Book 3: 3rd World Products, Inc (29 page)

"Did we?"

"Did you or Elkor have a better idea? Did Linda? Did anyone?"

Her image suddenly faced me. It was as if she'd simply rearranged herself to do so without actually turning around in the process. She spoke in that same flat tone as she gestured at the wing and said, “The procedure is finished,” then vanished.

Aw, shit.

When I turned around, Barbara was looking at me. I stepped over to the pilot's seat and sat down, then tilted the seat back and closed my eyes with a sigh.

"Stephanie seems pretty upset,” said Barbara. “We really didn't have a choice, did we? Tell me we didn't?"

"No,” I muttered. “We didn't have a choice or time to keep looking for one."

"Then why is she so upset with you?"

"Not just with me,” I said. “Not with me much at all, Barb, except that I cornered her into doing something that violated her programming. She didn't stop the missiles. She could have. She didn't refuse to cooperate, either, and she didn't come up with a better idea. In the end, she just did as she was told and grabbed the wing, and now she can't find a way to deal with what she
didn't
do."

"But ... But there just wasn't anything else
to
do, Ed!"

"Wrong. There's always another way. We just didn't have time to think of it. She'll think of it, though, now that it's too damned late. That's what hyper-moralistic left-wing civilians do after something like this. They beat themselves to death with theories and hindsight until they either get over it or go crazy from it."

A shadow blocked the light. When I opened my eyes, Barb was waiting for me, and her barely contained anger resonated in her voice to add sharpness to her words.

"
So she's a hypermoralistic civilian?
Tell me, Ed, just what the
hell
does someone like
you
do after something like this happens? You obviously don't seem to have any difficulties with what happened."

"People like
me
,” I said. “Do nothing. We know that there's not a damned thing we
can
do. We also don't get too worked up about the death of someone who was killed while trying to kill a few hundred other people. We say
'Xin Loi'
and move on."

"And just what the
hell
does that mean?"

"It's bastardized Vietnamese from another time of conflict, Barbara. It sort of means
'sorry ‘bout that'
most times, and at those times, it may or may not be said sincerely. At other times it sort of means,
'big fucking deal'
, or
'gee, I almost wish I could give a damn, but I don't'
."

Elkor said, “Ed, Linda is calling."

I met Barbara's glare in silence until she sat down and looked away, then said, “Thanks, Elkor. Put her on a screen, please, and make sure she gets a record of everything that's happened out here."

Elkor said, “Yes, Ed,” as Linda's face again appeared in the air before me.

Linda said, “The other two flitters just returned and your sample is on the way to the lab. Are you two all right?"

"We're fine, Linda. Send out a cleanup crew."

In saccharin tones with a plastic smile, Linda said, “Oh, yes, sir,
sir
. Were you planning on letting us know that it was safe to come out
sometime today?
"

I saw her finger flash past as it stabbed at the disconnect on her pad. It stabbed again, then again.

"Hey, Linda,” I said. “It's my turn to hang up on you. Watch this."

My middle finger made a lazy loop and poked the ‘off’ icon at bottom of the screen.

I turned to face Barbara and said, “We can go back to the base and endure the bullshit or I can take you back to Florida. Your choice."

Barb drew herself up and stuffily said, “I really think I should check with Linda first, Ed. After all, she just hired me today and,
if
I'm not mistaken, she
is
your boss."

After a moment I nodded. “Yeah. Sure. Elkor, hook her up with Linda. I'll be back in a few."

I reached into the cooler for a beer and nearly yanked the top off the bottle, then stepped off the flitter's deck and walked over to look at the ripped-open wing. Early spring in North Dakota is too much like the dead of winter in Florida, and I was wearing my usual shirt, jeans, and golf shoes. The wind seemed cuttingly cold.

"Five suit on,” I said, and felt better instantly as the protective field enveloped me. The only problem was ... I could hold the beer, but I couldn't drink it through the field. Damn. Damn, damn, and
damn!

"Five suit off,” I said, and took a long swig from the bottle. The wind began to sting again. I took another long hit from the bottle, swore quietly, and said, “Five suit on."

"Ed,” called Barbara, “Linda wants to speak with you."

