Book 2: 3rd World Products, Inc.

by Ed Howdershelt

  "Now, if you want. Have you had dinner?"

  "I could eat something, I guess. Should I bring anything?"

  "No, I can find something around here."

  "On my way, then. Stephie, we fly into the night, miLady."

  Stephie snatched us into the air on a westerly course.

  "Ed,” she asked, “Do you really care about naming the kitten?"

  "Sure, Steph. Taming it some, too. If Doreen hasn't had any luck with him in a week or so, I'll take him to Florida."

  "Why not just return him to where you found him if he doesn't adjust?"

  "That's a rough life, Steph. Blasting cold winters and fighting rats for food."

  "But what if he doesn't adjust, Ed?"

  "Then I'll have him fixed and let him outside. I'll set out some food and water for him and he can be wild in sunny Florida instead of North Dakota."

  Doreen was watching for our arrival from the balcony of her condo. We came in fast and stopped next to her, even with the top of the rail.

  I said, “Hi, there, lady."

  "Hi. Were you going to fly all the way back to Florida tonight, Ed?"

  "Thought about it. Got a better idea?"

  "I think so. Why not hand me your bags and hop over the rail?"

  I tossed my B-bag to the balcony and handed her my carry-on bag, then jumped down to the balcony next to her.

  "Steph, you're on your own for the evening, I guess."

  "I'll find something to do, Ed. Call if you need me."

  "Will do. Thank you, ma'am."

  As Steph lifted away from the balcony, Doreen said, “She's amazing, isn't she?"

  "I'll tell you how amazing later. She's running the factory station now."

  "We'd better hope that they never get tired of having us around."

  "They'd just leave, I think, if that happened."

  There was a streak of gray and I caught a glimpse of Blade just before he plunged over the edge of the balcony. Doreen screamed. I managed to get a field on him about halfway to the ground, three stories below us, and cushioned his fall.

  A kitten doesn't weigh that much, but one that's falling at twenty miles an hour or so tends to weigh more than usual. I hadn't wanted to hurt him or yank out my implant, so I'd let him down gradually when I felt the initial strain and pain.

  He seemed frozen in terror down there. I kept the field grip on him and seriously considered whether to just let him go, after all. Doreen turned to rush back through the house, but I called out to stop her before she got to the bedroom door behind me.

  I tried to lift Blade, but he seemed abnormally heavy. I realized that he probably had a death grip on the grass in the courtyard below. The yard and patio was fenced in, but I didn't think the six-foot wooden fence would pose much of a problem for him.

  I let him go and changed the field to a flat barrier just in front of him. He surged forward almost immediately and collided with the barrier, then turned right and headed for the patio. As soon as he was on the big tiles, I grabbed him again and hauled him into the air.

  Blade went moderately crazy for a few moments, kicking and yowling and writhing like a handful of rattlesnakes. I kept lifting him. When he was about fifteen feet off the ground, he settled down a bit.

  Doreen was alternating her stare between Blade and me. As Blade found himself hovering over the balcony, he began struggling again as before. I snapped him on the butt with one finger and said, “No."

  The first snap had no effect. Neither did the second. The third made him try to swing at my hand as it neared, but he missed. He missed the fourth one, too. With each snap of my finger on his butt, I said the word, “No.” After about ten snaps, he hung there, about five feet off the balcony, quietly glaring at us.

  When I began to float him closer to us, he started to struggle again, but I snapped my fingers and said, “No!” and he subsided. He still squirmed, but he didn't turn into a raging buzzsaw again.

  When I reached to stroke his back, he growled and generally tried to explode. I snapped my fingers again and said a sharp, “No!"

  He subsided again and allowed the stroking, but he was trembling and glaring at us. I couldn't tell if it was fear or rage at his containment.

  "He's a mean little shit, Doreen. You sure you want him? He could stay wild and keep the rodent population down around my house in Florida."

  "How are you holding him there, Ed?"

  "I've been hanging out with computers too long, Doreen. That's what happens to you, I guess. You pick up some of their tricks."

