Book 2: 3rd World Products, Inc.

by Ed Howdershelt

  Leslie asked, “What about something simpler? Did these men have anything else in common? A woman, maybe? Her jealous husband, maybe? I know that would seem pretty mundane, but...” She let the sentence hang unfinished.

  Linda said, “That might explain the killings, but not how the first man died."

  She turned to me and said, “I told Leslie about your field theory, Ed. With all the safeguards concerning Amaran technology, I think it's a fairly far-fetched idea, but since there's nothing better being put forward, it's as possible as anything else."

  "If you really thought it was too far-fetched, you wouldn't have been so upset about Stephie and Elkor running suffocation simulations, Linda."

  "I've talked to others since then, Ed. The Amarans were actually shocked. It was real incredulity. They aren't prepared to believe such a malfunction is possible."

  "Great. Should I anticipate resistance up there?"

  Linda sighed and said, “No, not resistance, really. Just a lack of credibility."

  I shrugged. “Wouldn't be the first time. Remember Heilbronn, seventy-two? I went after the woman. Everybody else—everydamnbody—was looking for the man. She was over the border before they found him in the basement. I'd followed her over to the East without agency support. Caught her, wrapped her up, tried to call in. Nobody wanted to admit they'd been wrong. Nobody'd even take my call except you, Linda. You got a bag to me with money and ID and an M-kit. The guy you sent helped me sneak her onto the embassy grounds and we shipped her back. Damn. Is Karl still around? The Soviets hated him."

  Linda shook her head. “Died in eighty-seven. A car accident. A real one."

  "Well, shit. It would have had to be real. Karl was too good to be caught in a setup. How about Mags?"

  "Mags was still running the car lot in ninety-four."

  "Good enough. Ever notice that we always wind up reminiscing when we run out of current stuff? I think I'll go see how the core and the kitten are coming along."

  "Why not take Leslie with you? I have some things to do."

  It hadn't been in my plans, but what the hell...

  "Okay. See you in a while, then."

  Linda went her way and we went ours, proceeding down the hall with our carry-on bags.

  "Elkor, you heard?"

  "Yes, Ed."

  "I'd like to practice a little with the pens. Can we null them and use simulations?"

  "Yes, but you said that..."

  "As usual,” I interrupted him, “Plans change. I need the practice."

  Leslie glanced at me as we walked.

  "I wasn't supposed to see what those pens were really for, was I?"

  "Nobody was supposed to know, but you may have occasion to use them."

  "Uh, huh. Bull. You're stuck with me right now, but you need the practice, so you're going to include me, right?"

  "Right.” I looked at her. “But it won't hurt to have you know what they're for and how they work. When we get up there, you may be getting your own pens."

  Elkor set up a simulation of a chamber door and I put the two pens together as instructed. When I thumbed the rear pen's clasp, a beam of actinic brightness shot out that seemed to stop about six inches from the forward pen's tip. There was a snapping noise that became a soft humming as it heated the air around it.

  I used the beam to carve a two-foot hole in the simulated door. The hum rose in pitch, but didn't become the shrieking sound that I'd expected. After Leslie took a turn with the cutter, both simulations vanished and Elkor told us that the cutter was in normal operating mode. I switched it on again.

  There were two old engine blocks in one corner of the bay that were due to be scrapped. I put the tip of the cutter into one of the empty spark plug holes and pulled the blade of light toward the next hole in line.

  A quarter-inch wide line appeared wherever the blade was dragged through the block, and the feel of passing through real steel matched that of the simulation.

  As Leslie practiced on the other side of the engine block, I asked, “How's the kitten, Elkor? Making any progress?"

  "He has yet to show any signs of relaxation, Ed, although once everyone had gone, he ate a bit more and drank a bit of water."

  "Good signs, Elkor. Good signs. Doreen, are you on this comm link?"

  "Yes, Ed. What are you doing to my kitten, mister?"

  "Not a helluva lot, ma'am. I don't want to finish losing a hand. Elkor knows how to make a cat carrier from his experience with my cat, Bear. Are you going to want to take the kitten home tonight?"

