3rd World Products, Inc., Book 5

by Ed Howdershelt

  Linda snickered, "Such selfless devotion. A few hours or so while we monitor a few things. Oh, and Deanna offered to take you to dinner on 3rd World's nickel. What should I tell her?"

  "Tell her I skipped lunch and she shouldn't get too close to me until I've been fed."

  "How about I just tell her you said 'yes'?"

  Shrugging, I said, "Yeah, okay. That'll do, too, I guess."

  "Okay. Meet her at five in her office at the 3rd World building. Call her if you'll be late. Oh, by the way; her husband will be with her. Still want to go?"

  Sighing, I said, "That must mean she's not going to pounce on me later. Oh, well. Might as well take the dinner anyway."

  Laughing, Linda poked her 'off' icon. I saw Inger end a talk with someone by the elevator and watch the door close, then he seemed to straighten and take a breath before he came jogging toward the flitter, slowing some distance away and easing forward in a hurried fashion. Once he saw the flitter, he took two strides and hopped aboard.

  "Done!" he said exuberantly. "By God, we did it! This morning they were giving long odds, but we fucking did it!"

  "No hugging," I said, raising a hand. "Try to remember it's just a job."

  Ingers grabbed my hand in a shake, laughed, and said, "Come on downstairs and meet some of the people in support."

  "Can't. Got a dinner date at five."

  He just blinked at me for a moment. "No shit?"

  "No shit. I've been invited to dinner. Somebody thought I'd starve if she didn't feed me."

  After another moment, he asked, "She? Ms. Baines?"

  "Nope. She's in Carrington."

  "How do you know anyone here? You're from Florida."

  "I know half a dozen people here, but what's that to either the State Department or the CIA?"

  "She's with 3rd World?"

  Giving him a big grin, I said, "That's something to check out, isn't it? Later, Inger."

  When he didn't immediately respond, I added, "That was a hint. I have to get moving."

  "You'll be around tomorrow?"

  Shaking my head, I said, "Not without excellent reasons. I got the hell out of D.C. years ago. See you later."

  He stalled, asking, "Is she one of the women who were with you when I first came aboard?"

  "Nope. Sorry. Flitter, if Mr. Inger isn't off this deck in ten seconds, you're to pick him up and put him by the elevator."

  Inger met my gaze for another couple of moments, then hopped over the side. Pissed? Not pissed? Hard to tell with company types. They're never off the clock.

  When I landed on 3rd's roof, one man stood by the elevator door. I picked up my backpack and coffee mug and stepped off the deck into visibility as the flitter rose to parking altitude.

  "Ms. Saunder told me to drop by for dinner," I told him.

  He nodded and handed me a visitor's badge with my picture on it, saying, "We got the word a few minutes ago. Fourth floor, three doors on the right from the elevator." Looking over my fatigue shirt and jeans, he said, "Bill said you'd be going to dinner. Is that what you're planning to wear?"

  Shrugging, I said, "Unless someone wants to loan me a suit, I guess so. Her husband's coming along, so it isn't a date."

  "Got a gun in the pack? Any weapons?"

  Extending the pack to him, I said, "Nope."

  He didn't take it. Holding the elevator open, he asked, "You gonna leave your flitter on the roof?"

  Clipping the badge to my shirt pocket flap, I said, "Nope. It's already gone."

  When the doors opened on four, I headed to the right and found 'D. Saunder' on the third door, just as advertised. A white man and a black woman were having a subdued argument as I entered the office. Both were about five-seven, so they were almost nose-to-nose.

  After a glance at me, the man picked up a paper on the desk and said he'd go up the line with it if he had to. The woman told him to do whatever he felt he had to do, then stepped around him to face me and asked as she eyed me, "May I help you?" in a manner that let me know I was interrupting her world.

  She was thirty-something, black as a coal pit, and her hair was close-cropped as if she simply didn't want to deal with it. She had good legs, a workout figure, and lots of attitude, perhaps much of it residual from their confrontation.

  I introduced myself and said I was there to see Deanna Saunder. The guy's eyebrow went up in a fisheye look and his eyes seemed to lock on my shoes for a moment.