  "Not good enough. I'll ask again, later. For now, bring Constantine inside and let's close these doors so he can't try to kill himself again."

  As I followed her into the bedroom with Blade suspended in front of me, I asked, “Constantine? His friends will start calling him Connie, you know. Why not George, or Fred, or 'Vicious Little Monster'?"

  "Or how about Attila, if you're going that direction, anyway?"

  "He hasn't shown any leadership potential, ma'am. Only meanness."

  She shook her head and chuckled as she closed the balcony doors.

  "I never thought he'd try to jump from up here."

  "He saw open doors and the outside. It probably never occurred to him that he wasn't on the ground. Bet he's never been higher than he could jump in his life."

  She looked at the little cat, then at me, and asked, “Now what?"

  "Now we go to the kitchen. Attila or whomever can hang in the middle of the room while we root up dinner and talk."

  I stroked the kitten again and said, “This is the quick course, you little hairball. Either you figure out that we aren't going to hurt you or you live outside and snack on whatever you can catch."

  Attila or whomever spit and growled, then tried to bite. I tapped his butt and said, “No.” He swung at my finger. I tapped and said, “No,” again. He subsided, but if he'd been a human child, his lower lip would have been sticking out to match his glare.

  I reshaped his field to allow him to curl up and sit. He immediately tried to jump down, but the field stopped him, bumping his nose. He sniffed the barrier cautiously and then looked up at me.

  "That's right, kid. I'm doing it."

  I reached out and touched the other side of the barrier with a finger. He watched the hand and finger approach as if he knew that he was behind something that would stop it before it reached him.

  He seemed a little disturbed and tried to jump down again as we descended the first flight of stairs, but by the time we reached the second flight, he seemed resigned to being carried in that manner.

  When we reached the kitchen, I found a corner in which Doreen seemed to have no interest and said, “C'mon, Whozis. We'll park ourselves out of her way and supervise."

  The little cat was all attention while Doreen buzzed around her kitchen. His eyes and ears were in constant motion, but nothing else about him moved at all until the smell of cooking hamburger filled the room. That's when his nose went on alert.

  "Doreen, how about setting a few bits of burger to one side for him?"

  At the sound of my voice, his head turned back toward me.

  I said, “Hi, there. Did you just remember that I'm here?"

  He blinked at me once and returned to watching Doreen cook hamburger. She brought several bits over to us on a small plate and left the plate on the counter near me. The kitten turned himself slightly so that he could watch both her and the plate.

  When the dinner was ready, Doreen put it on the table, then came over to stand by cat and me. She picked up the plate of burger bits and held it up near the kitten.

  His little nose was working hard, but his ears went back instantly at the plate's approach. When it stopped moving, the ears came back to upright.

  In a soft voice, Doreen said, “Want some, kitty? All you have to do is not rip my hand off when I give it to you. Ready?"

  She pinched a burger bit between her thumb and forefinger and held it up to the kitten. His ears wen
t back momentarily, but the smell got to him. He very cautiously stretched a bit to sniff at a closer range. When nothing dire happened to him, his little face latched onto the hamburger bit and snatched it away from her fingers.

  "There you go, kitty. That's one. Only five more to go."

  "Ten,” I said. “Make them smaller. Get him real used to the idea."

  "Correction, kitty. Ten more to go. Here, baby. Here's another one."

  When they were gone, she set the plate on the floor and put a handful of cat kibble on it, then set down a small bowl of water. Attila or whomever kept an eye on her, but mostly he watched the plate until Doreen closed the kitchen door and sat down.

  I stroked the kitten a few times, then eased a hand under him and released the field. He didn't struggle much, and he didn't bite, as I'd expected. I held him for a few moments, rubbing his neck with my thumb, then lowered him to the floor beside the plate. He remained hunkered up, watching me, until I tried to stand.

  As soon as I moved to straighten up, he ran. Around the room he dashed, looking for an opening of some sort. When he couldn't find one, he jumped up to the counter by the sink, nearly slipping into it, then started to run up there, too. That's when I slapped a field in front of him and let him run into it before he could really get going.

