3rd World Products, Inc., Book 5

by Ed Howdershelt

  "Hi," I said, "Is Gladstone in, or did they go to the lab?"

  "Uh..." the woman began, her eyes returning to Tiger, "Ah, they're back from the lab."

  "That's Tiger," I told her. "He talks through his collar."

  Her eyes flicked again, this time to focus on the silvery band on Tiger's neck.

  "Hello," said Tiger, craning forward a bit.

  The woman's eyes narrowed slightly further as she muttered, "Uh... hello."

  "You could try petting him," I suggested. "Or not, if you're afraid of him."

  Sitting straight, the woman rankled as she said, "I'm not afraid of cats. I like cats," and reached tentatively to pet Tiger. He leaned into her hand and sat down for more, coincidentally directly in front of the nameplate on her desk.

  After a moment, she asked, "Is 'hello' all he says?"

  Tiger said, "No. I say many things."

  "Yes, he does," I agreed, "More so than usual today, in fact. Getting out of the house must agree with him."

  The woman looked at Sue and pointedly said, "You don't seem to have a visitor's badge."

  Glancing at me with a small grin, Sue replied, "That's because they haven't figured out how to make one that will stay attached to me when I do this," then she vanished.

  Blinking at the empty space beside me for an instant, the woman switched her gaze to me and said softly, "Oh, my. Now I know who you are."

  Sue's chuckle came from the air beside me.

  I said, "Well, there's the proof of an old saying, milady. We're known by the company we keep."

  Reappearing, Sue laughed, "Apparently so," then asked the secretary, "May we go in?"

  "Uh... just a moment. I'll buzz her."

  She did so and Gladstone replied, "Send them in, Maggie."

  A target chime sounded faintly as Sue and I entered Gladstone's office; I spotted the four-inch brushed-metal box that was the target on Gladstone's desk.

  Joan and Wexler sat on the couch behind Rhonda and Gladstone at the other end of the office.

  The box chimed gently again as Rhonda pointed her wand at it and kind of grunted in a ladylike manner. I snickered softly and she snapped a sharp look at me.

  "Sorry," I said. "Sound effects don't help, you know."

  That got me a glare from Gladstone as Rhonda asked, "Do you think you could watch without cute comments?"

  "Woo. We're kinda tense today, aren't we, ma'am?"

  Rhonda opened her mouth to reply, then took a breath as she squared her shoulders, held it a moment, and let it out.

  "You're right," she said, "I was tense."

  "You're still tense, but don't sweat it. People get that way with new stuff. How's your score?"

  When Rhonda passed the question to her with a look, Gladstone said, "She's up to about twenty percent. Not bad at all for someone who just picked up her first wand, I'd say. How well can you do with yours, Ed?"

  Grinning at Rhonda, I said, "I could probably stun a cow."

  Gladstone seemed ready to take offense if Rhonda didn't, then Rhonda said, "He didn't mean me, Pat. Back at the restaurant, he stunned a cow in the field next door."

  Still looking somewhat miffed, Gladstone huffed, "Oh. I see. Well, in that case -- having established yourself as something of a master -- maybe you'd care to show us how it's done? Perhaps even give us something to strive for?"

  I asked, "You want me to use full power, huh?"

  "Oh, sure!" she said with a little smile. "Give it your best."

  Aiming my wand at the target box, I keyed my implant and sent a stun blast from both the wand and my implant. The box's bitter shriek ended abruptly as it flew off the desk and slammed into the backrest of Gladstone's swivel chair.

  The box fell to the chair's seat and bounced onto the floor, where it rattled to a stop by the corner of the desk. I leaned to pick it up and set it back on the desk, then sent a small stun burst at it. It remained silent.

  "I think it's broken," I said, turning to face the others.

  "Not broken," said Sue. "Some of the circuits are melted."

  Everybody except Sue was staring at me. Wexler muttered a soft, "Damn!" and looked incredulously at Joan as Gladstone's expression morphed from shock to dismay.

  "Sorry," I said, "You told me to give it my best."

  Gladstone stepped forward and picked up the target box. She pried the back off and her nose wrinkled at the smell of charred circuitry as she examined the interior.