  "I thought so, yes."

  "May I suggest not doing that for a day or two?"

  "Can you give me reasons?"

  "Vague ones, maybe. He's used to the bays, even if he isn't used to being penned up aboard Stephanie. I propose letting her keep him aboard for a couple of days in safety and relative comfort. Food, water, and a few sleeps without having to worry about rats may bring him around some. Maybe eat your lunch in there with him and let him get used to the idea that people won't hurt him. He probably got a lot of run and hide lectures from his mom before she died."

  "Probably so. I can get enough scraps from the cafeteria to hold him for tonight and bring in some cat food tomorrow, but I'm off on Wednesday. I'd like to see if we can become friends before then, because he's going home with me Tuesday night."

  "I'd say to let Elkor set up field barriers to keep him in the house, then, and be careful if you have to handle him. The kid's fast, Doreen. He ripped the hell out of me before I could get a grip on him."

  She giggled. “Maybe you're just getting slow, Ed. Okay. Careful, it is."

  Leslie asked, “Who's going to name him? You or Elkor?"

  "I liked Linda's suggestion. Blade. If Elkor agrees, that'll do for me."

  Elkor said, “I have no objection to that name, Doreen."

  Doreen said, “Blade it is, then."

  There was a small stack of clean red shop-cloths on the tool counter. I grabbed half a dozen or so and headed back to Stephanie with them. I boarded Steph and stacked all but one of the cloths just inside the field enclosure, then placed a couple of the kitty treats on the cloths. The kitten watched me with great wariness.

  The last cloth I folded once and tossed over the kitten, then picked up him up. His claws were useless through the material, but his teeth got me once before I adjusted my grip. He struggled for some time, then either tired out or gave it up as useless.

  I talked to the kitten as I sat down and held him against my chest, avoiding his questing teeth as I stroked his head and neck.

  "Hi, there, little. I know you're having a hard time of things right now, but things'll get better."

  I picked up a kitty treat and held it gingerly in front of his face. He snapped at it, tearing a corner off. I turned it a little and held it close again. Again he snapped, and again a chunk of the treat disappeared. He wasn't voluntarily eating it; no, he was simply not wasting what came away between his needle-like teeth.

  I continued stroking his head and neck and talking to him for a while, then put him down on the cloth bed I'd made for him and held him there for a moment. He made no move to bite me as I dropped the remainder of the kitty treat with the others on the cloths. When I moved to stroke his head again, he tried to shy away, but my left hand kept him on the cloths.

  Leslie asked, “Don't you think you may be moving a little too fast with him?"

  "I think an exposure to kindness now may help Doreen's efforts. Want to pet him while it's relatively safe to do so? He might as well get the idea that we aren't going to eat him, even if being handled scares the shit out of him right now."

  Blade struggled as Leslie approached and he struggled even more as her hand reached to touch him. Even as she petted him, he struggled. Leslie withdrew her hand.

  "I don't think he's ready for this, Ed."

  "He won't be ready tomorrow, either, left on his own to figure things out. Try petting him again. We have a few minutes to work with him."
r />   Leslie reached again. Again Blade struggled, but only until she made contact. He seemed to understand at last that he wasn't getting loose. Leslie stroked him several times, then pulled her hand back again. Blade seemed resigned to his fate. He was trembling as I picked him up and held him again, but after a few moments of being cradled against my chest and stroked around the ears, the trembling faded.

  "There you go, baby. Take it easy, now. All we want to do is help you."

  His ears flicked as he listened, but whenever my hand strayed too close to his face, his little mouth opened and I knew he'd still sink those needle-fangs into me if I got careless.

  "Stephie, he may as well have your whole deck to prowl unless Doreen has reason to need him contained again. When I put him down, just set up your usual perimeter field. If he becomes upset, it will probably be because his mama doesn't come for him when he calls. Maybe you and Elkor could formulate a field that looks and feels about like a hand and pet him a bit while you talk to him?"

  "We can do that, Ed. It won't be quite the same as a real hand, though."