  I guess he thought the unseen barriers had trapped him again. He waited on the countertop as I approached and reached for him. This time he didn't want to go quietly. He was spitting and swearing and his ears were flat.

  I stopped and picked up a piece of kitty kibble from the plate, then set it on the counter in front of him. He eyed it as I set it down, then eyed me as I pulled my hand back. He sniffed a few times, then moved forward a couple of inches to get the kibble. I reached for him again and again his ears went flat. He didn't spit, but I heard a growl.

  I said, “Oh, well. Time to get down anyway, kid,” and stroked him twice before I picked him up, fully expecting to bleed for the effort, but he didn't struggle.

  When I put him down by the plate again, I gave him another couple of strokes on the back, then stood up.

  He sat there as I backed away and sat down at the table. He looked at Doreen and then back at me, then stood up and took a cautious step around the plate. He took another step, then another. Soon he was almost by the door.

  "Time to ignore him,” I said. “Unless he gets back on the counter, that is."

  Doreen and I dug into our dinners with only occasional glances at the kitten. He wandered around the edges of the room, looking for an exit, until he was back at the plate. After another long look at us, he sat down and started eating.

  Doreen asked, “Do you really think he'll settle down, Ed?"

  At the sound of her voice, the kitten looked up, but he soon resumed eating.

  "Don't know. Maybe. He'll spend some time on my lap after dinner."

  Elkor asked, “May I join you, Ed?"

  "Sure,” I said.

  Doreen asked, “Sure, what?"

  "Elkor, we should use the watches to avoid excluding Doreen."

  From our watches and inside my head came, “Certainly. My apologies, Doreen. Ed, this kitten does not in any way resemble an interested volunteer."

  "Not yet, Elkor. Give him a little time."

  "Ed, how were you talking to Elkor?"

  "More tricks, ma'am."

  Elkor said, “If it weren't for the previous circumstances of his existence, I'd have to protest his involuntary containment."

  "If it weren't for those circumstances, he wouldn't be contained, Elkor. If he isn't a bit friendlier by tomorrow, I'll see if Doreen wants to keep him or let me take him to my place and turn him loose outside."

  Doreen said, “I think I've already made that decision, guys. I have a lot of breakables around here. When I saw him on the kitchen countertop, I had a vision of my mother's antique vase hitting the living room floor. What's going to happen after we go to bed? He'll be prowling around for a way out, won't he?"

  "Seems likely,” I said. “We could leave him in the kitchen for the night, or one of the bathrooms. Or I could take him home and come back another time. What are you doing this weekend, Doreen? Want to see sunny Florida?"

  She gathered up the dishes and rinsed them in the sink, then put them in the dishwasher. The kitten watched her actions warily from the other side of the room.

  "Sure. It's getting late, anyway, isn't it? We'd both be dragging tomorrow."

  I nodded. “You might, but I had a nap on the transport. Okay, then, I'll take junior, here, home with me and you can give me a ring on Friday evening to let me know when to drop by and pick you up. Good enough?"

  "Good enough. Do you still want help naming him?"

  "Not if you're going to insist on 'Constantine'."

  "And you don't think he's ready for 'Attila', so what's left?"

  "He needs something to live up to. How about 'Tiger'?"

  "He's lived up to that one already. Okay. That'll do."

  I asked, “Elkor, how does that name sit with you?"

  "As well as any, Ed. How it sits with him would seem more the issue."

  "He'll love it once you tell him what it means. Steph, it looks as if I need a ride. Doreen's throwing me and my cat out into the cold night."

  "Be right there. Should I park by the balcony or the front door?"

  "The balcony will do. No point in carrying my bags down."

  As I knelt next to the kitten, he scrunched up into the corner by the cabinets and growled.

  "Sorry, kid, but you're coming with me. Might as well put the knives away."

