"Maybe I'll go back and ask Barry. I'll bet he knows how things work. What was that about a quest?"
I grinned at her. “Barry is here to find a wife, Leslie. That's about the only reason any of the Amarans spend much time on Earth; to find wives or husbands. Well, that's not quite true. They like to see places like Niagara Falls and the Grand Canyon, and a few actually work on Earth, but some of them are actually very uncomfortable when they're not aboard a ship."
A woman beside the ship's entranceway checked our vouchers and waved us toward one of the cylindrical elevators to be taken to our assigned deck. As we entered the elevator, there was a small chime from the woman's pad and a field descended to constrain us within the cylinder. She consulted the pad and then looked at me.
"Sir, your mass is reading incorrectly. One moment, please."
I said, “Check your figures with Elkor, please. You'll find that my mass is precisely what it should be."
She looked at me oddly for a moment, then consulted her pad again. After a moment, she stepped over to us and said, “Exactly so, sir. Have a nice flight,” then she tapped the deck number on the panel and sent us on our way.
I hadn't been aboard a transport before, so it was all as new to me as to Leslie. The elevator opened on a windowless chamber full of rows of seats and another woman directed us to ours.
The seats were roomy and comfortable and the aisles weren't narrow. All the seats faced inward, toward the center of the sphere and the curved wall of the passenger suite. On that wall were instructions in several languages concerning how to operate various passenger-accessible amenities that could be controlled from our seats.
Each seat had a control panel. All you had to do was flip up the concealing padding and press a spot on the panel for a movie, a comm link, the internet, television, music of several types, a privacy field, or a variety of refreshments.
Leslie sat down and marveled at her surroundings and said with a grin, “This is all sooo cool ... !"
I spotted the refreshment kiosk and pointed at it.
Leslie said, “Wow! Let's go see what they have! Oh, wait! Will I need money?"
"Nope. Read your voucher. It's part of the service."
She asked for a tea and I got a coffee. As we stood by the kiosk, looking around, she asked, “When do we take off?"
The man at the kiosk said, “We lift in about five minutes, ma'am."
"Thanks. Uh, should we go back to our seats now, or can we wait until we have to?"
The man smiled slightly and said, “You won't even notice when we lift. The seats are for your convenience and comfort only."
Again, she marveled at everything. A man standing nearby walked over to us. I noted his glance at our watches.
"First time?” he asked.
I grinned slightly at his inane question and asked, “How could you tell?"
"Sorry,” he said. “Couldn't think of anything else to say. I'm Frank Tillman. I've been on leave for a month and I feel a little off-center right now. You know; glad to be getting back to work, but sorry to leave again. All that."
"Yeah. Been there. When I was in the Army, two weeks of leave was usually more than enough for me. I'm Ed and this is Leslie."
We shook hands all around and chose one of the little tables near the kiosk. As we sat down, Frank told us he was a foreman in the part of the factory that made flitter engines. That led Leslie to tell him—with a glance at me—what I'd said about how the ship was propelled.
He grinned widely and agreed that it wasn't much more complicated than that after you got past a few details, then he proceeded to elaborate on some of those details. When he got to the parts that involved how fields were manufactured, the details got a little too thick for me. Although I listened, I didn't even pretend to understand it all.
Leslie was apparently sorry that she'd gotten him started. I'll give him credit; not all techies can tell when their audience is beginning to glaze over. He stopped his dissertation and apologized for going into far more detail than necessary.
Leslie countered with an apology for not being the best possible audience. Once the table was quiet again, I excused myself to visit the restrooms. Somewhere along the line, I wanted to see if I could make the implant work, and if I could, I wanted to put some practice time in.
When I returned to the table, Leslie and Frank were chewing hard on each other's views about how much real social progress Earth had made since the arrival of the Amarans. He took the view that we hadn't changed a bit and wouldn't for some time to come. She was of the opinion that the world had in many ways become a kinder, gentler place in which to live.
"Okay, what about stunners?” she asked. “Almost every police department in the country uses stunners instead of guns now. Wouldn't you call that social progress?"
He countered that brush wars were still being fought with guns, that criminals preferred guns to stunners, and that real progress in that vein wouldn't occur until nobody had access to guns. Then he asked what I thought about the matter.
"I think I need to go over a few things before we arrive,” I said. “I'll be in my seat with my pad. You two go ahead and hash this thing out, and I'll buy the winner a beer later."
When Leslie rose to join me, I told her not to break off her debate on my account, since I might really be intending to take a nap, waved her back into her seat at the table, and headed for my own seat.
I tapped my pad on and scanned through much of the implant info that Elkor had installed. There was lots of dry data concerning the capabilities of the nine who had been able to make their implants work, but very little that gave me any hint as to how to make my own implant function.
It seemed likely to me that the implant and my stun wand shared some common attributes. The stunner worked—for me, at least—essentially by envisioning the amount of power I wanted to produce and direct. Since there was nothing particularly useable in the info about implants, I decided to mess with it on my own.
Leaning my seat back, I looked around for something small to try to move. There was nothing on the floor, not even a scrap of paper. Nothing had been left lying loose on any of the seats. Nothing within my range of vision appeared to be a viable target for my efforts.
