snortesed>Shan sd, “He’s trying to win a date? That’s low even for Ryan. What about when you win?”
“Oh that’s right.” Ell grinned and turned to Ryan, “What’s your debt when you lose?”
Ryan grinned, “If I lose, I take you out to dinner?”
“Hah, good one. I think when you lose you should take both Shan and I out to dinner.”
Rolling his eyes, Ryan shrugged, “OK.”
Ryan waited for Raquel to dribble a little and shoot a few to “get used to the ball again.” She put up a “rim clanger,” a bank in and one that dropped right through the hoop. “I’m ready,” she said. “How do we decide who goes first.”
Ryan extended an open hand “Ladies first.”
“OK,” Raquel said and tossed him the ball.
“Oh, burn!” he grinned and took the ball to the top of the key. He said, “Nothing fancy, just put it in,” and shot, putting the ball in off the glass.
Shan rebounded and tossed it back out to Raquel. She stepped to the top of the key and dropped the ball in.
Off the glass, Shan noticed. In fact, her shot looked exactly like Ryan’s, though Ryan certainly assumed that that was accidental.
Raquel asked, “So do we keep shooting from the top of the key until one of us misses or do I get to pick a new shot since I made yours?”
Ryan, somewhat surprised that she’d made the shot from the top of the key said, “Pick your own shot.”
Raquel promptly turned around and, holding the ball in both hands in front of her waist, arched over backwards until she could see the basket. Then using two hands she launched a shot that dropped through the hoop without touching the rim.
Ryan missed for his “H.”
Raquel bounced one into the hoop from the free throw line.
Ryan missed for his “O.”
Loping toward the basket, Raquel bounced one off the backboard, back into her hands as she continued her run up, caught the ball off its bounce, and put it in.
Ryan missed for his “R.”
Raquel hooked one, behind her head, into the hoop, from the three point line near the baseline.
Ryan missed for his “S.”
Raquel stood directly beneath the basket, tossed the ball up just in front of the basket, then reached out and kicked it. Up and into the basket!
Ryan missed for his “E.”
dth="3em">When Ryan had rebounded the ball and looked after her in astonishment, Raquel and Shan were walking away. Raquel called back, “We’ll be waiting at Chipotle for you to buy our dinner.” Gaping, Ryan glanced up at the basket feeling it had betrayed him. He’d never seen such a run of bizarre lucky shots!
As they walked out of the gym, Shan frowned and asked, “Can you dunk?”
Ell glanced back at a basket, considering. “I’ve never tried.”
“But can you jump that high?”
She shrugged, “Maybe… well, almost certainly.”
“Try it!”
She eyed him, “I’m not your freak… I’m your girlfriend. I have no need to know whether I can dunk or not.” She raised an eyebrow, “Neither do you.”
“Hah! I’m back in my place, madam.”
She grinned at him, “And you’d better stay there! I’m pretty hungry. Do you think Ryan will flip out if I eat two burritos?”
***
Shelly stopped half way up the stairs when she saw Mack standing by her door. “Mack,” she said suspiciously, “what are you doing here?”
“I want you to come home.”
“Have you stopped drinking?” Though Shelly had decided that she would have to divorce Mack, she had loved him back when he’d been sober. If he stopped drinking she still considered it possible that they might get back together someday.
“Haven’t had a drink today.”
She sighed, “Come back when you haven’t had a drink for a month. I’d be happy to talk to you then.”
“Come on Shelly. I need your help. With you by my side I’ll be able to do it.”
For a moment she felt guilty, then firmed her resolve. “Mack, I’ve been trying to get you to quit for five years. If you really haven’t had a drink today, maybe me being gone is the best thing that’s happened to you.”
Mack started her way, “Come on, Shelly!”
Shelly shook her head and backed down the stairs. She crossed the quadrangle. When Mack had reached the bottom of the stairs and begun lumbering toward her, she bolted up the other stairs and back over to her apartment, locking herself in. Mack arrived back at the door and started pounding on it. “Mack, do I have to call the police?” Shelly called through the door.
He stopped pounding and leaned on the door for a minute in frustration. Trying not to growl he said, “I’ll be back in a month.” He turned to go. Or maybe in a month and a day, he thought, ‘chad+0">ause I sure need a drink tonight.
***
Ell looked around the conference table at the D5R leaders. Fred, Vivian and Brian were there from Portal Tech; Rob and Ben represented ET Resources; and Roger and she represented Quantum Research. “All right,” she said, “What’s going on at Portal Tech?”
Fred smiled, “We’re continuing the gradual increase in port production that the government requested. It isn’t really hurting us that much because prices have soared. We’ve had some strategy sessions on how to ramp up more rapidly if the government rescinds their request for slow release in respon
se to the mounting pressure.
“On the research side, we’re about ready to test some prototype twenty and fifty centimeter ports. We don’t know if they’ll work without burning themselves out. The twenty requires a hundred kilowatts and the fifty runs 650 kilowatts so keeping them cool isn’t a trivial problem. For anything but larger solid objects it’s probably better to use multiple five or ten centimeter ports. It’d take four 10cm ports to equal the cross sectional area of a 20cm port and together they’d use a 100 kilowatts too, so it doesn’t really save energy, but they’ll likely be more durable.”
Ell said, “Well, we need to push the envelope on port size so we’ll know what can be done. Good luck.” She turned to Roger, “Can you tell us what you’ve learned about sending living animals through ports, Rog’? If they can make ports big enough, are we going to be able to port ourselves somewhere?”
Roger grimaced, “I’m certainly not ready to hop through a port myself. In addition to the agony that’s associated with putting even a part of yourself through a port, every organism with a nervous system seems to have a pretty serious seizure. It doesn’t seem to shorten the lifespans of bees or mice, but rats don’t do as well on maze type IQ tests for at least a week or two after we put them through. We had some hopes for protecting the animals with drugs or shielding but so far they’ve only diminished, not prevented the effects.”
Ell shrugged, “Shucks. Any other news from the Portal group?”
Vivian said, “We’ve been pretty successful with our antiterrorist program for the ports. The ones we sell have their speed limited according to their intended use in order to prevent people who aren’t certified for it from building a missile. You were right about your circuit modifications by the way. We can limit the speed of one port relative to another with those mods rather than having to have a computer follow them with GPS. So we sell pretty fast ones to aircraft manufacturers and really fast ports only to companies that work in space. The rest of them only go slow.”
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