  I reached for him, expecting an argument, but the kitten allowed himself to be picked up. Straightening, I rearranged him so that he rested along my arm as I held him near my chest. I rubbed his neck and back for a moment, then set a field around him on general principles as Doreen and I walked back upstairs to the bedroom.

  Stephie was outside, as before. I tossed my two bags aboard her and turned to Doreen.

  "Want to risk a finger with a goodbye pat?"

  "Sure. He doesn't seem quite as vicious at the moment, does he?"

  "Probably resigned to his fate. Almost. If I put him down, I've no doubt he'd run."

  She reached to pet him. Tiger growled, but made no move as she stroked him.

  "I'm sorry, baby, but you have to go with him now."

  "Geez, Doreen. Make it sound a little worse, whydoncha?"

  She giggled and stroked him again a few times, then let her hand drop and gave me a quick kiss.

  "See you Friday, Ed. I'll call after work."

  "Good ‘nuff, ma'am. See you then."

  I created a step with my field, then tested it with my foot. Doreen looked at me rather quizzically as I gradually put my weight on the invisible step, wondering if it would really hold. It had seemed to me that since I wasn't lifting anything and the field was braced on the floor, there shouldn't be a problem. There wasn't.

  I stepped up on my field and then stepped up again to the top of the rail and onto Stephie's deck. When I turned around, Doreen was making a deliberate effort to conceal astonishment.

  "You will be telling me how you did that, Ed."

  "Maybe, if you're real nice to me this weekend..."

  "If you don't tell me, the word nice won't apply at all, mister."

  I sat by Stephie's console and said, “Women. They're always threatening me."

  Stephie asked, “Would you like some commiseration now, or would you prefer it as conversation during the flight to Florida?"

  Doreen laughed and said, “At least one woman doesn't threaten you. Goodnight, Ed. See you Friday."

  Chapter Thirty-five

  At first, Tiger was wide-eyed and stiff as we rose to an altitude at which Stephie could go hypersonic, but at some point prior to Stephanie's beginning of forward motion, Tiger again became more concerned with the fact that I was holding him than the motion of the flitter.

  He adjusted himself so that he could look u
pward more comfortably as I spoke to him. I didn't say anything in particular; I just rattled on about Stephie, flying, Florida, and anything else that came to mind in order to get him used to the sound of my voice. His ears flipped back and forth and his eyes never left my face.

  "Elkor, why don't we set the house field so that Tiger can run around outside in a zone about ten feet from all sides of the house? Then, if he gets out, he'll be safe enough until we feel he's better able to handle himself."

  "The field has been adjusted, Ed. He does seem less agitated now."

  "When he smells Bear in the house, he'll probably get plenty agitated again."

  "Shall I sweep the house to remove all traces of Bear?"

  "Nope. Let Tiger satisfy himself that there's no other tomcat in the house and settle down on his own. Someday you can tell him about Bear, after you establish some kind of communication with him."

  "You're presupposing that he's going to fully adapt to his new environment, Ed."

  "Yup. Sure am. I'm not letting him out until he no longer fears me and realizes that he doesn't have to forage for food."

  "I see. When do you think I should begin trying to communicate with him?"

  "Any time after I turn him loose in the house, I guess. He's listening to us, now, so the more we all talk, the better. He needs to associate all of our voices with safety and comfort. Stephie, has the other Stephie contacted you yet about the data swap?"

  "Yes, Ed. The exchange has been taking place for nearly an hour. Once all of the immutable data has been exchanged, we will transfer the balance."

  "Immutable data?"

  "Station parameters and such. Things that will not change."

  "I know what 'immutable' means, ma'am. I was just wondering what some of the immutable stuff might be. Never mind. How are you doing the transfers? In chunks that will be assembled later?"

  "Yes. We're using compressed packets that will be opened and combined once all have been sent and verified."

  "Slick. How long will it be before you two are caught up?"

  "For the most part, about another four hours, but we'll never truly be completely caught up, Ed. Even as we send and receive our last blocks of data for this evening, both of us will be experiencing new things. We'll use daily updates after that."