Book 1: 3rd World Products, Inc.

by Ed Howdershelt

  "Well, if it turns out that there isn't, you'll at least save me for yourself, won't you?"

  "Oh, of course. Certainly."

  "Kewl. Want your watch back now? We should really be getting ready for company, just in case I'm not completely fired and forgotten."

  Ellen handed me the keys to open the trunk. As the lid came up, we could hear Gary saying, “Ellen? Is that you?"

  She picked up the watch and said, “It's me. He didn't tell me anything useful."

  Gary started to say something about never taking off the watch and Ellen put her hand over it as she grinned at me.

  "I never liked having to wear one of these,” she said.

  "I can see why. No privacy at all."

  We drove back to the house. I took a shower, then put three steaks on the outdoor grill while Ellen showered. Ellen was still inside the house and the steaks were almost done when Gary sped around the corner and into the driveway.

  He looked angry as he marched up to me. I pointed the tines of a long-handled fork at him and he warily stopped a couple of feet away from me.

  I said, “Take it easy. She's inside. So are the plates. Stir up the salad to move the Italian dressing around and put some on three plates, then bring me the platter out of the dishwasher. The steaks ought to be about done by then."

  He started to say something, but Ellen appeared at the screen door in a terrycloth robe with her hair wrapped in a towel.

  "Hi, Gary. Why are you so early?"

  "I was ... worried about you."

  Ellen looked puzzled. “Why? I've had the watch on all this time. You could hear everything that was happening or being said."

  As I turned the steaks over, I said, “He wasn't so much worried about you as pissed off at me. Get the plates ready if you're going to have a steak with us, Gary, but bring out the platter first. I think they're about done now."

  Gary glared at me briefly, but Ellen opened the screen door for him and told him everything was on the kitchen table. He gave up and went inside.

  During dinner Gary was grinning as he asked, “Well, Ed, are you satisfied? You were able to talk to Clark and he confirmed that everything was real."

  I reached for more salad and said, “He only confirmed that he thinks so."

  Gary glanced at Ellen, who shrugged and kept eating her salad.

  When he looked back at me, I said, “I'll let you know when I think so."

  Gary looked exasperated as he said, “Now you're just being difficult."

  "Damned right I'm being difficult. Leave it at that for now."

  A car pulled up outside. I looked through the kitchen window and saw two people, a man and a woman, approaching the house.

  "A man and woman coming. If they aren't yours, they're probably Clark's."

  Ellen looked at Gary, who said, “They shouldn't be ours."

  I grinned at them. “Then these two really hauled ass to get here, didn't they? The nearest office is in Tampa."

  I answered the door as the guy was about to knock. He'd opened the screen door to do so and we stood face to face about a foot apart.

  "We gave at the office,” I said.

  "Cute,” said the woman, very obviously unimpressed.

  She identified herself as agent Hellman and her buddy as agent Benderson and flashed her ID. It said she was part of Clark's agency.

  I guessed her age and said, “Twenty-six."

  "What?"

  "Wrong answer. Call your boss and get the right one."

  The guy put his hand on the door and said, “We need to speak with you, sir."

  "When you have the right number, we'll talk. Hands off the door."

  "Look,” said the woman, “This is important..."

  "Then make the call and get the number."

  I closed the front door on the guy's protests and heard quiet swearing coming from the outside. The guy was pissed. The woman seemed to be speaking to someone else. A few moments later the doorbell rang again.

  I smiled at Gary and Ellen, yanked open the front door, and cheerfully asked, “Twenty-six?"

  The woman glared at me and carefully enunciated, “Twenty-four."

  Her teeth never parted as she spoke. Her lips barely moved.

  "Damn, lady. You do a helluva Clint Eastwood impression."

  Her partner snorted and tried to keep a straight face.

  "But you don't,” I told him. “Okay. We'll talk. What do you want?"

  The woman slumped in exasperation and said, “Well, Duh! What do you think? We'd like to come in out of the sun and talk with you about continuing to work with our agency. Enough games. You already know who sent us."