I checked my pocket for change. Three quarters and two pennies. I put one of the pennies on the arm of the seat and tried to envision it sliding toward me, but nothing happened. Ten minutes later, the penny was still where I'd put it. I dove back into the data on the pad to see if maybe I'd missed something, after all.
"Mr. Howdershelt, may I speak with you?"
I looked around to see who'd spoken. There was nobody near me except one woman a few seats over, and she was sound asleep. I realized that someone other than Elkor was speaking to me through my comm implant.
"Sure,” I muttered, “But let me put up a privacy field, first."
I tapped the panel and the indicator came on, but I saw nothing to indicate that a field had formed around me. Reaching to the left, my finger was stopped by an invisible wall.
"Okay,” I said. “Ready."
"Thank you. I'm the ship's computer, sir. I noted your unusual mass and a miniscule drain of my field energies when you came aboard and I scanned you at that time. In case you hadn't realized it, your briefcase registers as a part of you due to your connecting field. When I communicated with Elkor about your implants and your hidden briefcase, he told me nothing more than to let you board this ship."
When the ship's computer said no more for a moment, I said, “Well, how may I help you? By the way, do you have a name?"
The ship's computer answered, “I have a name. I am Kemor. This is not a request for assistance, sir. I thought that I might be able to assist you."
"How's that, Kemor?"
"Sir, you appear to be trying to move a coin. I have been trying to understand why you have not simply used your hand to do so. Utilizing a field for that purpose would consume many times as much energy, but if you would like, I will
move the coin for you."
I laughed softly. “Kemor, many thanks for your offer to assist me, but if you know that I'm trying to move that coin by using a field, you must also know that I have the means to do so and can't quite make it work. Moving the coin for me would be counterproductive to my goal."
"I now understand, sir. I am sorry to have interrupted your efforts."
"No problem, Kemor. Thank you for your concern. Let me ask you this, though; can you think of any way that I might be able to achieve that goal? I seem unable to make use of my field manipulation implant. I'm aware that the odds of success are against me, but it seems to me that these things must work on a principle similar to the stun wands, and I can use a stun wand without any difficulty. I'm not willing to believe that I can't find a way to make my implant work."
"I understand, sir. I will help if I am able."
Something occurred to me.
"Kemor, how did you know that I was trying to make the penny move?"
"I detected a very faint field signature, sir. You are having some effect, but it would seem that whatever you are doing is not quite enough to enable a full field."
"Please examine me and tell me if you agree that the implant is properly installed, Kemor. It isn't that I don't fully trust Elkor's abilities, of course..."
This computer had no personality at all. It ignored my doubts altogether.
"I have already done so, sir. The implant appears to be installed properly."
"Uh, huh. Well, then, maybe it's a matter of feel, Kemor. If I were to continue my efforts in this manner ... Tell me, did you detect any variance in my efforts?"
"Yes, sir. Your field emanation increased from zero to .00003 percent over a period of thirty minutes. At this rate, to create a full field would take you approximately..."
I interrupted him. “It would take too damned long,” I said. “I might not live long enough to crank out a real field at that rate. Any suggestions? How about a jump start, Kemor? Maybe if you boosted signal strength through my implant, or something like that, it would get my own circuits working better."
"I'm not sure that would be a good idea, sir. I would have no idea how much energy to use in such an infusion, and I am not allowed to harm my passengers."
"Kemor, all I want to do is move that penny. How much harm could that much energy do if I could eventually manufacture it myself? It's really important that I make this thing work. If you give me a headache, I'll take an aspirin, okay?"
"Please allow me time to consider this, sir. I would like to consult Elkor on this matter."
I was about to say, “Sure. See what Elkor has to say about it,” but before I could utter a single word, Kemor was back.
"Sir, Elkor has agreed with you concerning our joint effort, but if I am to err, I will err on the side of caution. I will supply your implant with approximately half the energy necessary to move the penny and observe the results. Should you not be harmed, I will increase the energy in very small amounts, but I will not cooperate at a level which appears to cause you harm."
"That's fine with me, Kemor. I have no wish to be brain-damaged. I'm attempting to move the penny, now. Feel free to join in at any time."
For long moments, nothing at all happened with the penny.
"Kemor? Are you doing anything yet? Nothing's happening."
"I'm increasing the energy very gradually, sir."
"I can't feel anything. When you say 'gradually', are you referring to a rate of increase that's appreciably faster than my own?"
Kemor's matter-of-fact reply was, “Yes, sir. I've almost doubled the amount of energy that you were emanating."
Double .00003? That's not caution, that's paranoia.
"Kemor, take it up to one percent. One whole percent. Jeez."
"Sir, I..."
"Please, Kemor. Give it a try. I'll be fine. We need a breakthrough, here."
Nothing happened to the penny, but a slight tickling sensation manifested itself on the scalp behind my ear. It was so slight as to be nearly imaginary.
"Up another percent, Kemor. It barely tickles."
"Sir, these increments are larger than I believe safe."
"Kemor, you're programmed for extreme caution. I'm not. Let's compromise. If it begins to hurt or you detect any damage, we'll stop, okay?"
