There was a bit of commotion on the passenger side as the shooter tried to get himself and his big rifle up and out the window to aim at me. My first two shots from the .22 were aimed at the driver. I didn't know if I'd hit him or not and didn't really care. Both of them ducked and I ran to flatten in a drainage ditch.
The car suddenly surged forward across all four lanes of Northcliffe and skidded to a halt on the other side of the intersection. I could hear the driver screaming, “Shoot him! Shoot him!” as the sniper tried to bring his rifle to bear on me. From this angle my ditch wasn't any protection.
They weren't working well together. The driver must have thought it would help to put the sniper on my side of the car.
I got up and began walking toward the car as the driver frantically cut the wheels to turn in my direction. The sniper was screaming directions at him and trying to hang on and stay with the car.
I fired once at the driver again. The shot served to make him understeer as he ducked. He dropped the right front wheel into the drainage ditch and a driveway culvert abruptly halted that wheel.
Hitting the concrete culvert jarred the shooter and the rifle out of the car window and onto the ground. I heard a loud snap as he landed. He shook his head to clear it, saw me approaching from the corner, and tried to bring the rifle up. His left arm wasn't working right and I was only about sixty feet away when he sat down and tried to aim the rifle at me across his knees.
My first round hit his right shoulder near where it met his neck, round two hit his left knee, and round three snapped into his right wrist and forearm. The guy went rigid with shock, then screamed.
The driver of the car sat unnaturally still until I was only a few feet from the shooter. Predictably, his hand came up with a semi-auto pistol and he stretched across the passenger seat to aim it at me through the passenger-side window.
I put two rounds through that window and into his upper chest before he could pull the trigger. He seemed absolutely shocked at this turn of events and tried to look down to see his wounds. When he looked up at me again his face was contorted as he tried again to aim at me.
I put my last round in his face and switched the .22 to my left hand so I could pull the .357 out of my belt.
The guy with the rifle either wasn't a quitter or he was sure that I intended to kill him. Either way, he was struggling against pain and body parts that weren't working right to aim that godzilla rifle at me again. I stepped over quickly and swatted him in the head with the .357, then took the rifle out of his hands.
I heard sirens as I picked up his rifle. It was a Weatherby Mark V with one of those big scopes on top. I was suitably impressed. The damned things sold for around eight hundred bucks the last time I saw one in the mid-eighties.
This one was a .22-250 caliber. There'd be damned little left of a bullet from that gun if it hit anything more solid than flesh. If it hit bone it would pretty much disintegrate on impact. Nasty.
When the cops arrived they found me standing over the sniper with my empty .22. I'd put my .357 back in my belt and let the rifle fall a few feet from the sniper as we waited for them. He seemed to think that was an odd thing to do. When he looked at the rifle I invited him to go for it. He didn't.
An hour or so later, Linda was in my face in an office she'd commandeered for the purpose of screaming at me more or less privately.
"You had a goddamned stunner, Ed. Why didn't you use it?"
"Does it work through windshields? Will it do anything at eighty feet?"
She didn't know, but she wouldn't admit it. Instead, she switched subjects.
"Why the hell did you leave the house at all? Why didn't you let Elkor track them for the cops?"
"Go look where his bullets hit my car. Hold that big-assed rifle he used. Think about what his first round could have done if he'd hit me. Think about how your own forehead would look through that scope and then ask me that again."
Linda glared at me for some seconds, then marched out of the room. She said something to someone at one of the desks and headed for the front door at a march. People got out of her way quickly and without comment.
Gary came over to me and told me we could leave. We stopped to pick up my .22 at somebody's desk and my personal effects at somebody else's desk, then headed for the door. The reflection of the room showed me that everyone was staring at us. I stopped and looked more closely at the reflected faces.
Gary looked out the doors, then back at me, and asked, “What's wrong, Ed?"
"Pretend to see something in the parking lot and check out the reflection in the glass instead. I'd say my days of quiet anonymity are over in Spring Hill."
After a moment, Gary said, “I think you may be right."
Neither Linda nor Gary had told me that Ellen had spent the time I'd been at the station packing her stuff. She was finished when we arrived at the house. I looked at her as we entered, but she refused to acknowledge me and picked up two of her bags to carry them to the car.
Gary and I followed her with the other bags and installed them in the back seat and trunk as Ellen opened the car door and got in. Whether she left the door open to allow a breeze through the car or to invite me to say something to her before she left, I don't know. I couldn't think of anything to say that would make her feel any better, so I said nothing until Gary was in the driver's seat.
All I said was, “Is this the kind of goodbye you want, Ellen? Our needs don't match. It isn't your fault or mine. It's just who and what we are."
Ellen didn't look up from the dashboard.
Gary said, “You promised me a fishing trip, Ed. Later, okay?"
I hadn't promised him a damned thing that I could remember, but it didn't sound like a bad idea, and he obviously didn't want me to think he was taking a side in the matter by driving her, so I went along with it.
"Sure. Holler when ready. Bring Ellen if she wants to come along."
"Will do,” he said.
