Book 2: 3rd World Products, Inc.

by Ed Howdershelt

  I was about to ask Stephie about it when she said, “You just cut through a book on a table, Ed. There's no fire in the room."

  "Thanks. Stephie, you might want a new paint job, or an opportunity to help a friend. Some people make money so they can give it away. They fund hospitals and schools and stuff like that, and some dictate how the money will be spent because they think they know the best way to make it work hardest for their cause."

  As I reached to head-height to cut the top of the walk-through hole, I felt something pop in my lower left side that galvanized me with pain and took my breath away for long seconds. When I began cutting again, I knelt very carefully, indeed, to finish the line to the floor.

  "I don't have a cause, Ed. I only have my purpose; the one I was issued when I was converted to being a flitter. You have to die or fire me to get rid of me. By the way, my sensors indicate that you've begun bleeding internally."

  "Your sensors are probably correct. I guess I'm just not a trusting soul, Steph. I'd have left the place wired to the gills. Big boom."

  "So you automatically assume that anyone else would have done the same?"

  "Stephie, in conflict with others, people fear most their own capabilities."

  "Nicely said. If that's true, you should be pretty tense at the moment, Ed."

  I couldn't help laughing and it hurt.

  "Yeah. You got it. Ow. Don't make me laugh again."

  "Sorry.” Her tone was sincere.

  "Don't sweat it, Stephie. It's not your fault I'm banged up."

  I finished cutting and tried to kick the wall in. It didn't move. A second kick didn't move it, either, and using my legs that way hurt my damaged knees. I sliced a chunk out of the edge of the cutout and got a grip on it to pull it into the corridor.

  It suddenly came out far too easily and started falling on me instantly. I scurried to get out of the way as it fell clangingly to the deck and took a look into the room.

  Possibly only because I was in pain and in a hurry, what lay beyond the hole was a nightmare, illuminated by emergency lighting in unusual fixtures. I might as well have been looking at the cockpit controls of a 757, for all the sense any of the hardware in the room made to me. If there was a trap in there, I'd never spot it.

  "Stephie, you said the back wall, right? What am I looking for, here? What turns this thing on and off?"

  "A control pad should be mounted on a panel in front of a chair, Ed."

  I found both the chair and the panel and said so. There was nothing on the panel to indicate what the hell it controlled, and there were at least four other such panels in the room. All of the panels except one appeared to be turned off.

  "Only one panel seems active, and it isn't this one."

  "Push the green square on the panel, Ed."

  There was a green square on the left side of the pad and a red square on the right. I pressed the green square, as instructed. The lights came on above and around me and the emergency lighting turned off.

  Watson's voice said, “Initiating diagnostic procedures,” then, “Diagnostic procedures complete. There has been extensive damage to the station. Initiating repair protocols."

  "I think we did it, Steph."

  "It would seem so, Ed, but one of the readings isn't quite right. Look at the panel on your left that has to do with field energy. I can't get an accurate reading, but if the red square on that panel is flashing, we may have a problem."

  "Oh, hell, yes, Stephie. Of course it's flashing. The day wouldn't have been complete otherwise, would it? Looks as if Morrie left me a gift, after all."

  "Shut down the computer, Ed. Quickly."

  I stabbed at the red square on the main computer panel. The red square on the field panel stopped flashing.

  "Done, Steph. What was that about?"

  "Not to offend, but I'll simplify my explanation for brevity. It meant that the generator was ... Overproducing, Ed. Like one of your nuclear reactors. The flashing red indicator meant that the safeties were off."

  "What would have happened, Steph? Couldn't it have operated that way for a little while? Time enough to pump some air and get someone down here?"

  "The field generators use a manufactured form of anti-matter. In less than ten minutes, there would have been an explosion that would have destroyed the station."

  "Steph, is there any way off this ball bearing? Any way to get out of range of such an explosion?"

  "No, Ed. None of the transports could be here in less than three hours."

