Book 2: 3rd World Products, Inc.

by Ed Howdershelt

  "Ah, hah. Well, that sounds like a downside of sorts. Let me ask this, then; have any of them asked to have the implants removed?"

  "Two of the subjects have opted for removal."

  "We'll try it, then. I'm only thinking of it as a way to create a distraction, like knocking something off a table to get someone's attention away from me for a moment. That's if I can get a handle on it at all. How many people have been unable to make their implants work, Elkor?"

  "The test group contained thirty-seven disabled people. Nine of them were able to make use of their implants to varying degrees."

  "Damn. That's it?"

  "Results have been disappointing."

  "No shit. Well, we'll try it anyway. If it doesn't work, we just won't tell anyone about it. See you in a while, guys. Gotta go see our Fearless Leader."

  I could have walked through the connecting hallway, but I heard something just on the other side of the wall near the dumpsters. Standing on a crate to look out the window didn't help. The angle was wrong, I guess. Couldn't see a damned thing but the dumpster, itself, and the concrete just beyond it, so I went outside.

  Where there are dumpsters, there will be rats. A big one stared back at me when I looked into the foot-wide space behind the dumpster. It was rummaging inside one of a couple of fast-food carryout bags that had evidently been poorly tossed. I had the distinct feeling that the rat was giving me the finger in some fashion as its stare became a defiant glare.

  The other bag moved. I thought it would likely be nothing more than another rummaging rat and almost turned to leave, but the sound that came from the bag was that of a kitten. The rat fixed its gaze on the bag and tensed. The kitten squalled again and the rat seemed to forget about me as it cautiously moved toward the other bag.

  In another day and place, we'd often amused ourselves or vented our frustrations by throwing the big nails used in sandbag revetments at the huge damned rats that had infested our camps.

  I flicked open my belt knife, gripped it high on the blade, and threw it. It turned in the air once and sank to the hilt in the middle of the rat. It was a very good toss for so little practice in recent years; perhaps too good. The rat shrieked, scrabbled at the knife for a moment, and then took off like a bat out of hell with my knife still waving from its side. I hoped the knife would fall free as I shoved the dumpster aside enough to get to the bag.

  "Elkor, could you send a drone or two out to look around for my belt knife? It just left the area in a big brown rat and I'm not going to have time to look for it. I think I've found something out here that may interest you, though."

  The six-inch drones passed me moving damned near as fast as the rat had. They zipped around and over and under things and were soon lost to sight. While I was watching them go, another drone had positioned itself a couple of feet to my left without my knowledge.

  When the third drone asked, “What did you find, Ed?” it was all I could do not to jump ten feet.

  "Jesus, Elkor. You could have told me you were sending three."

  "My apologies, Ed. What did you find?"

  The bag moved again and I reached for it. When I picked it up, the kitten evidently decided to go down fighting and very quickly shredded both the side of the bag and my left hand.

  "Ow! Goddamn, cat! Gimme a break, here!"

  It was kind of like trying to hold a power saw, I think. The little monster latched his face onto the ball of my thumb and hung on grimly as its tiny claws gripped and raked wherever possible. It even managed to make noise around all the meat in its mouth.

  Elkor's comment was, “It isn't very friendly, is it?"

  I finally got a grip on the scruff of its neck and stuck a finger in the side of its mouth to pry its little face open, then disengaged its teeth from my thumb. The kitten hung there spitting, yowling, and squirming to either get free or get me again.

  "It's fucking crazy, that's what it is. Can you field-carry it back to Stephie? I'm damaged enough for the moment and I want to see if there are any more out here."

  "I can move it to Stephanie, but what should I do with it next, Ed?"

  Elkor's field took the kitten and I reached for one of my paper towel hankies to wrap my bleeding hand. The kitten was probably terrified to be hanging in the air and moving toward the doorway. It was now motionless and soundless as it floated away.

  "Set up a field-box enclosure on Stephie's deck about three feet square and kill the fleas and bugs I'm sure it has, then just hang onto it for a few minutes. Did you find my knife?"

