by V R Tapscott
She shrugged. “Just sayin, he might be. But probably not. I guess you just meet up and find out. Maybe you can take him to Burger King. Or maybe the Subway in WalMart.”
I snickered. “Yeah, that’s what he needs all right. A Whopper. With cheese and extra onions.”
“You may be onto something there, really. I mean, probably not Burger King, but taking him to Bob’s in Wenatchee or something like that might be nice. It would be a change of pace, and you know if he’s some bigwig, the politicians have been loading him up with fancy food. Research him and see if he’s a vegetarian or something though, first.”
I nodded, “Uh huh. Maybe being too formal is too much. I’ll think about Burger King. Same with the reply?”
“Oh, I think the reply should be fairly formal. We need letterhead and a logo for Bailey and Bond anyhow, right? If you were serious when you mentioned it?
“I was very serious. And I do like the name. Something very old fashioned and formal. Browns and blacks and muted colors. It will make up for the fact of ... well ... us.”
She laughed. “Making up for us is a good idea.”
I gave her a look. “You do realize you’re going to be the figurehead. Like Remington Steele or something.”
She smirked. “You remember that Remington Steele basically took over, right?”
“Yeah, but only I can bend Olive to my every whim. Hear that, Olive? Every whim!”
A razzberry sounded out of thin air. “Yes, boss, whatever you say, boss.”
“See? I have her cowed. She’s so respectful.”
Olive took us through the conference room and showed us the hidden door back into the garage from there. Since it was basically a molecular shift that allowed a section of wall to dissolve away, it was the ultimate in hidden doors. With a slight pang I watched my best friend board the ship and lift off through the ceiling. Then I went back inside and sat down at my breakfast nook and did some research on logos and letterheads.
After a couple hours, I’d made a fair amount of progress. I’d come up with something I liked and even had a start on a website - www.baileyandbond.com - and that was fun. I heard a knock at the door and yelled, “Come in!” I figured it was Bailey, back early.
And then, steaming through the entryway into the house, was the last person I expected or even wanted to see. My mother. In full dress uniform regalia, and with a couple flunkies following along behind her.
“Mother.”
“Jane.”
I swallowed. “It’s good to see you. It’s been awhile.”
“Well, you did suggest a meeting when last we spoke.”
“I did?” And then I realized that I had. “Oh, I did.”
She looked at me severely. “You’ve been very busy, Jane. I’ve been curious as to what you’ve been up to. What have you been up to?” She looked at the two shadows. “You two go back to the truck. I’ll be out soon.”
I took a breath. “Up to? Just relaxing, spending some time with Bailey. It’s summer, that’s what we do here.”
She harrumphed. “Maybe it’s what YOU do here. And besides, I don’t think it’s what you do here either. You’ve quit your job. You have no visible means of support, although you have a HUGE bank account somewhere I’ve not been able to trace. You’re gone for weeks at a time. You’ve been to Tibet, and it appears you’ve been to Australia. And Aruba. Twice.” She smiled sweetly, “And the moon, one mustn’t forget the moon. Oh, and I almost forgot, the Director of the Tibet Museum in Lhasa is even now on his way to the United States. From his itinerary, it really appears his entire journey is based around coming HERE ... to look at apples.”
She paused, gazed at me through dragon eyes, and said, “So, what have you been up to?
My jaw, which had been steadily dropping, snapped shut. “You ... you had me followed?”
“Oh, I had you more than just followed. I’ve been watching you very closely.”
“You don’t even LIKE me. Why are you spying on me?”
My comment seemed to set her back on her heels a bit. “I don’t like you? Of course I don’t like you, I love you. It’s ... built in.”
It was my turn to be taken aback. “You ... what did you just say?”