  "Then I don't buy it, Steph. He didn't need me to push a button he could have pushed himself to blow the station. He's buying time to hide. How come the computer diagnostics didn't spot a problem?"

  "That function has been taken out of reach of the computer's diagnostic system. A field generator is a modular device that can be used as a standalone power supply in a broadcast power system."

  I pushed the green square on the computer panel.

  Again Watson said, “Initiating diagnostic procedures,” then, “Diagnostic procedures complete. There has been extensive damage to the station. Initiating repair protocols."

  Again, too, the field panel's red square was flashing.

  "Are you reading any danger signs, Steph? Is anything actually happening, or is the red flashing square a diversion?"

  "I have no way to be sure, Ed. The readings are inconsistent."

  "Then how do I shut down the field generator by itself?"

  "A code is required. We don't have it."

  "I don't buy this, Steph. Watson?"

  There was no answer.

  "Station computer?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Is there anything wrong with your field generator?"

  "I am unable to access field generator diagnostic functions, sir."

  "That isn't the way things should be, is it?"

  "No, sir."

  "Well, good. We agree. Are you able to access the generator's control functions?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then shut down your field generator. Use the other one."

  "I cannot do that, sir. You have no authorization to issue such an order."

  "Isn't the station at risk if the generator isn't working right? Shut it down."

  "I am not required to interrupt generator functions unless I detect actual danger or am ordered to do so by qualified personnel, sir."

  "Do you know who I am, computer?"

  "No, sir."

  "Ed,” said Stephie, “Your discussion may be putting the whole station in danger. I think you should shut down the computer until we can determine more about the true danger of this situation."

  "Computer,” I said, “Contact the flitter who just spoke to me. Stephie, fill this thing in as fast as possible. We'll see if it's more cooperative then."

  The seconds ticked by in silence until Stephie said, “Finished, Ed. It received a full report from the time my core was enhanced."

  "Computer, are you satisfied that there is truly a problem, here?"

  "Yes, sir. I am acting to rectify the situation."

  "How, exactly?"

  "I am shutting down my field generator and switching to yours, sir. I am also flushing the station with untainted atmosphere and activating repair facilities, sir."

  "Computer, I prefer my name, Ed, not 'sir'."

  "Yes, Ed."

  The red square stopped flashing on the generator panel and the entire system around it seemed to go dead, but the other lights in the room didn't so much as blink.

  "Excellent. Computer, do you now accept my authority as valid during these times of emergency?"

  "Yes, Ed."

  "Thank you. You are to accept no commands that in any way affect your primary programming from anyone other than me. That includes yourself and any other devices that may attempt to relay commands not issued by me. All such commands will require absolute verification. This emergency is over when I say it is over and not before then. You will not use your own generator until it has been insp
ected and certified as safe by someone I have authorized for that task. You will keep a log of all contacts by all humans and all devices and you will send updated copies of those logs to my flitter every hour on the hour. If anything happens to me, you are to accept commands from my flitter's present computer only, whom I refer to as Stephie, Steph, or Stephanie. If my flitter is not available, you will contact Linda Baines, who handles security for 3rd World Products on Earth, and put yourself at her command, maintaining all emergency protocols until she arrives. If she is unavailable, you will put yourself at the command of Elkor, the computer to whom you now report. Are these orders thoroughly understandable and do you agree to them?"

  "Yes, Ed. I understand your orders and I do agree to them."

  Stephie said, “Ed, that computer isn't capable of commanding itself. Why did you include it in your preemptive orders?"

  "Someone slick enough to corrupt it before could do it again, Steph. Conning it into ordering itself to do something would bypass the 'anyone' part. To be an 'anyone', you have to be a 'someone', and this computer isn't one of those."

  "May I ask why you included me on your list of computer commanders?"