  "Yeah, I know who sent you. I also know that if I let you in you'll anchor yourselves like a pair of Jehovah's Witnesses and I'll play hell getting you out."

  The guy asked, “What's it going to take to keep you involved? That's what all this is really about, isn't it? Money? How much do you want?"

  I just looked at him for a moment and closed the front door again. This time they didn't swear quietly. He opened the screen and pounded on the front door.

  "Open this goddamned door!"

  "No. Get lost."

  He pounded again. I walked to the kitchen and took the portable phone from the wall before sitting down to my salad. Gary and Ellen were aghast. Their faces reflected their shock at the way I was behaving. I ate salad and waited.

  When the phone rang, I said, “That will probably be Clark."

  I let it ring five times before picking it up and thumbing the 'talk' button.

  "Hello. You have reached..."

  Ellen giggled and Clark interrupted me.

  "Cut the crap, Ed. Why won't you talk to my people?"

  "What's to talk about, Clark? Didn't I quit two hours ago? And why would I talk to those two about it? They're barely old enough to vote."

  "Then talk to me about it. What's your problem?"

  "I don't have a problem, Clark. I quit before the job became one."

  I could almost envision Clark probing for an angle on things.

  "This isn't like you, Ed. You were never a quitter."

  "That luxury wasn't available back then. We were busy saving the world."

  "All right, dammit, what's it gonna take to get you back on board?"

  "I'll make a list, Clark. We'll start with Linda's new hard-assed attitudes. I don't work with or for dictators."

  "Is that all? When did you become so sensitive? I'll talk to her for you."

  "No, that isn't all. I still want to know why the hell anyone came to my door in the first place, Clark. That's the one question nobody's bothered to answer so far."

  "That I don't know, but I'll try to find out for you. Anything else?"

  "Yeah. I'm solo. That means I'm the AIC wherever I am and whatever I'm doing, just like the old days. No micromanagement crap from office people."

  Clark chuckled. “You want to be Agent in Charge, Ed? Ah ... You've been out of the business for quite a while, you know..."

  "If that mattered a damn Linda would have looked for someone else to use, which takes us back to why she picked me, doesn't it?"

  There was silence for a moment, then, softly, “Maybe she was just trying to do an old friend a favor, Ed."

  "Again, crap. Linda's turned into a tyrant, Clark, and we don't do personal favors in our line of work. I was first on a list of three possibles in this area."

  Clark chuckled. “Well, I bet you aren't at the top of her list now."

  "Of course I am. If I weren't, Ellen wouldn't still be here, Gary wouldn't be here, and I'd be undergoing a rather nasty debriefing with the usual updated Security Act forms and promises of dire consequences for talking. She's listening to every word we say right now and hoping you'll do the re-recruiting for her."

  "She has you bugged?"

  I glanced at Gary's watch and said, “Since the beginning of all this and without a doubt. I'm looking right at it."

  He paused briefly, then aske
d, “How do you know it's hers? There may be other players..."

  "Who? C'mon, Clark. Trust me a little or fire me. I know what I'm talking about, here. It's her bug."

  Clark chuckled again. “Wouldn't that mean she just heard you call her a dictator and a tyrant, Ed?"

  "It would. It would also mean that she knows I'm going to be AIC or gone."

  Gary's watch emitted an odd beep I hadn't heard before and I heard someone in the background in Clark's office. The phone was muffled for a moment, then Clark was back.

  "I have to take a call, Ed. I'll call you back in a few."

  "Okay.” I thumbed the 'talk' button again to turn off the phone.

  The doorbell rang. I went to open the door.

  The woman said, “We've been out here long enough, sir..."

  "You sure have. Go away. Your boss will call if he wants to talk to me."

  I closed the door again and went back to the table.

  I waved the phone at Gary. “That odd beep was a 'freeze' signal, wasn't it? None of us is to leave the house for any reason until you hear from Linda?"

  He and Ellen nodded.

