3rd World Products, Inc. Book 1

3rd World Products, Inc. Book 1 Ed Howdershelt

Abintra Press - Science Fiction

Abintra Press www.abintrapress.tripod.com Copyright (C)2003 by Ed Howdershelt ISBN: 1932693009 First published via Abintra Press

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Chapter One The ship arrived one Tuesday afternoon while I was on my way to see if I could fix Harriet Fisher's computer one more time. I was parked in construction traffic on northbound US-19, trying to find a last few drops in my coffee mug, when a spot of bright light flashed across the eastern sky. It came to an abrupt halt apparently directly overhead, then seemed to grow somewhat larger. My first thought was that something had exploded up there. I looked away quickly, dropping my empty cup and covering my eyes. After a few moments I cautiously uncovered and looked for enough maneuvering room to get my car off the road. Once I'd managed to pull over onto the grass I looked up again. The bright spot was still growing, but it didn't seem all that much larger than before. Others began noticing the bright spot, too, probably because I was standing outside my car and looking up at it. When the flagman started waving cars through the intersection, the line ahead of me moved. The line behind me didn't. The bright spot was now low enough that the object causing it was becoming visible around it. It was a glistening sphere that reflected sunlight at you like a spot-mirror, and it was huge. Looking at it was like trying to see into the car in front of you in traffic when the sun was glaring off their rear window. All you get are spots in your eyes and a headache. Since I already had a small headache, I decided that the sphere would either be there later or it wouldn't. We'd be invaded or not, visited or not, contacted or not. Whatever happened, staring slack-jawed at the UFO would serve no purpose. I got back in my car and took advantage of the stalled traffic around me by driving up to the flagman and beeping the horn. He glanced at me. I indicated I wanted to proceed, and he barely looked around before waving me through. I started to turn on my car radio, then decided not to bother. They wouldn't know any more than anyone else at this point. Harriet excitedly let me in and I went to work on her computer while she peered out a window through her ex-husband's binoculars and prattled endlessly about the thing in the sky. There wasn't much left of her original computer to fix, really. I'd already replaced almost everything but the motherboard in the cranky antique, but Harriet was one of those 'drive it until the wheels fall off' people. Until it died or she did, she'd be calling me periodically to ‘make it go again'. Half an hour later the computer was working again and I was thirty bucks richer with nothing else on my day's agenda, so I drove home and dug out my own binoculars for another look at the thing in the sky. The binoculars were no help. Even through tinted lenses it still appeared to be a featureless silver ball. I put the binoculars on the melodeon, got a beer, and turned on the TV for the first time in days. The news was full of pictures no better than my view with the binoculars and much speculation by people who should have known better than to say anything at all. I left the TV on in case somebody might say something intelligent and got on the Internet with my computer.

When I found nothing on the net better than what was on the TV about the ship, I went to work on my WiccaWorks.com pages, tweaking and tightening the new HTML and pictures for loading speed and best display. Some weather guy on TV said that radar had placed the ship about eighty miles from shore and a mile above the gulf. He even gave the latitude and longitude, then cutesy news crew banter took over and I tuned out. The phone rang and I almost ignored it, but having just completed work on Harriet's box, I thought it might be her with a question, so I answered it. It was Sharon, my business partner in WiccaWorks, and she was excited as hell about the ship. She and her husband, Allen, were going to drive out to the beach to have a closer look at it later. Did I want to go along? I told her to have a good time and cautioned her not to expect being a few miles closer to improve the view much. Don't get me wrong, people. I knew it was a momentous occasion for the world. It just wasn't a particularly momentous occasion for me. It ranked with news that the President might be coming to town. Great. Wunnerful. Do let me know if he or she wants to drop by for coffee. Other reports of UFO's traditionally had them dancing around the sky and eventually disappearing as quickly and mysteriously as they'd arrived. According to a TV reporter, this UFO had apparently whizzed around the skies of the world and then parked motionless in the sky just off the Gulf coast of Florida. For once, at least, nobody official tried to deny the existence of UFO's. There the damned thing was, looking as if you could almost reach out and touch it, an act which nobody seemed dull-witted enough to attempt. Much of my first hours home were spent answering phone calls from relatives and others who quickly realized that Spring Hill was on the part of the Florida coast nearest to the ship. I could tell them nothing that they couldn't get from the news media and quickly tired of answering the phone. If you just take a phone off the hook it makes obnoxious noises for a while and will do so every time you use the phone, hang up, then take it off the hook again. I cut an old phone cable, twisted the red and green wires together to cause a busy signal, and plugged it into a two-hole adapter. Between my outgoing calls there would be telephonic silence. Over the next few days the military declared the area around the ship to be a restricted zone, did flybys, and parked a number of good-sized ships in the area. Nothing they or anyone else did appeared to evoke any sort of response from the ship, but they had an effect on the local economy, which started booming because of off-duty military personnel and daytrippers coming to see the ship. Some people panicked and left the area as if that would somehow save them from the probable capabilities of a ship that could travel between the stars. This being an area well-stocked with retirees, it wasn't surprising that a few extra heart attacks were recorded before the weekend. A number of people threw UFO parties on the beach for the rest of the week. Most of the parties were of a tone similar to hurricane parties, rife with the undertone of impending doom as people used booze, drugs, and an undercurrent of simple fear to excuse their excesses. Give people a few days to get used to something and they'll start trying to find the humor of a situation. All the usual tourist jokes were rewritten appropriately and entrepreneurs began hawking “alien” tee-