  "That wasn't possible," she muttered.

  "Uhm. Well, apparently it was," said Rhonda.

  Taking my wand from my hand, Gladstone examined it for some moments, then peeringly looked at me as she asked, "What the hell have you done to your wand?"

  I shrugged. "Nothing. It's factory issue."

  "Would you mind if I have the lab confirm that?"

  "Nah. Go ahead and call me a liar. I don't mind."

  Stiffening, Gladstone said, "That's not what I meant."

  "Oh, of course not, ma'am."

  Slightly glaring at me, Gladstone marched to a cabinet and produced another target box and a plastic tube that contained a brand new wand. She set the box on her desk and handed me the plastic tube.

  "Let's just see if you can do it again with this wand," she said, meeting my gaze with her glare. "And I expect to see the same results."

  I slid the wand out of its container and felt a slight tingle through my implant as the wand keyed itself to me. Aiming it at the target box, I repeated my previous performance.

  The target again screamed and slid off the desk, but stayed on the chair seat this time. Gladstone grabbed the wand out of my hand, went to pick up the box and open it and peered inside as she sniffed. Her nose wrinkled again.

  She closed the box, set it on the desk, and looked at me for some moments, then went to the cabinet and took out a third target box, which she handed to Rhonda.

  "It's my last one," she said. "Practice until you can register at least sixty percent on it and don't let him shoot at it."

  "Not a chance," said Rhonda, giving me a meaningful look.

  Gladstone slid the new wand back in its holder and set it on her desk by the target boxes. She seemed thoughtful for a moment as she studied the items, then turned to me.

  "Okay. I believe you. Now run these people wherever they need to go so I can close up shop for the day."

  Snapping her a two-finger salute, I responded, "Aye, aye, ma'am. By your command, milady," and scooped up Tiger.

  "Sarcasm isn't necessary," she said.

  "It wasn't sarcasm," I said, "Just a bit of humor. Relax, lady, those gadgets won't come out of your pay."

  Turning to the others, I said, "Saddle up. We'll be outside," and headed for the door with Sue and Tiger.

  In the corridor I heard quick footsteps and looked back to see Rhonda trotting to catch up with us. She fell into step with us and handed her visitor's badge to the guard, who had her sign out as we waited for her.

  Once we were outside, she said, "I'd like you to train me."

  "You won't need it. Twenty percent in an hour or less is pretty damned good progress."

  As I handed her aboard the flitter, she asked, "But will it stop a big guy who's stoked on drugs?"

  "No, but you'll be up to around sixty percent in a day or so of practice, and that'll stop him. Don't sweat it."

  Joan and Dick weren't long in joining us aboard the flitter. I told the flitter to take us back to the restaurant once everyone was seated, then changed my mind.

  "No, flitter," I said, "New plan. Joan is particularly fond of flitters, so let's take a real ride. Circle the city of Carrington at a distance of five miles and a height of five miles until further notice. Stay subsonic, please."

  Opening the cooler, I took out a beer and opened it, then handed it to Rhonda. She took it rather numbly as she stared at the ice and drinks that seemed suspended in the air.

  "It's a field effect," I said. "It bends light around the cooler and keeps heat out."


  She reached to touch the cooler's lid as Joan opted for a can of tea and Dick took a beer. I opened a beer of my own and sat back with Tiger on my lap and my feet on the console, then keyed up the latest dance remix of "Long Train Running" and set the volume at four, which rattled the ice in the cooler.

  Nobody spoke for a time, then Joan asked, "Ed, are you upset about something? Pat's reaction was a natural one after seeing something like that."

  Shrugging, I said, "Nope. I'm not pissed." Looking at Rhonda, I said, "I was just thinking about how cops could use something else that'll be available soon. It's called a PFM."

  "I've heard of those," said Joan. "They're something you stick on your arm, right?"

  "Your arm, your leg, wherever else you want to stick it." Grinning at her around a sip of beer, I added, "As long as it can hear voice commands, that is."

  Remarks like that are tests. I waited to see how she'd take it, and didn't have to wait long at all.

  She grinned back and glanced at Rhonda as she said, "As long as they're concealable for undercover work. What all can PFMs do?"