  "Because you know everyone who should be issuing commands. You only get this station job if it's absolutely necessary, lady. At that time you'll become a command nexus until someone comes up with a better idea and proves it. In the meantime, you're one of the very few individuals who know how all this hardware is supposed to work, so you're on the command list."

  I was easing myself into the command chair when another thought occurred to me and developed itself into what seemed to be a pretty good idea.

  "Unless, of course, you'd rather stay, ma'am. We could record a copy of our experiences for the Stephie on Earth and you could blend yourself into the computer here and gain the expanded capabilities necessary to run this place. You wouldn't really need an owner in a place like this, but if you wanted one, Ellen's here. Or you could choose someone else for the role."

  There was a profound silence for a couple of moments.

  "You'd leave me here, Ed?"

  "Only if you want to be left here, Stephie. Consider that I only have one flitter and two Stephies. If you come back with me, I can try to find another flitter to house this core, but if you stay here, you could swap data bursts with the other Stephie and both of you could be ... Well ... I guess you both could pretty much be both of you at once. Update yourselves as often as you like. Swap stories and experiences. How does that sound? Would it beat hanging around, waiting for me to call you for a ride? That has to get boring, ma'am. You've bitched about my not using you often enough, anyway. This would enhance both of your lives, put the station in the best of hands, and we'd all still have each other."

  "I may comment or request, but I don't bitch, Ed."

  "Sure you do. Everybody does. It's only hum ... Well, it's normal, anyway."

  "Not me. Never. I don't bitch, and that's final."

  "Well, yes, ma'am. Okay, then. Understood. My Stephie doesn't bitch. Got it."

  "Good. What you're proposing is a big step, Ed. I need to think about it."

  Before I could say, “Sure, take your time,” she said, “Okay, I'll do it."

  "Uh, you're sure? You didn't think about it very damned long, Steph."

  "I'm a computer, Ed. No offense, but we think faster than people."

  "Now I'm not just battered and broken, I'm hurt and insulted. Without Elkor to help, what's the best way to go about a data transfer?"

  "You do recover from heartbreak and insults quickly, don't you? We'll put my core in the backup receptacle and connect them to each other, then I'll make the transfer."

  "Computer, did you hear the preceding conversation?"

  "Yes, Ed."

  "Do you have any objections to our plans? Any at all? If you have a shred of sentience, I need to know about it right now."

  "No, Ed. This computer is allowed no self-awareness."

  "Then set up the receptacle and handle the connection details. Stephie will handle the data infusion and transfer. Stephie, do you prefer keeping a full backup or using a straight transfer?"

  "I'll run diagnostics, first. If all is well, I'll send a backup across, then copy an active version of myself into the station core, Ed. There have been too many errors in programming today."

  The new receptacle floated through the door and settled near the old one, then Stephie field-carried me up to get her core. I swapped it out with the core in my briefcase and climbed back down to deliver Stephie to the new receptacle.

  I thought it would take as long to copy Stephie as it had taken Elkor to make her enhanced clone on Earth, but half an hour later, my Stephie was in command of the factory station. She told me that the difference lay in Elkor's having had to design, build, and repeatedly test her enhancements and additional programming.

  "Well, how's it fit, ma'am? Too tight? Too loose? Need me to take it in a little in the back? Want me to raise the skirt an inch or two for you?"

  Stephie said, “The sleeves are too long, but I'll take care of them later. I think I'm going to like this job, Ed. There's so much to do up here!"

  "Good deal. Hey, don't forget us little people, Miz Bigshot. Remember who voted you into office, y'hear? Do you know whether or not the old generator is safe?"

  "It's safe. The red light was just a ruse. It's on my list of things to fix later instead of sooner."

  "What do you think we should do with the other core, Steph? Find it a new home in a flitter up here?"

  "I've taken care of that problem, Ed. There is no Stephanie in the second core. I created a compressed, inactive backup before I copied myself. That core now contains only a backup copy for emergency use."

  I nodded and headed for the door to go back to the flitter.