  Making a study of my fatigue shirt and jeans, the woman said, "She's out of the office at the moment."

  "No problem. I'll wait."

  Somewhat more firmly, she said, "She didn't say when she'd be back."

  Equally firmly, I repeated, "No problem. I'll wait."

  As she opened her mouth to say something else, I held up a hand and said, "I'm supposed to be here at five. I'll-wait."

  The guy standing behind her saw her stiffen at my last words and grinned as he quickly stepped away from her. The woman bristled at me briefly, then turned to face him and told him she'd see him tomorrow.

  Her tone made her statement an order of dismissal. With another grin, the guy raised his hands as if to keep her from attacking and eased around her to the door.

  In a confidential tone on the way out, he stage-whispered, "Good luck, boyo. You'll need it."

  As soon as the door closed behind him, the woman's gaze narrowed at me and she said in a tight voice, "Now, sir, I'm Roberta Lincoln, Ms. Saunder's personal assistant. I'd know if she had dinner plans, and she didn't..."

  Holding up a hand to interrupt her, I said, "Just put all that on the shelf for a minute, lady. Why the hell would I lie to you? Check it out with Deanna."

  Taking a seat on the couch, I set my coffee mug down and called up a field screen to check my email. Lincoln acted about the same as if I'd pulled a gun, backing up a pace with a soft, gasping, high-pitched, "Ahh!"

  Since I'd thought just about everybody knew about the new PFM's that were supposed be appearing soon, her startlement startled me, as well.

  I asked, "What? It's just a field screen. You use them, too."

  She straightened and her gaze narrowed as she brought a flat, brushed-steel lozenge about an inch long and two inches wide and held it up between her thumb and index finger.

  "Not without one of these, we don't..." Suddenly pointing at me, she replied, "Now I know who you are! Why are you wearing a visitor's badge?"

  I let the field screen disappear and shrugged.

  "A guard handed it to me when I came in." Plucking at my shirt, I added, "He seemed to think my outfit needed a little something extra."

  Her eyebrow went up. "It does if you're going to dinner with Ms. Saunder. Did you bring a suit?"

  "Nope. Any chance she'll settle for a nice buffet restaurant?"

  Lincoln's bark of laughter was sharp. "I doubt it."

  Hm. I fed Lincoln some theta waves as I keyed my implant and asked, "Sue? Can you spare a minute?"

  Giving me an odd look, Lincoln muttered, "Huh?" just as Sue appeared beside her. Even with the theta waves, Lincoln looked as if she might freak out a little, so I boosted the feed.

  "This is my friend Sue," I said. "Sue, this is Roberta Lincoln, Deanna's personal assistant. I called because I may soon have a wardrobe problem."

  Sue gave me a saccharine grin and said, "No, I simply won't allow myself to say it."

  Returning her grin in kind, I said, "Good. I haven't had to order anyone to scrub a latrine with a toothbrush for a long time. You and Steph wear field-generated clothes. Is there any reason I couldn't add a few outfits to the ones already on tap?"

  Shrugging, she said, "No problem."

  Lincoln had relaxed to the point that my theta waves were almost making her drowsy. I canceled them. She immediately tightened up and took a deep breath.

  "Uhh..." she said, shaking her head slightly, "I, uh, I don't... You're his computer? I mean..."

  With just a trace of frost in her voice, Sue said, "I am a computer prog
ram and I've been assigned to assist him, but I'd stop well short of calling myself 'his' computer."

  Instantly looking apologetic, Lincoln quickly said, "Oh. Uh, no offense, ma'am. I only thought... well, I mean..."

  The door opened and Deanna entered past a guy in a corduroy sports jacket, saving Lincoln from having to continue. The guy stopped just inside the office and looked me over as Deanna came forward with an outstretched hand.

  "Hi, Ed. This is Sue, right?"

  "Right," said Sue, also shaking her hand.

  Deanna interrupted the handshake to study Sue's hand and breathed, "Wow! You look and feel so real!"

  Stepping forward, the guy said, "Mark Saunder. I heard all about you this afternoon." Switching his gaze and handshake to Sue, he added, "You too, ma'am. They say you can appear and disappear at will. Is that true?"