  "The manufacturer is still deciding about which features to offer, to whom, and when to offer them. My PFM can generate a defensive field that'll stop or redirect a low-caliber bullet. It'll also generate a paraglider or a hang glider." Grinning at Sue, I added, "Or a change of clothes."

  I called up the suit-mask I'd worn in Washington. Tiger's ears went back as the material under him changed. He sniffed at my suit jacket dubiously, but said nothing.

  The expression on Rhonda's face became a mix of mild disbelief and astonishment as she reached to touch the "cloth" of my jacket, then pinch-rubbed the lapel.

  "Are you serious?!" Rhonda hissed excitedly, "A paraglider?!"

  Her hand fell away from my "jacket". I turned off the suit-mask as I glanced past her at Joan and Dick. Rhonda had been looking at my outfit, but Wexler had been looking over the side at the city.

  Sipping my beer, I said, "I'd have thought a cop would be more interested in PFM defensive capabilites."

  "Ha!" she laughed explosively, then she reached into her blouse, a move that took me completely by surprise.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Rhonda grinned and produced a small silver pendant on a black silken cord. I recognized the crescent-shaped sliver of stainless steel as a parachute closing pin.

  Grinning back at her, I mimed pulling a D-ring and laughingly said, "Well, Geron-i-mo, ma'am!"

  With a laugh of her own, she replied, "You got it. Defensive capabilities are definitely interesting to me, but I used to be a rabid jumper. Out here -- outside the military, I mean -- it's an expensive sport and my career schedule as a cop hasn't really been very flexible for the last year or so."

  Tipping my beer to her, I said, "My sympathies. Until last year, I'd almost forgotten what it was like to hang glide. Then I ended up with a prototype PFM and got back into flying."

  "Prototype?" she asked.

  "Yup. As in 'the very first one ever made'. We haven't had any problems with any of the prototypes, so PFMs should be available to the public soon."

  She glanced at the others with a grin before saying, "We have about two hours of daylight left. Are you gonna demonstrate your glider for us?"

  "I could do that. Flitter, suspend us above the restaurant where we picked these people up, please."

  We changed course instantly and perhaps three seconds passed before the flitter said, "We have arrived at your designated location."

  "Thanks, flitter."

  I stood up and looked over the side, set Tiger on my seat, swilled the last of my beer, and tossed the bottle. It flashed to oblivion at the flitter's field perimeter and someone behind me screeched as I called up my five suit.

  "See everybody later," I said, then stepped off the deck.

  Someone screamed, of course. I heard the beginnings of it before I was out of range.

  "Ed," Sue said through my implant, "Tiger just followed you. Should I retrieve him?"

  "Not yet," I said, rolling so I could look up at the flitter, "Let him think about what he's done for a little while. Let's see how he handles it. Does he have a paraglider?"

  "He acquired one the moment he jumped and he'll have to use it. I've adjusted his PFM to open his hang glider only under appropriate conditions."

  "Good going, milady. Even if it was safe to open it, it would take him a hell of a lot longer to find the ground from way up here with a hang glider."

  Apparently Tiger had decided he'd fallen far enough. His triangular field glider appeared as a green speck above me, then rapidly seemed to grow smaller as our distance increased.

  I called up my paraglider so he'd see me and let my fall slow enough to open my hang glider, then began circling. It wasn't long before Tiger plummeted past me with a yowl, then his paraglider opened. Moments later, he called up his kite.

  Switching back to my paraglider, I descended to his altitude, then changed back to my hang glider and guided it close to his.

  "Hi, Tiger! Howzit going?"

  As he yowled at me, his translator almost screamed, "You-not-tell-me-how-HIGH-UP!!"

  Laughing, I said, "Well, now you know, don't you?"

  "NOT FUNNY!! I made water!!"

  He'd peed? Good thing I hadn't been right below him.

  "Well, don't tell anybody else about that. Are you okay now, friend Tiger? Not scared now?"

  After a moment's silence, he said, "No. Not scared now."

  He didn't sound altogether certain, but I said, "Good deal. Just do what I do until we're back on the ground, okay?"