“Never you mind. And it’s the moon I’m most interested in - how did you get to the moon? Apparently stark naked, pacing inside some sort of oddly shaped polyhedron. One might even call it a flying saucer, I suppose. Most certainly it meets the definition of a UFO - since it was not identifiable when it took off like a bat out of hell and headed back to earth. That is, until we lost it. It vanished. Almost as if someone had turned on the cloaking device they’d forgotten about. It just SMELLS of you, Jane. All over it. Especially since it took off out of just about this location and got to the moon in - well - just under six minutes. Which is essentially impossible.”
“I ... how would I get to the moon, mother? It’s ludicrous.”
“Perhaps. I’m assuming those fine young men who ‘went back to the truck’ will find your launch facility very shortly. Then we’ll see what we see. Are you working with the Chinese?”
I may have gabbled a little. “Working with the Chinese? What in the world are you talking about, Mother? If it wasn’t so ridiculous it would be insulting!”
She zeroed in on me. “Ridiculous? You met with the director of the Tibet museum, alone, for hours. We still don’t know why. Now, a year later that same man is on his way here. Apparently to see you. Just after you spent time on the moon. Not far from where we saw you, the Chinese have a base - are they hunting for ... something? Two years ago, you were hunting for something. Is this all a coincidence, Jane? I hardly think so!”
I was flabbergasted. Also a little concerned. I’d let the “launch facilities” comment go by without reacting, but I was screaming for Olive in my head. Finally, she came back to me, her drawl saying the words I needed to hear.
“I got it covered boss, don’t worry about it.”
I took a breath and almost laughed, the relief was so pure. “Launch facilities? You expect to find what - rockets in my backyard?”
“Well, no, I expected in your barn, actually.”
I rolled my eyes. “You do also realize that China and Tibet are not bosom buddies and not much less likely to work together than cats and dogs. On ANY project, let alone something as major as this one would be.”
She smiled. “Let’s just wait to see what the boys find, eh?”
I shrugged. “Whatever you want, they won’t find anything. Rockets. Good grief. Why does it always have to be something, mother, to get you to visit or even notice my existence? Right now, you’d not even consider talking with me except that it might be some sort of national defense Defcon 1 situation.”
She waved her hands in the air, “You’re always so dramatic. It’s only Defcon 3, maybe even Defcon 4. Right now, we’re just looking at something interesting. Or ... I am.”
I smirked at her. “Oh, out on a limb, are you?”
“Not at all, dear. I’m just here to visit my daughter. My only daughter that I love so dearly and visit ... whenever it’s convenient.”
I have to admit, my shoulders sagged just a little, “When convenient.”
“Oh, stop it, you look pathetic, like you were twelve again.”
“In some ways I am still twelve, mother. And you’ve never changed, why should I?
About this time, the stalwart young sentinels came back, barging into the house like they owned it.
Mother glared at them, her dragon-lady stare coming to the fore. “What did you find?”
They looked at each other uncomfortably and the taller one said, “Nothing, Ma’am. The barn is deserted, beyond being storage for Ms. Bond’s vehicle. We saw no sign of anything approaching this century even, let alone anything more advanced. There’s no sign of any large tracks, nothing of any sort showing any activity at all, in fact. The van comes and goes, but really there’s few tire tracks. The BMW in the outside parking area is regi
stered to Bailey McCallum.
My mother fixed them with a gimlet stare. They didn’t seem to waver, but it was obvious there was really nothing more for them to say. “All right, back to the truck. For real, this time. I’ll be there shortly.”
Once they’d gone, she fixed me with the same stare. “I know you’re up to something. I know there’s something going on. I know you well enough that I doubt it’s anything you would do on purpose, but remember that it’s treason to work against your own country. A bit of advice, when Cai Shun arrives, feed him and send him home with a box of apples and nothing else. I’ll be watching you.”
With that, she rose, turned and walked out of the house without a backward glance. I muttered, “Well, it was nice to see you too, mother.” She’d left the door open and I could hear the big diesel engine in the Humvee start up. I must have really been concentrating to have missed it on arrival. Of course, Kit’s doors and windows were pretty well soundproofed.
I closed the door quietly. “Olive?”