I pretended not to hear her and punted the wing. It rang hollowly. Barbara called me again. I turned around and asked, “About what?"

"I don't know. She just wants to talk to you."

"Well, tell her I'm busy. The emergency is over."

I turned off the five suit again and took a long drag from the bottle, then turned on the suit and sat down on the wing. Barbara stepped off the flitter and approached me. By the time she'd walked the thirty feet or so she was shivering and had wrapped her arms around herself.

"J-J-Jesus! Aren't you c-c-cold out here?"

I spread my arms and smiled. “Do I look cold to you, lady? In fact, it feels a damned sight warmer out here than it did aboard that flitter."

She shivered harder for a moment, then shook her head, turned, and ran back to the flitter. I could see her talking animatedly to the field screen as she tried to rub some warmth back into her arms. She suddenly stood straight and gave me a knowing glare. Heh. Linda must have reminded her about my five suit.

I turned my suit off and on until the beer was gone, then I dropped the bottle into the gash Steph had made in the wing.

Let them figure out how an Ice House beer bottle got in there.

"Ed,” called Barbara, “Linda says it's important!"

Aw, hell. She always thinks that whatever the hell she wants to say is important.

I got up and walked to the flitter, then hopped aboard and said, “I'm here."

"Some people here want to talk to you, Ed. Quite a few, really."

"Show ‘em the feeds from Elkor. I'll debrief later."

"It isn't a debriefing, Ed. They just want to thank you."

"Have them all sign a card or something. I'm not in the mood."

"We'd like to thank you in person, if you don't mind."

I thought about simply signing off and heading back to Florida. I really did. A crowd of people, all excited and noisy and ready to grab my hand or slap me on the back. Been there. Done that. Didn't like it back then, either.

"Linda, tell them I can't make it today. Make an excuse."

Barbara looked at me as if I'd just turned down a promotion.

Linda's gaze narrowed as she said, “I
am not
going to tell the base commander that
you
aren't in the mood, Ed."

"Then put him on and I'll tell him, Linda. Damn it, I'm tired, I'm kind of pissed off at a number of people, this
isn't
part of my job, and I'm just not in the mood for it. And if you think I'm not absolutely serious, just try me and watch me fly South."

After a long moment, she said, “I see."

"I hope so. I'm not trying to piss you or anyone else off, Linda. I just don't want to deal with a crowd right now."

She nodded slowly, then asked, “What about Stephie and Barbara? They were up there with you."

I sighed and looked at Barbara, then said, “Yeah. Okay. I'll bring them in."

I hit the ‘off’ icon and sat down. After a few moments, Barbara nervously asked, “Well, shouldn't we get moving? They're expecting us now."

"Probably. Steph?"

"Yes, sir."

Yes, sir? What's this shit?

"You really want it like that, Steph?"

Her cool voice came through my implant. “I believe so, sir. For the moment."

"Then you've got it. Base ops. Best speed."

"Yes, sir."

"And stop calling me ‘sir'. You know better. You'll be going in with Barbara, so pop in and check your seams and gig line before you face your public."

A couple of moments passed before she appeared and asked, “Why, Ed? You know that—to them—I'm just a flitter control system."

"Then maybe this'll convince some of them otherwise. You did all the flying. You put up the fields, controlled the other flitters, and did everything else. You also enjoy attention a lot more than I do, so go get some."

"Has it occurred to you that I may not be in the mood for this, either?"

Sighing again, I said, “Yes, it has, miLady, but you're one of the people I'm pissed at and this
would
be good PR for your cause. Hell, take all the credit you can."

Steph made no reply as she lifted us toward the base. Scenery flashed by at a speed that made Barbara shut her eyes, gasp, and grip her seat. Within a few seconds we began slowing rapidly only a couple miles from the complex.

When Stephie's sonic boom caught up with us and rolled away across the plains, Barbara let out a little shriek and looked around in alarm, then she saw me grinning at her and settled back in her seat.

I grinned and said, “Well, they probably know we're here now."

She asked, “Where will you be, Ed?"

"Option four on,” I said, and watched her face as I seemingly vanished. “I'll just be somewhere else. You ladies go have yourselves a good time."