  "Okay."

  My implant tingled and I felt the flitter take a position on our right as Sue said, "I see you managed to find each other."

  "Oh, yeah," I said. "No problem. How are the others handling things?"

  "Well enough, I suppose, now that they can see you two aren't falling to your dooms. In case you'd like to know, you're just over three miles up."

  Tiger asked, "What is a mile?"

  I asked, "Remember when we walked to Connie's house? How far it was?"

  "Yes."

  "That was about one block, Tiger. Ten blocks are a mile."

  "Ten?"

  He'd once learned to count to five as I'd pointed out the toes on his left foot.

  I said, "All of your toes on both front paws make ten."

  Sue said, "I'll help," and made a picture of the toes on one of Tiger's feet appear before him, saying, "That's five, Tiger."

  Adding another paw, she said, "Now ten," and adding four more paws, she said, "That's thirty blocks."

  Little Tiger's ears went back. He looked at me rather starkly and said, "That's VERY far. We are VERY high up!"

  "No problem. We're flying and Sue is here. We'll be fine."

  "Actually," said Sue, "There is a small problem. We're about to enter an air traffic region. For everyone's safety, I'm bringing you back aboard the flitter."

  With no further discussion, she fielded us back aboard the flitter and turned off our gliders. I was about to say something when a silver speck became visible somewhat north of us.

  The others noticed that I was staring past them and turned to look as the speck became a plane. Some moments later it passed almost directly below us closely enough that I could read the numbers on its tail.

  I quietly deleted what I had been about to say to Sue and instead said, "Thank you, milady. Getting sucked into a jet engine might be a bit more than my five suit could handle."

  She snickered and took a seat by the console.

  "You're welcome."

  Tiger had been placed on one of the outer seats. He watched the plane pass below and echoed my "Thank you," then hopped up to the dash and began washing.

  "Ed," said Joan. I looked at her and she bit her lip as she asked, "Do you have any idea how much you scared us all when you jumped? When your cat followed you?"

  "His name is Tiger."

  "Yes," said Tiger. "I am Tiger."


  She glanced his direction with a slight, quick nod, then turned back to me.

  I asked, "Are you still scared?"

  "Uh, well, no, but..."

  "Then forget it. Flitter, take us to the restaurant, please."

  Joan stepped somewhat in front of me as I moved to a seat and said, "You knew how we'd react. That wasn't very nice."

  "You want an apology? No problem. I keep a few spares in the glove box just for times like this."

  She made no response as I sat down, instead staring beyond me at the uprushing ground as she locked onto the back of a seat and made a small keening sound. Dick had also taken a grip on a seat, and except for making no sound at all, he looked equally shocked by our descent.

  The downblast of air created by our arrival kicked up a fairly large cloud of dust, but it settled so quickly that I suspected Sue had done something about it with a field.

  A man who'd been facing the restaurant's doors spun around and nearly drew a gun, then reclosed his holster strap and stood watching the flitter. I noted a red and white 'Sorry, we're closed' sign on the doors.

  "That's Detective Calvin," said Rhonda, apparently speaking to herself. "He got off at five. Why the hell is he here?"

  Through my implant, Sue said, "According to message logs, he came here when he went off duty. It would appear that he's been waiting for her."

  I nodded slightly and glanced at Rhonda as I said, "Well, the restaurant's closed. If he's off duty and he isn't married, how many other reasons could he have for being here?"

  She caught my gaze and sat a little straighter, then stood up and said, "There's nothing between us."

  Shrugging, I answered, "Wouldn't matter to me, but are you sure? I don't see any other cops waiting for you."

  "We don't know that he's waiting for me."

  Grinning slightly, I replied, "I think he is," and turned to Sue. "What do you think? Is he waiting for her?"

  Lifting an eyebrow, Sue smiled and said, "It would certainly seem so. I suppose we could ask him."

  With a droll expression, Rhonda said, "That won't be necessary. As far as I'm concerned, he's only here to give me a ride back to the station."

  Giving her an appraising look, I said, "Uh, huh. Well, unless there's something seriously wrong with him, he'd be damned disappointed to hear that. You're kinda cute, y'know."