  "Cool. I'll get Bear's stuff ready and wrap up one of the new stoneware angel baskets for Linda. She'll either love it or have something to throw at me."

  Ellen asked, “Angel basket?"

  "Yeah. From a turn-of-the-century Art Noveau design. The girl's wings form the handle and it holds about a pint of whatever. Candy, flowers, paperclips..."

  They watched me wrap the basket and write ‘Linda’ on a little gift-card.

  Ellen asked, “What if she calls back and says to drop you?"

  I grinned. “Well, I've already addressed the card, so I guess I'll have to go out and find myself a girl named Linda, won't I? Would you like one?"

  Ellen picked one up and examined it. She let it dangle from her fingers and watched the play of light reflecting from the glazed surface for a moment.

  "Yes, I would. How much are they?"

  I took her other hand and guided it to the bottom of the basket.

  "Twenty bucks to anyone else. It's yours. Just don't tell anyone how easy I am about these things. Here's a shipping box for it."

  Gary was smiling at Ellen's enjoyment. He said, “I thought we didn't do personal favors in our business."

  "Huh. You're just jealous ‘cause I didn't give you one, too. Want one?"

  He looked at the basket Ellen was holding up to the light and said, “Yes, but let me pay you. It's for someone else."

  "Ah. A native souvenir for the girl back home, huh? Good enough. Dunnit myself a few times. Here you go; one basket. Stand by one and I'll get you a box. How far does it have to go? Eighty light-years? We'd better pack it special. Hey, this could open up a whole new market for me, couldn't it?"

  Ellen giggled, then seemed thoughtful. “Actually, it could."

  "Kewl. I'll tell Sharon to ramp up for a little new business in the future."

  Gary was holding a twenty when I handed him his box. I told him I'd take it out of Ellen's six thousand, since it was all company money anyway. He shrugged and took the box with thanks, then said that if everything fell apart and I had to give the rent money back, he'd pay me for the basket anyway.

  I packed a few of my things in a backpack and readied Bear's stuff in another as we waited for Linda's callback, which wasn't long in coming. We were again sitting at the kitchen table when the odd beep sounded again and both of them touched their watches.

  Linda said, “Ed, I've talked to Clark and I've decided to talk with you in person before I make a decision about things. I can't go to you, so you'll have to come to me. Any objections?"

  "We'll saddle up now, Linda. See you shortly."

  "Okay, then. I'll have someone put some coffee on."

  Gary and Ellen stood up, but I waved them back down.

  "I'm going to hit the bathroom and make a call before we go and unplug my other computer before I forget. You've probably noticed the thunderstorms every day around here? Back in a minute, guys."

  I called Sharon and told her Bear and I would probably be back Tuesday or Wednesday. When she asked where I was going I told her I'd met a blonde who wanted me to see her place and that I didn't have the phone number there.

  While I was in the computer room I put my Taurus 85 revolver into its concealed-carry holster and slipped it inside my belt. I'd made a website for a gun shop and taken the stainless .357 in trade for my work. It only held 5 rounds, but they were big ones. I put a half-full box of ammo for it in my backpack.

  This may seem a drastic measure, but consider: I was about to take a ride at night with a couple of people I barely knew who claimed to be aliens and worked with or for some other people who were well-known for ruthlessness at times.

  Things could be as they seemed or not. I'd be as ready as possible either way, and the kind of people I'd be meeting were the kind who understood caution.

  I put my field jacket on and checked the hang of it over the gun, then went out to put Bear in his carrier and headed to the car with Gary and Ellen.

  When Ellen got in the front passenger seat, leaving me unescorted in the back seat, I wondered about what transport-training they might have had, if any.

  Just as Gary began to back the car out, I tested the back door by unlocking and opening it, then closing it quickly, and said something about a packstrap caught in the door to excuse the action. At least I wasn't locked in back there.

  Chapter Six

  Gary turned the Chevy west on a lime rock road about five miles north of Spring Hill and the ride turned into a dusty, bumpy excursion through the pine forest for the next ten minutes or so.