Half a dozen people were waiting just inside the front doors of the building. They came outside long enough to greet the ladies and escort them inside. Shortly, only Linda remained standing a few feet from the flitter, staring at the pilot's seat as if she could see me. I picked up the control egg and called Steph.

"Manual control, Steph."

She made no reply, but the egg bonded to my hand. I tilted it slightly to the left and right, then turned the nose toward the South. The flitter mimicked the motions of the egg perfectly.

I said, “Thanks, ma'am."

Linda said, “We need to talk, Ed. Turn off the four suit and come inside."

"Later."

"No, I think we need to talk now. Before this gets out of hand."

I looked at her stern features for a moment, then let my gaze slide down her figure and said, “Hop in, then. I'm going to put in some stick time."

"Stick time?"

"That means that I'm going to be driving for a change. It also means that I'm going to try to rip the wings off ‘cause I'm in a shitty mood. If you want to talk
right now
, you'll just have to suck it up and hop on."

She hesitated, then stepped forward to put her hand on the deck as if to prevent me from leaving. Another moment passed before she stepped aboard and took a seat. I wiggled the egg and the flitter rocked sharply. Linda's hands instantly locked on her seat and her teeth clenched.

With a grin she couldn't see, I tilted the egg's nose to ten degrees and said, “Six hundred, Steph. Kick it into the air."

The flitter launched into the sky like a bullet. I glanced at Linda. She had a deathgrip on her seat and her teeth were still clenched, but she wasn't about to give me the satisfaction of even the smallest sound.

"How about some music, Steph? Give me a playlist."

A field screen appeared before me. I scrolled down until a title grabbed me; Whitney Houston's
'It's Not Right, But It's Okay'
. That has just the kind of beat that I wanted. Volume seven, so I wouldn't hear Linda's screams if she happened to crack.

"Option four off,” I said.

"Thank you,” said Linda. “I'm used to being able to see the driver."

I nodded and said, “Uh, huh,” as I studied the playlist and added Gloria Estefan's
'Go Away'
, then Ricky Martin's
'La Vida Loca'
and
'She Bangs'
.

I said, “Speed twelve hundred, Steph,” as I tilted the egg's nose straight up.

Transition from six to twelve hundred happened only a little less than instantaneously, and only a blink before the flitter rocketed upward. I twisted the egg for a rotating view of the scenery below, then yanked the egg back and took us into a loop. We flew upside down for several seconds while I gave thought to what was missing. Speed alone wasn't enough. I couldn't
feel
the craft. I couldn't
feel
the motions. Too much inertial damping.

"Steph, we can't feel a damned thing.” I glanced at Linda and said, “Give us up to five G's in the seats and aircraft-style responses."

That
did it. I could
feel
the flitter. I sideslipped us and felt the snap. Nose up pressed us into our seats. “Thank you, miLady. Kill Whitney's song and put on Donna Summer's
'I Feel Love'
, please. I wanna hear that lady moan."

As the music's opening swelled the cabin with a heavy beat, I laid the flitter on its side and headed for the lake below us.

In a tense voice, Linda asked, “What the hell are you doing, Ed?"

"Flying, for a change. The best passengers are the quiet ones, you know."

I leveled us at fifty feet, then twenty. We crossed State Road 36 between the towns of Lake Williams and Robinson at eight hundred miles per hour, leaving a cluster of signs rattling, power lines swaying above and behind us, and a big brown dog hauling ass toward Robinson in a total panic.

Beyond the roadbed lay open fields almost all the way to Horsehead Lake. I took us down to twenty feet and a roostertail of violently mingled snow and loose dirt kicked high into the air behind us. I think Linda's grip on her seat actually tightened.

When Linda's head moved to allow her stare starkly at me, I said, “Watch out for those trees ahead."

"
What!? Trees!? Ed..!? Oh, Jesus! Ed!
"

Three trees seemed to grow taller quickly straight ahead of us, all that remained of a patch of forest that had been turned into farmland. The gap between the largest two trees looked too small, so I hopped us over them, then took us back down to twenty feet less than two miles from the lake shore.