  Vanishing while still shaking his hand, Sue said, "Yes, it is, Mr. Saunder."

  Saunder froze and stared at his apparently empty hand that didn't feel empty at all. Sue reappeared as he released her hand. Laughing, Deanna took his arm and patted his shoulder as he continued to gaze thoughtfully at Sue.

  Then Deanna's gaze turned to me. Her eyebrows went up as she 'discovered' my golf shoes and she cleared her throat.

  I turned to Sue. "Like I said, a possible wardrobe problem."

  A field screen full of men's clothing appeared in front of me as everyone seemed to retreat a pace in surprise. I motioned to Deanna and Roberta Lincoln to come take a look.

  "You ladies pick something. If I agree, Sue can make it happen."

  After an amazed glance at Sue, Deanna took a close look at me, then chose a dark teal sports jacket, a medium-blue casual shirt, and slacks to match the jacket.

  Roberta shrugged and said, "Yeah. That'll work," then asked, "What about shoes?"

  "Boots," I said. Turning to Sue, I asked, "How about my gray suedes? Think those would do?"

  "Probably. Should I begin now?"

  "You can use my office," said Deanna, pointing at the door beyond Roberta's desk.

  "Not necessary," said Sue. "I can use masking fields."

  The field screen expanded to become seven feet tall, three feet wide, and its surface became a mirror. I saw that I was now wearing the clothes from the catalog.

  Through my implant, Sue said, "I've added this outfit to your implant's programming. Just say 'six suit on' when you want it."

  Nodding, I fingered the field generated 'material' of the jacket and said aloud, "Thanks, Sue. This is great! I won't even have to dump my pockets. Have I called you a creature of magic lately?"

  As the others also fingered my jacket and shirt, she said, "Yes. Last Thursday afternoon."

  Taking her hand and kissing it, I said, "Well, it's still true, milady. Will you be coming to dinner with us?"

  She smilingly looked at the others and replied, "If nobody objects to the fact that I don't eat."

  Deanna blinked at her, then laughed, "What? No! I mean, that doesn't matter. You're welcome to join us, Sue." Glancing around, she asked, "Is everybody ready to go?"

  Roberta went to the desk for her purse as Mark opened the door to the corridor, then we filed out and headed for the elevators.

  "The restaurant is only a block away," Deanna said to me, "So we're walking. I hope you like American food."

  "Sure. Steak. Potatoes. The good stuff."

  "I can't believe you're a computer," Roberta said to Sue, and thus began a discussion of capabilities and limitations that lasted until we were outside and halfway to the street corner.

  As we waited for the light to cross the intersection, a black, gold-trimmed 1970-something Cadillac full of black guys went past on the other side of the street, its boom-box stereo filling the area with barely intelligible rap noise.

  The Caddy slowed with some hoots and hollers and a "Woooo, mama!", then did a U-turn and cruised to a stop in front of us as the front passenger turned the noise down a bit.

  There were five guys in the car, and every damned one of them seemed to have something to say about the women of our group before the front passenger grinningly asked Roberta, "Whassa fine ho like you doin' with all them whiteys? Don' you wanna hang with your own kind? Don' you wanna try some fine black meat like we got in this car?"

  He pointed at his lap and shared a fat laugh with everybody else in the car. Roberta reached into her purse and the guy reacted by quickly opening his door and lunging at her.

  "You ain't gonna mace my ass, bitch! You ain't gonna..."

  His hand locked on her wrist as her right foot flashed upward in an apparent attempt to try to punt his balls up into his brain. The guy froze, paled, and retched beside the car as Roberta's hand emerged from her purse with a stun wand.

  She stunned him hard, almost putting him out cold as he landed in his own mess and prevented the car's back door from opening. The driver's side doors of the car opened almost instantly and two guys got out while the other two in the back seat scooted across to do the same.

  One of the guys sliding across the back seat produced a gun. Roberta and I both stunned him through the window. The guy slumped back and rolled onto the floor.

  The driver skirted the front of the car as the others came around the back. Roberta stunned the nearest one, but couldn't hit the one behind him until the first one went down.

  I whispered, "Five suit on," and waited for the driver. When he saw I wasn't retreating, he gorilla-walked to one side of me to try separate me from the others and I let him do it instead of stunning him.