  "Not yet. The kitten is now contained."

  Another rat lunged over the side of the dumpster and ran away. I used a piece of broken lumber to prod around in the dumpster's contents and found out why the kitten was alone. Someone had thrown a broken-up crate into the dumpster while the mother cat had been foraging inside it. She and another kitten were dead. I saw no others.

  "Elkor, the kitten is an orphan. How old would you say it is?"

  "Possibly ten weeks. Not much more than that."

  "Its mother and another kitten died of injuries. Would you scan the kitten and see if it has any broken ribs or other damage?"

  A moment later his reply was, “There is no apparent damage, Ed."

  "Well, if you can make friends with it, you may have yourself another cat, there."

  "We decided to look for a volunteer, didn't we, Ed? This one certainly doesn't qualify as a volunteer."

  As I walked back into the building, I said, “Adapt, Elkor. This kid's mother is dead and it's having to scrounge in dumpsters for dinner. Hell, it could become a rat's dinner and probably will if we let it go. Let's try to convince it to volunteer, okay?"

  "As you wish, Ed. I've found your knife. It's apparently undamaged, but rather soiled."

  "Thanks, Elkor. Drop the knife in the tool-cleaning sink and I'll tend to it in a minute. First we need to let the kitten know that its world could improve today."

  As I approached Stephanie, the kitten backed as far as possible into the farthest reaches of the containment field and squalled at me. It had a voice like a Siamese, but it was almost steel gray in color and had gold eyes.

  "Hi, baby. You just sit tight while I see if someone named Bear left a few of his kitty treats in Stephie's console, okay?"

  I opened the panel and found the treats I'd always carried for Bear. Shaking one of the soft little cubes out of the milk-carton style box, I approached the containment field and reached inside to place the cube near the kitten without putting my hand within reach of its claws. It remained crunched up against the invisible wall of the field and hissed at me. I flicked the cube closer to it and went to find some kind of water dish.

  Linda said, “Ed, when had you planned on dropping by? We have a few things to do before you go, you know."

  "Something came up out here in the bay, Linda. Can you and Leslie drop by here for a moment?"

  "I guess so."

  "You might bring Doreen with you if she can pry herself loose from the lab."

  "Doreen..? What do I tell her, Ed?"

  "Same as you tell everybody else, Linda. 'Come with me'. She won't mind when she sees what we've found."

  The kitten chose that moment to sound off loudly and piercingly.

  I said, “Sorry, kid. Your mama isn't coming anymore. All you've got is us."

  Linda's muttered, “Oh, damn,” came from my watch, then, “You found a cat. We can't let a damned cat hold us up, Ed."

  "That's why you're bringing Doreen. She likes cats. Elkor likes cats. They'll work something out. I need to clean my knife, now. See you in a few."

  The solvent in the tool sink made quick work of rat residue. I gave the knife a hot water rinse to get the solvent out of the crevices and dried it before slipping it back into my belt pouch. By that time Linda, Leslie, and Doreen were entering the bay.

  Upshot: Linda bitched a little, but softened considerably when she saw my bloodstained bandage.

  "Wow. He put up a rather vigo
rous defense, didn't he?"

  "I'm lucky to have all of my fingers, Linda. We don't know if it's a 'he' yet."

  She chuckled and said, “Let no good deed go unpunished, right? You ought to name it 'Blade'. It's the right color and it seems to have a fistful of knives."

  Stephie volunteered to be a cat containment device as long as necessary, since she officially had nowhere to go until I returned from the assignment.

  Doreen fell in love with the little guy (it got up to try to escape and gender became readily evident) at first sight. She said she'd spend some time helping Elkor care for and befriend the kitten.

  Leslie marveled both at the kitten's fighting spirit and my noble stupidity for not letting go of him when he started slicing.

  "Noble stupidity? If I'd let go he'd be rat food by now. How stupid is that, lady? Ten minutes with the medics will take care of my hand and I heal fast."