She sounded subdued. “Yes, Jane?”
“Thanks for doing whatever you did. I expected them to at least find the door.”
“I slabbed it over, it looks like part of the floor. I also modified all the pathways in the barn to look untouched, dirt patterns, etc.” She trailed off. “That’s your mother?”
“That’s my mother.”
“She’s scary.”
I sat back down at the breakfast table. “Yeah. Just as much now as when I was twelve.”
Chapter Seven
Shopping - and what came after.
When Bailey stepped up the little ramp into Olive’s ship, she did it with just a tiny bit of nervousness. After all, she’d never been anywhere in the ship without Jane along. Not that she had to have Jane along, she was far more likely in most cases to be the one taking care of Jane, not the reverse. But this was something new and she was justifiably nervous.
“Olive?”
“Yes, Bailey?”
The answer came instantly, without the seeming built-in banter that showed between Olive and Jane. The southern drawl that Olive affected was also muted. Suddenly, Bailey wondered if Olive was as nervous as she, and it made her feel better.
“Um. Can you ... like ... appear here? I’m a little nervous and it feels weird to be alone.”
The voice grew warmer. “Yes, of course.” And suddenly, Olive appeared in the same place she’d been on their last trip, sitting back in her seat with a smile on her face. “Ready to go? Fasten your seatbelt, honey, we’re makin’ time!”
And with that, the ship took off, with Bailey still frantically fiddling with the buckles. She realized inside of herself that she was just as safe and steady without anything like buckles, but it made her feel better. Finally, she got the buckle to catch and smoothed the seat belt. She adjusted her clothes a bit, then said, “Ah, that feels better. How long before we get there, Olive?”
Olive chuckled. “Look down, sweetie.”
Bailey glanced down through the transparent front panel and saw the Empire State Building glide past. “Wow, you’re fast, Olive!”
There was a definite air of preening in Olive’s voice, “I’m getting better at this flying thing. Practice makes perfect, you know.” She laughed, “And I was probably showing off a little while you were distracted by the seat belt.”
“It certainly beats flying commercial - and no TSA checking out your underwear.”
“Bailey, you’ve known Jane for a long time, haven’t you?”
Bailey looked over at Olive. She had a slightly wistful expression on her face. “Well, quite a while. A few years anyhow.”
“And you met at the gym, right?”
Bailey chuckled. “Yes, I decided I was going to get healthy and start working out. If it wasn’t for meeting Jane, that would have lasted exactly one visit. As it was, Jane has me going with her a couple days a week. Why do you ask, Olive?”
“Well, I was just wondering, I guess. I mean, I don’t suppose I’ll ever meet anyone, will I? I mean, I’m not real. I like to talk with people in Crafts of War, but that’s not the same thing at all, is it?
“I don’t know, Olive. I guess a lot of those people playing CoW will never meet each other. I know that Jane hasn’t ever met in person anyone she knew from CoW, but that didn’t stop her from having fun and enjoying conversations and the like. People build all kinds of relationships, Olive, and sometimes they don’t have a chance to really - well - develop them, I guess you’d say. But that goes for people you meet at the neighborhood deli, or someone at the lawyer’s office you talk with on a daily or weekly basis.”
“I really like Jane, Bailey. She seems like a genuinely nice person.”
Bailey smiled. “Yes, she really is. Jane is one of those rare people who actually like and trust people on sight. There are very few she’s met that she dislikes - and I have to say, if she told me she didn’t like someone I’d look pretty close at them before I decided I wanted to have anything to do with them. Of course, since she trusts everyone, she comes up with some real clinkers sometimes - like her ex. A truly nasty person. I was so glad when she finally saw it and dumped him. She’s very loyal, Olive.”
“Loyalty is a great quality, Bailey. Heck, she still cares for Kit and he nearly got her killed over and over.”
Bailey’s eyebrows went up. “Killed? Why? How?”