  When his fist came at me, I was ready; I ducked and he spent half a second off balance. My foot came up and the toe of my field-generated boot met his gut twice before I stepped back to see how he'd take that.

  He took it pretty well, actually, in that he wasn't completely doubled over and was still on his feet instead of his knees. As he glared up at me, I keyed my implant and created a small ball of sunshine-bright fire just above my left hand, then made it drift toward him.

  As the tiny sunball came within a couple of feet of him, he felt its heat and his eyes got even bigger. Expanding the sunball to about the size of a baseball, I let it settle over the hood ornament on the Caddy.

  Smoke from burning paint and plastic rose instantly as I said, "If you guys don't want to walk home, you'll haul ass before that burns through to the engine."

  By then the others -- including the one Roberta had kicked -- were on their feet and backing away from us. One turned and ran from the scene as the driver screamed about the damage to his car and hurried to get back in and get it away from the ball.

  As he reached for the gear shift, I let the sunball dissipate and the guy screeched again at the small crater in the hood of his car, but he took the opportunity to slam the car into drive and burn rubber through another U-turn and away from us.

  One guy barely managed to get most of himself into the car as it started moving and accelerated. They blew past the running guy over a block away without stopping for him.

  When I turned around, I saw that everyone but Sue and me had their stun wands out. All of them were looking at me.

  Mark Saunder stared at me and quietly, intently asked, "What-the-fuck-was-that?!"

  Meeting his gaze, I said, "A teaching tool. Maybe they learned some manners today." Gesturing ahead, I said, "The light's green. Let's go eat," and started walking as I whispered, "Five suit off."

  Sue and I were a third of the way across the street before the others got moving and hurried to catch up. Roberta seemed a little pissed about something, so I asked what was wrong.

  "I could have handled them," she snapped as we reached the other sidewalk.

  Shrugging, I replied, "I know that. You had a stun wand."

  "So why did you jump in with that... that thing?"

  "They pissed me off, too, y'know. Now drop it."

  Moving to grab my arm, she glaringly said, "You don't give me orders." Nodding at Deanna, she added, "That's her job."

 
; Stopping, I pried her fingers off my arm and said, "Yeah, fine. Next time you get to zap all the bad guys. Now get off my ass about it."

  Deanna touched Roberta's shoulder and quietly said, "He was just helping out. Let's go to dinner."

  Roberta seemed to have more to say to me, but she remained seethingly silent as we all started walking again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Typical of a town like D.C. at half past five, the restaurant's bar was packed, but there were half a dozen dining tables open. A hostess led us to one of them and hovered to take our drink orders before leaving us to look through our menus.

  I set my coffee mug on the table, but put my hand over it as the waitress reached for it and said, "I'll get you a refill."

  "No, thanks. I'll be drinking a beer with dinner."

  Roberta had calmed down considerably after a whispered conversation with Deanna on the sidewalk. She still looked a bit tense, but she didn't seem pissed off at me anymore.

  Mark Saunder abruptly said, "If you can do something like that fireball in the street, it can't be classified. What was it?"

  "It was a field effect, Mark. I have a prototype PFM."

  "What else can it do?"

  "Stuns. Stuff like a warehouse model does."

  He waited until the waitress had put our drinks down, taken our orders, and left us before he asked, "Can I see it?"

  Sipping my gin and bitter lemon, I glanced at Sue. Through my implant, she said, "Look at your left forearm."

  I felt something clasp around my arm and slid my jacket sleeve back to show them the silvery field on my arm.

  "That wasn't there before," said Mark.

  "Are you sure about that?"

  "I am," said Roberta, "Absolutely sure. Your sleeves were up and your arms were bare. Not even a wristwatch."

  "Three suit on," I said loudly enough to be heard.

  They displayed all the usual shock and surprise when I disappeared.

  I turned off my three suit, reappeared, and pushed my sleeve down as I asked, "Are you still absolutely sure?"

  There was silence around the table. Deanna eyed me somewhat intently for a time as she sipped her drink, then she spoke quietly.

  "Linda gave me the impression that you might turn down our invitation."