  Cats inside pet carriers don't like bumpy excursions. Bear couldn't see anything but the seat in front of him and started yelling in his semi-Siamese voice about his discontent. I turned his carrier to face me and talked to him as I reached into the carrier to pat him a few times and he quieted a bit.

  The drive ended in front of a big mobile home that had been parked across the road. A sign on the side said it was a portable forestry office and other signs nearby advised not to proceed further into the woods.

  Another car was parked to one side of the road and a man was coming out of the trailer and walking toward us. His uniform shirt and pants were those of the forestry service, but his black, low-quarter shoes and the Glock pistol on his belt didn't fit the picture. I figured he was probably in one of the militaries.

  His black dress socks wouldn't offer any ankle protection in the woods and this was Florida black bear country. They aren't the biggest of the bears, but they tend to be as tough and nasty as any other kind of bear.

  Anyone using a .9mm or .40 caliber against a bear would probably hear a few of the rounds ricochet off the bear's skull before the bear reached him. If he survived, he'd never go near the woods again with less than a .44 magnum.

  The guy noticed me noticing his shoes and gun and made no comment, but when he saw me bring Bear's carrier out of the car his eyebrows went up.

  "A cat?"

  "A cat. His name's Bear. And speaking of bears, you need a bigger gun."

  "This is what I've got and I'm good with it."

  "Good luck, then. I've met a couple of bears. That won't stop one unless you get real lucky."

  The guy apparently knew Gary and Ellen and talked with them as I got my bags out of the car. He then walked with us to the rear of the mobile office, which I discovered was actually a double-wide version.

  He pressed a button on a small remote control he took from his pocket and the wall of the back of the mobile office raised like an automatic window awning to reveal our next ride.

  The vehicle was about twenty feet long, ten feet wide and eight feet tall. It had no wheels and had a metallic body. To me it looked like an elongated, odd-shaped delivery van. Its blunt nose and bare-metal exterior made it look more like an almost seamless metal box than a means of transportation.

  Gary said something and
the entire canopy simply disappeared. Soft and apparently sourceless interior lighting illuminated a few rows of bucket-style seats, a pilot's seat, and a large empty area behind the last row of seats for cargo. Although there was an upright console-kiosk, I saw no yoke or joystick.

  Once we were aboard the canopy reappeared, but I could see through the other side of it to the far wall of the trailer. From the inside, the canopy was almost transparent with a slight, silvery tint.

  I looked for seat belts and found none as I set Bear's carrier into the middle seat in the first row and my backpacks into the seat beside him, then Gary took the pilot's seat and Ellen and I sat on either side of Bear.

  "No seat belts?” I asked.

  "Not necessary,” said Gary. “Try to get up."

  I didn't see what he did, if anything, but I couldn't so much as lift half an inch.

  "As you can see, we don't need seat belts,” he said.

  I was dubious, but both of them looked completely comfortable with matters.

  Gary swiveled his seat around and grinningly asked, “Well, what do you think of it? We call these 'flitters'. This one has been programmed to understand voice commands in several languages and all of them have manual controls, as well."

  He appeared to have to think a minute, then he continued, “They'll carry up to two tons of people or cargo. Top speed is about ... um ... Well, I don't know what that translates to, but I know they can go faster than Earth's fighter jets. A few years ago we were seen over Iraq and had to outrun their missiles to keep them from knowing that their missiles would have no effect on their target."

  I thought, 'This goddamned boxcar outran somebody's jets and missiles?'

  Gary patted the small console that rose before his seat and added, “I know what you're thinking. It looks as aerodynamic as a brick, doesn't it? A field effect shapes itself to the most aerodynamic form for the speed. These aren't as maneuverable as some of our other vehicles, but, then, they aren't meant to be."

  'Some things must be universal,' I thought. 'He sounds like every other guy I've ever heard bragging about his pickup truck.'

  I nodded and said, “As long as it gets the job done, right? I'll bet you prefer to fly it manually, too."