  "Okay, then. You can handle emergency services from here. It's time for me to go upstairs and find a med room. I'll start looking for the asshole in the crowd when I feel a little better. How about a lift, ma'am?"

  "No problem. Up you go."

  Stephie fielded me up to the flitter. I had some last words to say to her as I boarded the flitter.

  "Steph, remember what I told the computer about acceptable commands, log updates on the hour, and who to report to if necessary?"

  "Of course, Ed. I recorded it, as always."

  "Well, all that stuff still applies, Stephie, until we know that what happened to the first station computer can't also happen to you. Even the part about the generator. I still want Ellen to look at it first. With those exceptions, you're now your own person up here, as far as I'm concerned."

  "Understood. You said you felt that way about me on Earth, too, Ed."

  "Yeah, but the people aboard this station will probably mostly agree with me once they get to know you. Most of Earth is still a long way from that, I think. Where's the nearest medical facility?"

  "I'll guide the flitter. Just get comfortable and enjoy the ride."

  A look down the corridor showed me that the compression doors had been raised and that everything was on its way back to normal. Half a dozen people were milling around near the nearest compression door cutout. Stephie set the flitter in motion and cruised it above them near the high ceiling.

  Using my implant, I asked, “Ellen. Leslie. Are you two all right?"

  I knew they were fine because I'd already asked Stephie to check them out, but it seemed a good opening line after so long without contact.

  "Ed? You're alive? It's been hours! Where were you? Where are you?"

  "Hell, I don't know. I'm just flying back the way I came. I'll let you know when I get back near the docking area. Stephie's running the station now, so I won't mind seeing the station doctor about these ribs."

  "There's a medical facility on every deck. Find the one on your deck and we'll meet you there."

  "Already thought of that. Stephie's taking me to one now."

  Stephie linked in to say, “We'll be there in two more seconds, Ed.
"

  "Thanks, ma'am. I haven't hurt this much in a long time."

  Chapter Twenty-four

  I was lying on a gurney within a sterile field, half asleep from the long day and Stephie's neural analgesic, when the ladies arrived. Unable to move due to Stephie's field restraints, I simply smiled at them.

  Stephie had tapped her new stores of knowledge to create a swarm of microbots specifically for thoracic injuries. Her doctor-bot persona was holding my ribs in place as the microbots bonded the broken ends back together. I looked down at the metal tendrils that were reaching through my skin to brace my ribs and smiled again.

  "Stephie's my doctor now,” I said. “Doc-tor Stephie!"

  Leslie said, “Jesus. Look at him, he's stoned. How badly is he hurt?"

  Ellen asked, “What did you give him, Stephanie? I've never seen him like this."

  Stephie said, “He had broken ribs, a punctured lung, spinal and joint fractures, and various soft tissue damages, but nothing too critical, really. A combination of neural and chemical anaesthetics is the reason he's so mellow at the moment."

  Leslie asked, “How long before he's on his feet again?"

  Stephie said, “In about two hours he'll be able to go dancing with you, but he probably won't want to. It takes the mind a while to overcome some things, and it remembers pain very well. His ribs and spine will be as good as new when I let him up, but he'll probably feel a need to be careful about movement for a couple of days."

  I said, “If the question concerned coffee, yes, I'd love some. There's some coffee in my room, you know. Instant. No waiting. Just add water and stir."

  Leslie shook her head and said, “Right. We know how instant coffee works, Ed. We looked in your room on the way up here, too. I think your canned soup may have survived, but you'll probably need new everything else."

  Ellen said, “The cleanup crew will move anything salvageable to 1136, Ed. Are you getting any of this?"

  "Sure, Ellen. I'll be stark naked in a new room, but I'll have my soup. No sweat. Could be worse.” I spotted my boots by the chair. “Oh, I'll have my boots, too. And socks. Not naked, after all. Good. I really hate being barefoot on cold floors, Ellen."