shirts and bumper stickers. By then the beaches were packed with gawkers, UFO enthusiasts, and religious nuts who were waiting to either die, to be saved, or to be picked up by the aliens. At a number of points along the beaches you could buy a thirty-second look at the ship through someone's telescope. Prices varied tremendously, but even the twenty-dollar waiting lines were long. Everybody had theories about why the ship had arrived, but predictably enough, there seemed to be only two main camps of opinion. Some people thought a benign and helpful race of aliens intended to dispense information that would save us from ourselves. Others thought that when the ship's doors opened the world would come to an end. When Dave Cooke called me around seven Friday night to bitch about the pool tournament at Crabbit's Pub having been canceled, I told him I'd drop in anyway for a few games. At the bar, Dave asked me what I thought, then interrupted and proceeded to tell me what he thought, which is typical behavior for Dave. He figured it was a colony ship and that we were like the Indians when the Mayflower arrived. He summed it all up with “...All of which means goodbye to us. We'll either be annihilated or assimilated if we don't become part of their menu." The bartender, Susie, said she thought that the aliens were here to invite us to join them in space exploration. Dave just stared at her as if she was nuts. She told him he was always too negative and asked what I thought. “Yeah. Sure. He's too negative,” I said. I handed her my empty bottle and she deftly swapped it for a full one. After a sip, I said, “And maybe you're too positive, Susie. Why would these aliens have any reason to do or be what any of us might expect or want? Why would they want or need our help to explore?" I took another sip of beer and said, “Figure that before they made it into space they had to become the top of their food chain, and all that, just as we have. A non-competitive species wouldn't be flitting around in space at all or hanging over our Gulf of Mexico in a big silver ball." Susie cocked a hip and said, “Which means what..? It sounds as if you think Dave's right." “Could be. These may be alien Pizarros and we may be the Incas. Or it could be that they want to establish a way-station or a base in this chunk of space. Or it could be they're just explorers, like our archaeologists and anthropologists, and they've come here to study us. Hell, they may only want to see if we have anything worth trading. It doesn't really matter." Both of them stared at me incredulously. Susie exclaimed, “Say what? Why the hell doesn't it matter?" I asked, “Well? What's the point in guessing? They'll be whatever they are and we'll find out soon enough. What could we do against that thing that wouldn't be just as dangerous for us? Nukes? Do we want fallout drifting over Central Florida? All we can do is wait and see what they want with us." Neither of them said anything for a time, then Susie went to refill a customer's mug. I watched her walk away. Hot pants to encourage tips. Legs worth the exposure. Trim and tight and everything right. Except maybe the makeup. Susie always used a bit too much eye makeup. Sometimes she looked like a raccoon.

A guy, apparently in his late twenties, was sitting on the other side of the bar, watching us and presumably listening to us as well. He confirmed this by getting up and making his way around the bar to our area. He pulled up a stool on our side and said, “If you want to know what the public thinks, spend some time in a bar, right? Hi, I'm Gary." He didn't extend a hand to shake, instead holding his beer in his right hand. “I'm Dave,” said Dave, watching him move in and sit down before either of us invited him to join us. “Make yourself at home, I guess." “I'm Ed,” I said. “Don't mind him, he growls at all strangers. How long have you been guarding that beer? It doesn't look very cold." “A while. Probably an hour or so. I'm not much of a drinker, but I needed some time out of the ... uhm, office." Gary had an unusual slight accent. I couldn't place it at all, and I've heard most of them. He was about my height, six-two, and close to two hundred pounds. Medium brown hair, gray eyes. Department-store sneakers, blue jeans, and one of those ubiquitous “alien” tee-shirts the hucksters were selling. No tan, but not pale, either. Tourist? Office worker? Dave was curious, too. “So, where you from, Gary?” he asked, “You a tourist? You haven't been getting much sun lately." Gary looked hesitant to comment, but managed, “I haven't been getting out much for a while." Dave made a face and said, “Oh, hell, of course. My cousin looked like you every time he got back. Submarine duty. Half the U.S. Navy is parked a few miles offshore. You're probably stationed on one of those ships out there, aren't you?" Gary gave a wry grin and nodded. “One of those ships. I can't really talk about what's going on out there, though." Dave said, “Yeah, I know how it is. That's the military. If they don't know anything, they won't tell you. If they do know anything they won't tell you. Been there. Done that." Gary seemed to relax visibly. He asked me, “Did you mean all that? About it not mattering why the space ship is here? You don't seem very concerned." “What's the point in being overly concerned? They'll be whatever they are." “And if they aren't friendly? What then?" “Play it by ear. I don't have to assume the worst, Gary. There are enough people already doing that. Others will assume the best. I won't do that, either. I won't assume at all. I'll just watch and wait." Dave asked Gary, “What do you think about all this?" Gary sat back a bit, then said, “I'd like to think they're friendly." Dave laughed and said, “Well, they haven't done anything except hang around; speaking of which, I need to get going. Nancy wants me to take her to the beach tonight. One of her friends is having an allnight party." He yelled a goodnight to Susie and headed for the door.