  Elkor said, “I used to do something similar with Bear. He always seemed to be appreciative."

  "Good enough, then. If he seems to have trouble sleeping, imitate a soft human heartbeat near his bunk. He'll get used to it like people get used to the sound of a fan on a summer night."

  Linda said, “Are you two about ready to go?"

  "Just about,” I said. “Elkor, is the core all set?"

  "It is. If you'll open your briefcase, I'll place it inside. When the other core is ready, I'll make a complete backup of Stephanie and exchange them. Her old core can be reprogrammed and returned to other tasks."

  "Stephie,” I asked, “Just to be sure, I'll ask again; is all this fine with you?"

  "I'm getting a bigger brain, Ed. Of course it is."

  Leslie looked unsettled as I opened my briefcase, but she said nothing.

  "What is it, Leslie?"

  The replacement core was secure in my briefcase before she spoke again.

  "I ... Well ... Elkor's going to 'back up' Stephanie, right? Doesn't that mean that there will be another Stephanie for a little while? A third one?"

  I closed the case and it disappeared, but Leslie's eyes tracked its progress as it resumed position above me.

  "Yeah, for a little while. So?"

  She seemed to be hesitant continue, but she asked, “Well, uhm, do you think Stephanie has a soul, Ed? Is it really right to make a copy of a sentient being, then destroy the copy? Wouldn't that amount to killing the copy?"

  I looked at her for some moments. “Leslie, I'm leaving the method of transfer up to the computers involved. They know best how to handle their data. I don't even understand their programming matrixes, and I'm not considered computer illiterate."

  "That's an evasion, not an answer. You don't want to deal with the question."

  "You got it. I don't want to deal with it."

  "Why not? Don't you believe in..."

  "What I believe—or don't—is my business. What they believe is theirs. On the other hand, you raise a point that may have to be addressed another time, so we'll ask Elkor. Elkor, could you just transfer Stephie instead of making a backup copy?"

  "I could, Ed, but if the transfer were interrupted, data could be lost. We prefer to make compressed backups prior to large data transfers."

  "I tend to agree, but a lot of people probably wouldn't. You and Stephie are perceived as sentient by most people who've met you, and most people assume that sentient beings have something called a 'soul'. Some of your routine data procedures could become religious issues if they become public knowledge."

  "Are you suggesting that we keep such procedures from the public?"

  "Definitely. Call them your own version of a religion, if necessary, and tell anyone who questions them that the details of your 'religion' are not open to discussion. Whether or not you have 'souls' is something you must decide for yourselves."

  Leslie became rather agitated at that.

  "How the hell can you expect them to decide something like that for themselves, Ed? Have they had any experience at all with religion?"

  "Hopefully not,” I said. “These two are probably the brightest entities on the planet, Leslie. They're supremely qualified—if they have an interest—to suck up every known text concerning all religions and come up with answers of their own."

  "They're computers, Ed. They can't possibly understand the concept of faith in a higher being."

  Stephanie said, “Some time in the future, you'll have to explain to us how you reached that conclusion about us, Leslie, but right now you both need to get moving. The transport is boarding."

  It wasn't my imagination; Stephie's tense tone was unmistakably that of someone who'd been insulted. It startled me and shocked Leslie.

  "Ohmygod! I'm sorry, Stephie! I didn't mean ... I mean, I wasn't suggesting..."

  "As I said, we can discuss it later,” said Steph. “We're every bit as bright as people, Leslie. We may be somewhat inexperienced, but we learn very quickly."

  I said, “Everybody be cool. You're new at being sentient and Leslie's new at relating to sentient computers, so you're even. Cut each other some slack and let's get going. Stephie, I know I'm taking you with me, but I'm gonna miss you, anyway."

  "I'll miss you, too, Ed, but I'm glad to be going with you. Elkor will handle data bursts that will keep both of us updated while you're gone."

  "I hadn't considered that. Good. Very good. Keep me posted on Blade's progress, too, will you?"

  "You'll receive daily updates. Now get going before Linda yells at you."

  "Yes'm. On our way."