“Oh, it wasn’t like he set out to kill her. But remember Kit had a kind of a split personality. One part of him was like a real person who liked, or even loved, her and cared about her. The other half was a less attractive analytical part that was simply curious about the world around him and how it worked. Which, on the surface doesn’t sound bad, does it?”
“No, it sounds kind of like what most of us do, really.”
“Well, in Jane’s case, Kit kept encouraging her to do dangerous things while withholding information and equipment. The most important one was the skinsuit. Once he was able to make a skinsuit, he didn’t tell Jane how to activate the helmet. In fact, made her think it was something complicated and different that he had to do and just never did it. So, she went into dangerous places, sometimes being shot at even, and never had a helmet to protect her head. I have the stats - Kit knew how close the bullets came and had detailed analysis of her reactions and reaction times to those events. In at least three cases, another couple inches and Jane would have been dead. He would have mourned her, but he would have simply moved on to another human to continue his tests. He became fascinated in studying Jane’s survival. But it wasn’t until Celeste - the old Command Module - told her about the helmet that she knew about it.”
“Wow. Now I’m more mad at Jane than ever - she never told me any of this!”
Olive shrugged. “Well, you have to admit it was a pretty weird story. I mean, she showed you the ship bay and the ship, and we went on a wild ride - and you pretty well lost it. Took some pretty strong drinks to get past that one.” Olive giggled at the memory.”
“Mmm ... I guess. Um, Olive, why do you talk like a southern girl?”
Olive blushed, although with her skin coloring it was a bit hard to see it. “I like Dolly Parton. She’s always so cool and just seems so honest about life.”
Bailey laughed. “Well, she’s definitely got some cachet, she’s pretty well up there in years and I just hope I have that attitude and flair when I get to her age!”
Olive sighed. “Well, Tavern29 is just below us. I’ve been watching and right now I think would be a good time for you to appear behind some plants over on the east side. It’s pretty quiet over there and I’ve been analyzing waiter movements - it should be at least five minutes before he comes back. So ... “
With no further ado, Olive angled the ship into a shallow dive and carefully docked at the edge of the building, with the ramp extending out into some potted palms along the edge. “Quick, he’ll be back in a bit. Call me!”
Bailey skittered down the ramp, stepped off the end, then waved
at Olive and made her way through the plants, coming out nearly in the lap of a 30something guy sitting at a table. She grinned at him, dodged around his table and headed for the hostess station.
The hostess looked at her in a bit of confusion, but Bailey’s no-nonsense attitude and thousand-dollar shoes made up her mind - she smiled and asked if Bailey was meeting someone, or dining alone. Bailey looked around and saw no sign of Georgia anywhere, so she said, “I’m expecting a friend here soon, so I’ll take a table for two - somewhere near enough to the edge to have a good view, please. Her name is Georgia Daltree, and she should be here any second.”
Just about then, she saw Georgia get off the elevator and she glared at her. “You’re late!”
The hostess boggled a little at Georgia, obviously she recognized her. However, being a true New York girl, she just threaded her way through the tables expertly and seated them with a truly stunning view of the city.
Georgia glared back at her. “I’ve been here for half an hour; I’ve been sitting in the lobby watching for you. You know what a pain in the ass that is, being me? So, I come up to grab a table since you’re LATE, and I find you here. What the hell?”
Bailey had the grace to blush. “Ok, ok. I just got here early and lost track of the time. I should have called. Forgive me?”
Georgia glared some more, but couldn’t really hold it in the face of Bailey’s puppy dog eyes, something Bailey’d practiced in the mirror. She finally laughed and said, “I can never stay mad at you, any more than I can stay mad at Jane. What is it with you two?”
“We’re masters of the art of looking innocent. I’d say mistresses, but it’s gained an odd connotation.”
“Showoff.”
“Me, show off? It’s not me that has her body plastered all over Times Square.”
Georgia breathed on her nails, then buffed them on her shirt. “True, true. I am pretty magnificent.”
Bailey punched her in the shoulder. “That’s not what I had in mind, Francine.”