We shook hands and he started the car. As they began backing out of the driveway Ellen looked up and stared at me briefly, then said something to Gary. The car stopped and Ellen got out. She walked up to me and gazed at me for a moment before embracing me and kissing me as heartily as I've ever been kissed.
"You remember my face,” she said. “My body. This last kiss. You remember me, Ed, and I hope you hurt inside every time you do the way I'm hurting now. All I wanted is what every woman wants. My mistake was wanting it with you."
I did as she said. I kept my mouth shut and tried to memorize her as she stood there and she allowed me to do so for a few moments before turning without another word and marching to the car.
I waved at Gary and tapped my watch. He nodded understanding as Ellen got in and closed the door. A few moments later they were gone.
When I called a friend at a local parts yard, he gave me a fair price on a replacement windshield and said that for an extra thirty bucks he'd send a couple of guys over to take care of it in my driveway. I agreed.
I sat on the couch with a beer and a Bear. He knew what packed bags had meant and he was in need of consolation. Correction: we were in need of consolation. I wasn't very happy at that moment, either.
"Hey, Elkor. You by the channel?"
"By the what?"
"Never mind. Old CB radio jargon for 'are you listening'? I just wondered where they're going to put Ellen."
"I'm not at liberty to say."
I swilled my beer and squashed the can, then tossed it into the trash can by the computer desk across the room. I leaned my head back on the couch and sat silently staring at the ceiling and patting Bear for a few moments.
"Never, ever say that to me again, Elkor. I'll even add 'please', but I mean it. I'll stop talking to you except as absolutely necessary if you ever say it again."
"But..."
"No. Never. You can say 'please ask Linda', but don't give me the 'not at liberty' crap. I've heard it too often in my life, and almost always about the wrong damned t
hings from the wrong damned stuffed-shirt people."
"Are there any other phrases you'd prefer not to hear?"
"Oh, yes. Definitely. I'll let you know as I think of them. Have you made contact with porpoises yet?"
Elkor's voice was a conversational male voice, not a flat or tinny monotone like they used to use in the movies. It had always been well modulated and very normal-sounding, but at that moment I seemed to detect a slight change.
"Yes, Ed. I've been in contact with a pod that seems to have been trying to figure out what the ball in the sky is. When I told them..."
"You told them? You mean you really talk with them?"
"Yes, Ed. When I told them that the ball was actually a ship and that I was a part of that ship they were very excited."
"You sound a little excited yourself, Elkor."
"I do? I'm not sure that's possible, Ed."
"That's okay. I am. How did you contact the dolphins?"
"They aren't actually dolphins. Dolphins are..."
"I know what dolphins are, but people use both names for porpoises. No sweat, go ahead with your story."
Elkor flashed the wall and displayed a drone that morphed from an ellipsoid into a ball. Two layers of something were added to the ball on display as Elkor described how he padded the ball without losing good visibility or sound quality. He then showed the ball floating on the surface and the porpoises using it in some kind of game that involved pushing it around and tossing it to each other.
Elkor said, “This is how I met them. Once I was able to make some sense of what they were saying, I spoke to them through the ball. They were very leery of me at first, just as Bear was, but I persisted."
Could a computer feel pride? It certainly sounded that way.
"I'll bet they were leery. Good going, Elkor. What do porpoises talk about?"
"Food, mostly. Finding it, catching it, and not becoming it. Those are their words, by the way. They also wonder about their environment and have a kind of ancestor-based mythology that hinges on one female long ago."
I laughed. “The great Earth-mother. Or what? Water-mother?"
"That's close. They believe the creator of Earth was a female porpoise who still swims among them in the person of every female porpoise."
"A mother goddess and reflections of her. That's very similar to several human religions, so far."
"Indeed so. Do you believe in such things, Ed?"
"Religions require too much blind faith to suit me. If there's a goddess and she wants to meet me someday, then so be it. If not, well, that's okay, too."
"I know who created me, Ed. I can't figure out who created them, though, or if they were, indeed, specifically created, as they seem to believe."
"Don't sweat it. Your creators haven't figured that out yet, either. Anyone who claims to know the mind of any god is full of shit, Elkor, and that's gospel. They only know what they want to believe for whatever reasons."
My phone rang. It was Sharon, asking about Ellen and all the activity on Northcliffe that she'd just heard about. I told her that they'd caught a sniper and that everybody was fine and let it go at that.
No sooner was Sharon off the phone than my watch beeped.
I said, “Yes? ‘tis me, of course. Speak, Oh Magic Wristwatch."
Linda said, “Hey, there, Dragonfly. Gary and Ellen just arrived. I just called to see how you were getting along."
"I'm down a bit, but I guess I'm fine enough unless telling you a tale of deep sadness and woe will get you to come over here and comfort me properly."
She laughed. “Save it for Thursday. Maybe I'll comfort you or maybe I'll just send you someplace really hairy to get your mind off her."
"I can always count on you to help me out somehow, right?"
"Sure. How would you like to go to northeastern Iraq for a couple of weeks? All expenses paid. We'll even spring for the ammo."
"No, thanks, lady. I'll sit here and pine away to nothing before I go over there again. Besides, I don't think they've lifted my sentence yet."
"They haven't. I really was going to mention that and advise caution, you know. Maybe I can find somewhere else, then."