  I patted Stephie's hull and turned to go. Leslie apologized again as we headed for the transport.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I told Leslie that the intra-system transport vehicles come in two sizes; large and huge. Our destination, bay four, was only the size of a football stadium, so our ride would be one of the smaller ones. That explained why there hadn't been room aboard for Stephie, but I wondered aloud why they hadn't used one of the larger transports.

  Leslie stared at me. “You mean this is one of the little ones? Really?"

  Elkor said, “The two larger ones are gathering materials for manufacturing purposes, Ed. The other smaller one is being held in reserve, according to records."

  "Reserve, huh? Is that like 'in case of emergency evacuation'?"

  "The purpose of keeping it in reserve is not stated, but that would seem likely, since one or the other of the small transports has been in reserve at all times since the factory began operation."

  "Huh. Maybe I underestimated the board of directors on the subject of lifeboats."

  "The board had nothing to do with this decision. It is standard Amaran practice where off-planet industries are concerned. Some aspects of the project were not negotiable."

  "Smart people, the Amarans."

  As we entered the lobby, Leslie said, “I've never met one. An Amaran, I mean."

  I said, “You might not know if you had. They look like people, you know."

  She gave me a wry look. “So I've heard. For all I know, you could be one."

  I shook my head and pointed to the tall, brown-haired man who was checking boarding passes.

  "Nope. Not me, but he is."

  Leslie couldn't help gazing at her. “Are you sure, Ed? You aren't kidding me?"

  "Not kidding. Ask him, if you don't believe me."

  Leslie looked shocked. “Oh, I couldn't. I'd be so embarrassed..."

  "Why? Amarans don't mind being Amaran."

  We were nearing the doorway. I said, “Hi, Barry. Leslie, here, wants to know if you're a real, live Amaran."

  Barry smiled and nodded, extending a hand to me, then to Leslie. He didn't release her hand as quickly as mine, and she blushed slightly.

  "Hi, Ed. Yes, Leslie, I'm a real, live Amaran. How long has it been, Ed? Eight months or more?"


  "Yeah, about that. I'm finally getting to visit the factory. Are you ground crew or flight crew?"

  "Ground crew, this time. They're rotating all the singles for Earthside experience."

  "That's what they call it? 'Earthside'? What do they call being on the asteroid?"

  He smiled again and said, “'Up here', or 'up there', mostly. Nobody's thought of a nickname that's stuck."

  "They always do, though, sooner or later. Luck with your quest, guy."

  "Thanks,” he said. Nodding at Leslie, he asked, “Is this lady yours or are you hers?"

  Leslie seemed taken aback both by Barry and his question.

  "Not exactly either way, Barry. Leslie's my handler until her teaching job starts up there. Huh. Yeah, I see what you mean. 'Up there' just falls right out, doesn't it? Anyway, she's on 3rd World's payroll for the next year or so, so you know where to find her. She'll be the redhead surrounded by middle-schoolers."

  "What about you, Ed? What takes you up there? The investigation?"

  "Yeah, that too, but 3rd World offered me a position at the factory and I took it. Sorry we got here so late, but I had to say goodbye to my flitter."

  Barry grinned and said, “That's understandable. It never occurred to me until I met Stephanie that a flitter could actually enjoy flying or anything else. Well, it was nice meeting you, Leslie, but you two should probably go take your seats now. Good seeing you again, Ed. Enjoy the flight."

  Another couple of handshakes later he was back to checking people in and we were moving through the door and toward the transport with a small herd of other people. Leslie looked up the side of the spherical vessel and seemed shocked at the size of it.

  "Big, huh? This is a small one, remember. The really big ones are six times this size."

  "Jesus,” said Leslie. “How the hell can something like this fly?"

  "Just does, same as a flitter. A directed field repels mass. Since the Earth is somewhat bigger than the ship, the ship moves and the Earth doesn't."

  Leslie's incredulous expression changed to something wry as she looked at me.

  "Well, thanks a lot, Einstein. That explains everything, doesn't it?"

  "Yeah, pretty much. If you want more than that, you'll have to ask an engineer."