"Yes, sir. Two percent, sir."
I detected no difference and said so.
"Three percent, Kemor."
"Three percent, sir."
"Four."
"Four percent, sir."
"My name is Ed, not sir. Five percent, Kemor."
"Five percent, Ed."
The tickle no longer seemed imaginary. I rubbed the spot, and on impulse, I gave it a slight slap with two fingers.
"Sir, your action would indicate..."
"It indicates frustration, Kemor. Nothing more. I can feel a tickle, now. Let's continue, please. Six percent."
"Six percent, Ed."
And so it went. The tickle became rather fierce around twelve percent and became a tickly-itch at seventeen. By twenty-five percent it was a full-fledged itch, and by thirty, it felt like a damned mosquito bite. Maybe like several mosquito bites.
"Kemor, are you satisfied that we aren't damaging me?"
"At present, Ed."
"In that case, let's get past this stage quickly. It feels as if I'm being eaten alive by mosquitoes. Take it up to forty percent, please."
A sharp lance of pain like that of a needle under the skin marked the increase. For a moment my concentration on the penny skipped, then I pigeonholed the pain and got back to work. The penny moved perhaps a sixteenth of an inch forward for my effort.
"Kemor! Did you see that? It moved!"
"Yes, Ed. It did, indeed, move. You are to be congratulated."
Damn, this computer was as stiff as ... Well, as a computer, compared to Stephie and Elkor. No personality at all.
"Thank you, Kemor. Do you think I should try it by myself yet, or should we continue until I'm funneling full power, or close to it? Any sign of damage?"
"I detect no damage, Ed, but our efforts are beginning to cause you pain. I cannot advise you to continue."
"Well, if you can't advise me to stop, either, let's take it up five percent."
The pain didn't increase much. It was as if the needle under the skin moved slightly, but not more than that. I tried to lift the penny, rather than slide it. One side of it lifted about the thickness of the penny, itself, and I was able to hold it there.
"Kemor! Are you seeing this?"
"Yes, Ed. Compared to the others who have had implants, your progress would be considered amazing."
"Not yet, it wouldn't be. If I can do this without your help before I get off this ship, that would be amazing, I think. Damn! This is harder than I ever thought it would be, even with your help. Fifty percent, Kemor. Let's move this damned penny."
The pain was like that of a second needle being inserted. I focused myself on the penny. For a long second, nothing happened, then the penny lifted completely off the fabric and remained suspended about a sixteenth of an inch above the surface.
"Ed, you're showing considerable stress."
"No doubt. I feel as if I'm lifting this whole damned ship, Kemor. You guys make this stuff look so easy. I'll never take your talents for granted again."
"What I'm trying to tell you is..."
Leslie appeared outside my field cocoon. She looked concerned as hell. I let the penny drop and it slid off the arm of the seat.
"Kemor, I have company. We'll have to stop for the time being."
Could this computer breathe a sigh of relief? I didn't actually hear one, but I got that impression.
"Yes, Ed. You may call me again to discuss another attempt."
"Thanks, Kemor."
I tried to control my breathing as I tapped the panel to drop the field.
"Hi, Leslie. What's up?"
She looked at me rather sharply.
"What the hel
l have you been doing in here? Having a heart attack?"
I tried to give her an innocent look.
"No, ma'am. Just thinking about things."
"You have to be thinking pretty hard to work up a sweat like that, Ed."
I looked down at my shirt. It was damply plastered to me. Seeing it made the air-conditioning register, of course. I immediately became cold.
"Yeah, well, I guess I can think that hard, Leslie. I'm going to the restroom. Back in a few."
As I moved to get up, I realized my legs weren't going to work quite right the first time, so I canceled the move and tried again a moment later. This time they worked, but I felt damned shaky as I walked to the restroom.
Halfway there, I was intercepted by a female crewmember who said she'd been asked to show me to a shower facility. She led me through a door and down a hallway, then said she'd wait for me in the hall as she opened a door to what must have been a facility usually reserved for crew personnel only.
Once I was inside, I said, “Kemor, thanks again."
"You're welcome, Ed."
"Can you use a field to dry my clothes if I wash them?"
"Yes, Ed."
"Good deal."
I dumped my pockets and wore my shirt and pants into the shower, washing them and myself, then laid the clothes across a couple of sinks as I toweled myself dry. My clothes were dry before I was.
"Kemor, I'll see about moving the penny on my own for an hour or so. If I don't think I'm getting anywhere with it, maybe we can try boosting again."
"If you order me to do so, I will, Ed."
As I dressed, I said, “You sound pretty reluctant, Kemor."
"I would prefer not to be responsible for any damage to you, Ed. Assisting you in damaging yourself is not different from initiating damage."
"Kemor, thanks for helping. Tell you what; if I can't move the penny on my own, I'll just take a nap. How's that?"
"That is acceptable, Ed. Thank you."
I reloaded my pockets and headed for the door.
Chapter Nineteen
The crewwoman led me back to the passenger area. As I returned to my seat, Leslie said, “Well, you look a lot better than you did twenty minutes ago."
Book 2: 3rd World Products, Inc. Page 18