"I might be able to find some consolation if I wrapped myself around your legs like a wet towel and spent a few hours marveling at your capacity for pleasure, ma'am. Have you considered that possibility?"
"Today in particular? Only a few times. We should wait a decent interval, though. You can decide what that would be and let me know."
"Well, let me just check my fancy watch's calendar here. Hmm ... Thursday looks good."
"Uh, huh. We'll see. Is there anything else?"
I laughed. “You called me, lady. Do you have anything else?"
"Just checking. I'm here if you need me, Dragonfly. See ya."
"Thanks, Fearless Leader. See ya."
Linda had undoubtedly heard my exchange with Elkor, yet she'd volunteered no information about Ellen. She had also addressed me only as Dragonfly immediately and throughout the conversation, meaning that she was telling me not to get too relaxed and comfortable in my broken-hearted misery.
My reference to my fancy watch told her that I understood not to say anything meaningful for the moment, and Linda knew how I really felt about messing around while I was working under her. That was just filler banter for anyone else who might be listening.
Linda was on to something or thought she might be. She had confirmed that she could and would make it to our almost-routine Thursday visit to the beach and put me on general alert in the meantime, which meant that I should make no plans that couldn't be broken.
The windshield guys arrived and I went out to watch them work. One of the guys remarked that the damage looked like a bullet hole and I said, “Yeah, that's what the cops said, too."
The other guy wanted to look for the bullet. I let him root around as the other guy vacuumed the dash and seats. No bullet was found and less than twenty minutes later there was a new windshield on my Malibu.
As I walked back into the house, Elkor asked, “Shall I continue, or would you rather I put my porpoise findings into your pad?"
"Sure. The pad, too, Elkor, but boil it down for me now, will you? Give me the highlights of your time with them. I've always had an interest in them."
"They seem to concern themselves with food, safety, pleasures, reproductive activities, and personal and group interaction."
"Damn. When you boil something down, you don't screw around, do you? So far they sound a lot like people, but it could be that things like that are all that any life forms really think about if they can think at all."
"It would seem so."
"You don't seem too happy to hear it, Elkor. Does it take some of the fascination out of studying them?"
"It would seem to imply that there is little unique about them or—in an expanded view—any life form, sentient or not."
"Only in that respect, I think. How they go about things can be entertaining, so I'd proceed on the assumption that there's more to be known. Elkor, how high will Stephanie fly?"
"My calculations indicate a maximum altitude of 824 miles."
"Calculations? Nobody's ever tried it?"
"There has been no reason to do so."
I got off the couch and grabbed my coffee mug.
"Does that mean she can achieve an orbit, Elkor, or does it just mean she can hold herself off the ground?"
"She can't reach orbital velocity. At that height, she wouldn't be able to remain in place over a location on the surface, either. You'd return to the surface well to the west of your starting point."
"Thought so. Can I talk to Stephanie through the watch?"
"One moment. You can now, Ed."
"Thanks, Elkor. Linda?"
"I'm here, Ed."
"Wanna ride along? I'm taking Stephanie for a hard run."
"Give me fifteen to clear the decks. I can spare a couple of hours."
"Ah, ha. Just like all the others. A fancy car mak
es you forget all about waiting for Thursdays. Stephanie?"
"Yes, Ed."
"Linda will approach you shortly. Let her aboard, then meet me at the trailer, please. We're going to see how high you can fly."
"Yes, Ed."
Chapter Twenty-Two
I packed a cooler with snackies and drinks, then grabbed my binoculars, my big sleeping bag, and a couple of pillows. Bear wasn't happy and said so.
Elkor said, “Bear is upset because you seem to be putting bags by the door."
"Figured that. I'm taking him along. Can you tell him that?"
"I don't know. I'll try."
Bear heard Elkor's efforts coming from the watch. His ears went back, then came up again. He looked at the stuff by the door, sat down, and sounded off.
"He doesn't seem convinced, Ed."
"Tough. I'll put this stuff in the car and come back for him."
More sounds came from the watch. Bear remained obviously skeptical. I patted him and told him to stand by, then carted the stuff to the car.
When he saw me putting his travel kit together he went to sit by his carrier. When I unlatched the door he quickly slipped into the carrier and turned around. I patted him and closed the door, then carried everything to the car.
As we approached, the trailer door opened and the guard stepped out onto the small wooden porch. He'd never seen my Malibu, so until I pulled up in the parking area behind the trailer he wore his 'unenthusiastic-about-visitors' face. When I stepped out of the car, he recognized me and smiled.
"Hey, Ed. Where'd you get this relic?"
"Everybody asks me something like that, Bill. I never tell them ‘cause I don't want them to rush right out and get one of their own. That would ruin the uniqueness, don't you think?"
Bear heard the guard's voice and yelled. The guard looked in the window and grinningly said, “Hey, Bear! Howzitgoin', little guy?"
Bill turned to me and offered to help, but I told him we could wait until Linda arrived. I lifted Bear's carrier out of the car to take it into the trailer.
Ten minutes or so later I felt a presence outside and said, “She's here."
Book 1: 3rd World Products, Inc. Page 24