  Leslie peeled back the paper towel to look at my hand, squinted hard, and held up the bloodstained towel.

  "Well, I guess you do, Ed. Where did all this blood come from, anyway?"

  I looked at my hand. Except for some reddish lines, my dozens of scratches had almost vanished. The microbots Elkor had set to work in me on the ship the year before must have been working their little butts off. I took the towel and dropped it in a waste can without comment.

  Linda mentioned getting a move on and I said I'd be along in a minute. Once the ladies had left the bay, I asked Elkor if the implant was ready.

  "The implant is ready and the surgical drone is here. Are you ready to proceed?"

  "Guess so. Stephie, would you make me a place to lie down?"

  She did so and I lay still as Elkor's drone installed the device and the kitten watched. I tried to envision things as the kitten might. Voices from nowhere. The big human looking even bigger lying next to the field cage. A floating thing doing something to the big human. Can't escape and can't see the barrier. All in all, the kitten couldn't have been having a good time.

  I felt no different when I got up and said so. Elkor told me that there would be no reason to feel anything until my brain had adjusted to the new linkings.

  "How long is that, normally?” I asked.

  "It varies, but usually a day or two. Most reported a tickling or tingling sensation when the connections were finalized. They also said that the sensations went away soon afterwards."

  As I headed for Linda's office, I said, “More likely they got used to having them and the tingles stopped registering."

  "That could be, as well."

  "Well, Elkor, however things turn out, thanks for the effort. I guess it's time to saddle up and join the ladies. Let me know when the kitten takes the food, and when he does, wait five minutes and float another cube in to him, okay? Place it by the water dish. You'll know the situation is improving when he'll take a drink."

  Stephie asked, “May I do that?"

  "Sure. You both might want to talk a bit and get him used to your voices, too. It doesn't matter what you say. You could take turns reading from of 'War and Peace' and have the same effect. I wouldn't try Bear-talking with him yet. Later, when he's more at home with things, you could work on his communication skills."

  Elkor asked, “Please explain why drinking water is different from eating food under these circumstances, Ed. That statement didn't make sense to me."

  "Eating is quiet and may be interrupted, but cats lap water, Elkor. It makes them put their heads down and make a bit of noise. Feral animals feel particularly vulnerable at such times. Review footage of the big cats at waterholes. You'll see what I mean."

  Elkor said, “Indeed. I'm watching a pair of lions drink while another one keeps watch. In another scene, though, I'm seeing a lone tiger drink continuously. Are you sure of your data?"

  "Is there a lot of open space around the water? I'll bet he's completely alone, Elkor. The tiger's comfortable because at the moment the tiger's the most dangerous predator in the area and he knows it. He owns that area."

  "Things appear to be as you speculate, Ed. I believe I understand, now."

  "Cool. Will you be able to accompany Doreen? Does she have a link?"

  "She does. I can be with her as with you and Linda."

  "Also good. Pull up our discussions concerning Bear's demise and getting you another cat and play them for her at some point today or tonight. You can tell her I told you to do it if she questions the propriety of it. When those pens are ready, just send them to Linda's office for me. She and Leslie don't need to know about the cutter, either, by the way."

  "Are you sure, Ed? The cutter could be considered a close-range weapon."

  "I'm sure, Elkor. I'm going to be on my own up there for the most part. In this case, that literally means 'left to my own devices'. I don't want to put anyone here in the position of having to authorize unusual equipment. I'll drop back in here before I leave so you can put the core in my briefcase and show me how the pens work. And to say goodbye. It's going to feel weird not having you in instantaneous contact."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Leslie was looking at me oddly when I entered Linda's office. Her gaze fell to the knife on my belt. My laundry was on the other desk and my bags on the floor beside it, so I started packing everything.

  Linda said, “I've issued Leslie a pad and a stunner, but she's only had a few minutes to work with them."

  "No problem,” I said. “The pad's easy and the stunner gets easier with practice. I'll work with her if she needs it."