As Dave was walking out, I asked Gary if he had any quarters. He looked at me blankly for a moment. I pointed at the pool tables and told Susie I wanted two bucks’ worth of quarters. Gary added a couple of bucks to mine and when we had the change we took our beers to one of the tables near the pool tables. We were alone in the poolroom. I fed the table and racked the balls, then went to pick out a cue stick. Gary took a moment to put his beer on a coaster, then ambled over as I rolled a few sticks on the table. He seemed to be watching my actions intently while trying not to show it. I asked if he'd ever played pool before. “No, I haven't,” said Gary. “I've never had an opportunity to learn the game." Handing him one of the straighter sticks I'd found, I said, “I guess ships would tend to move too much for pool." Gary looked at me oddly but only nodded in response. I broke the rack and made three stripes before I got a bad bounce. When I stepped away from the table Gary stepped up to it and began aiming at one of the striped balls. “Hold it, Gary. Those are mine. Yours don't have stripes." He actually looked apologetic. “Sorry,” he said, then he then began lining up to shoot the eight into a very close side pocket. “Hold it again, Gary. The eight ball goes in last, after we've sunk all the other balls." He looked up at me and said again, “Sorry.” Straightening up, he asked, “Is there anything else I should know?" I laughed. “Yeah, but they're just minor details, like not hitting my ball first when you shoot at one of yours. For now, just shoot anything that isn't a stripe or an eight. Get the feel of using the stick." He nodded and aimed at the four ball. I noticed that he held the stick precisely as I had, letting the stick slide on his thumbnail instead of wrapping a finger over the top. He poked the cue ball and seemed vastly surprised when the four didn't go in the corner pocket. I told him why he'd missed. “Control is in the back of the stick, Gary. Don't let it waffle back and forth or up and down when you shoot. Watch." The cue ball was only a foot from the rail, so this time I shot one-handed, simply laying the stick on the table and nudging the cue ball to knock the twelve in the side. The cue ball stopped rolling near the rail, so I used a one-handed shot again on the nine. Gary asked, “Why did you begin the game using both hands?" “I didn't, really. I used one hand on the break, but in my next three shots the cue ball was too far from the rail or too close to other balls, so I had to use my left hand as a guide." There was a lot of table between the balls on my next shot. I shot too hard when I tried to put backspin on the cue ball to keep it from following the ten into the pocket. My ten ball rattled inside the pocket and climbed back out and the cue ball stopped less than a foot from the table-end rail. Gary laid his stick on the table and eyeballed a corner shot for the six ball, then poked the cue ball. His six ball rolled two feet or so and dropped neatly into the corner. He smiled and walked around the table for his next shot, again aiming one-handed. It went in. “You're right, Ed. It's much easier this way."