  Leslie watched me pack until it the job was nearly finished, then said, “Elkor showed us how you found the kitten, Ed."

  When she let that statement stand alone, I looked at her.

  "Is there a problem, Leslie?"

  "No, not a problem. Just don't use your knife to peel my oranges, please."

  She grinned and Linda laughed.

  "It's clean,” I said, flicking the knife open to show her. “Very clean. Guaranteed."

  Leslie shuddered. “Still...” she said. “It's been inside a rat."

  Linda said, “Oh, put that damned thing away, macho man. You'll give her a case of the vapors and then we'll have to find someone else for the job."

  Leslie gave her a wry grin as I put my knife back in its holder.

  "Elkor, may I have a five-foot square privacy field between me and these ladies? I need to change into a set of khakis for the trip."

  The opaque field appeared and I began changing clothes.

  Linda chuckled and asked, “What's the matter, Ed? Afraid we'll see something?"

  I peeked over the field and said, “Damned right. If you two get all worked up, we'll never get out of here today."

  Elkor announced the arrival of my pens as they floated through the office doorway. I took them and hung the penholder on my belt, then started rolling up my sleeves.

  "Wow,” said Linda. “Those pens would be pretty fancy to a ten-year-old."

  "Or a sci-fi junkie,” I said, transferring my pocket stuff to the new clothes. “Or even someone with a sense of humor, I'll bet."

  "Oh, yeah. Them, too, maybe,” said Linda. “But mostly ten-year-olds, I think."

  Leslie giggled and Linda grinned at me. I gave them a wry grin in return.

  "They're going to be part of my costume up there; a deliberate incongruity to invite conversation. You can drop the field, now, Elkor. Thanks."

  Leslie asked, “Why would you need something like those pens to open a conversation with someone?"

  "I won't need them for that. The pens are to encourage someone to think that they can see past a facade and initiate a conversation with me, Leslie. That's what incongruities like these can do."

  She nodded slowly and said, “Uh, huh. Okay."

  "You doubt me. I'm hurt. Think about it, Leslie. Did they get your attention? Did they get Linda's? Will they get someone else's attention? Are you really leaving the planet Earth with only that backpack for luggage?"

  The change of topic caugh
t her off guard briefly. As I toed off my golf shoes and pulled on my socks and cowboy boots, she said, “Well, not really. Linda and I did some shopping this morning, too, Ed. I only have one suitcase, though. I still plan to get everything else I need up there."

  I nodded. Linda tapped her own pen on her desk to get our attention.

  "Okay, group. We have a little more than an hour to kill. Here are your transport vouchers. They're on record everywhere it would matter, but hang onto them, anyway. They're part of your pictures as newbies up there. Does anybody have any last-minute business to bring up?"

  Leslie shook her head and said, “Probably, but I can't think of what that might be at the moment. I think we've covered everything we can."

  I said, “Nothing here, I think. As soon as we put my luggage wherever it has to be for loading, I'll go back to the bays for a few minutes, then we can leave."

  Linda said, “In that case, I suggest we put your gear on a cart and head for the cafeteria and get some lunch."

  She rang up someone in the transport offices who sent a guy with a cart for our luggage. He tagged everything to match our voucher numbers and took it all away for loading, then we headed for the cafeteria.

  You can tell when Linda has something nibbling at her. She arranges things on the desk or table as she puts her thoughts together. Once the napkin holder, the little menus, and the sugar, salt, and pepper were precisely spaced, she spoke.

  "You know,” said Linda, “If whoever is behind what's happened up there so far stopped now, we might never figure things out. The Amarans have no clue as to why there's no computer record of a faulty door, and none of the investigators can say yet why an oxygen module blew out or the first man was killed. Cameras in the area recorded nothing at the time of his death, which seems to lead us back to computer control."

  She sipped her coffee and then added, “Nobody has thought of a motive, either. We thought at first that it might somehow be the work of one of the anti-Amaran factions; that maybe they'd managed to slip someone aboard the asteroid. That didn't pan out. Everybody has been checked and double-checked."