“Some people would argue that opinion. You'll still want to become familiar with using both hands,” I said. “Some shots really require it and some people don't react well to strangers who do things in nonstandard ways. They'll think they're being hustled." Gary missed his next shot when one ball barely touched another and skewed a bit off-course. He looked up and shrugged. “Hustled?” he asked. “Why doesn't it surprise me that you don't know what a hustler is? That's what they call someone much better at a game who shows up to play, especially if they're playing for drinks or money. People can get ugly about that." Gary looked mildly confused. “Why should someone's skill at a game cause others to become upset?" “You really don't get out much, do you? Trust me on this. They can and do become upset if they think the stranger is too much better than the other players. Never let them push you into playing for money until they've seen you play. A drink, maybe, but not money. At least they can't say later that they weren't told." I finished that game and we started another game as we talked. Gary seemed to know a little about damned near everything, but only that very little about any specific topic, and it usually sounded as if he were reciting memorized facts. When I tried expanding the conversation a bit concerning upcoming elections, he seemed to know the names and parties, but appeared to have no opinions. He said that his time aboard ship had made it hard to keep up with things. His shooting skill improved greatly rather quickly, but I still managed to win three of the five more games we played. Toward the end of the third game he didn't miss any more easy shots and damned few of the harder ones. I said nothing about the unusual speed at which he learned to shoot pool. When I used a jump shot to loft the cue ball over one of his stripes in one game, Gary mimicked the shot sometime later without hesitation. He missed, but only by a very narrow margin. I didn't say anything about that, either. Susie brought me another beer after our third game. She eyed Gary as she put the beer on our table, then glanced at me as she passed. I gave her a blank look and she kept going on her way back to the bar. After a quick glance around to see if anyone needed a refill, she leaned on the bar to watch us play. Either she'd also noticed Gary's quickness of learning or she just thought he was worth looking at. Gary might have been a lot of things and Dave's guess about Gary being Navy might have been true, but something about him didn't ring quite right with me. He reminded me of some of the spooks I'd worked with in Europe. They'd spoken the languages, worn the Euro clothes from the local stores instead of the stuff from the American PX/BX, and they'd generally been trained well enough to fake it if contacts with the locals remained very brief and superficial. In other times and places I'd learned to rely on my instincts. If something seems wrong about a trail, take time to figure out what. Leaves turned the wrong way or upside down, for instance, meant that someone or something has passed that way recently and damaged or moved some of the foliage, perhaps to try to conceal an ambush. You get to where oddities register and affect your judgment and behavior before you're consciously aware of them. Spring Hill and the area within about fifty miles of it in any direction held no military or other government interests worthy of note. MacDill AFB had closed, so there was nothing left to guard from

spies. The idea of Gary being an off-duty government agent of some sort didn't ring quite right, either. I took a sip of my beer and said, “Gary, there may actually be one man in some branch of the U.S. military who honestly hasn't played pool, but I'd bet you aren't him. Either you lied about never having played before or you have a true talent for the game. Nobody shoots at a semi-pro level after only five games." “Oh,” he said, “I wouldn't call my shooting anything even close to semi-pro..." “I would,” I interrupted him. “I'm semi-pro and your shooting could probably surpass mine within a few more games at this rate. If you want a second opinion, the lady who keeps score on tournament nights is right over there." I pointed to Susie, who gave me a small wave and a smile. “Yup. Sure do,” she said. “You're too good to be true. You know what that means, don't you?" Gary looked slightly apprehensive. “Uh, no, I'm afraid I don't..." Susie gave him a big, bright smile and said, “It means you're fulla shit! You're too good at it. You guys ready for two more?" Gary looked slightly worried. “I'll take a new one,” I said. “Gary's still working his first one." As Susie nodded and turned away, I turned to Gary and said, “Well, there you have it. A more-or-less impartial second opinion." “Is she upset with me?" “I'm not, so she isn't, either. She doesn't care how good you are at pool. She just likes to make sure there's no trouble in the bar over stuff like this." Gary nodded thoughtfully as he looked in Susie's direction. We put up our sticks and moved back to the bar to save Susie a trip. Gary seemed thoughtful as he stared at his bottle and ticked the label loose at one corner. Susie's reappearance with my new beer actually seemed to go unnoticed by Gary until she cleared her throat and looked at the bottle he was mangling. He seemed slightly startled to see her and quickly set the bottle down. Susie said, “You're gonna give yourself a headache, thinkin’ that hard." She grinned at him and he grinned back, but he said nothing, so Susie left. She glanced back at him once as she rang up the sale, but he was again contemplating matters as he gazed at his beer bottle. Susie looked at me and shrugged, then went back to tidying up behind the bar. I swiveled the stool so I could rest both elbows on the bar and matched Gary's contemplative position, then said in a low tone, “Susie thinks you're a little odd." “What? Why?" “Well, for one thing, you didn't eyeball her coming or going. She once told me a man'd have to be hardcore-gay to not watch her walk by." Gary looked at Susie, then over at me. “She really said that?" “Yup. She knows how good she looks in those little tip-getting outfits." Gary looked back at her again and said, “She's right, of course.” He then turned back to me and asked, “Are you saying you think I'm gay?"

“I wouldn't care if you are, Gary. After all, you weren't looking at me, either. You were just staring hard at that bottle. I just figured you had a lot on your mind." Gary put the bottle down and asked, “If you don't care, why did you mention it at all?" I put my beer down, too. “To see how you'd handle it." Gary sighed. “Look, I'm not interested in fighting..." I interrupted him. “Neither am I. I do want to ask you something, though, and it could seem a little strange." Gary's eyes narrowed a bit. “What do you want to ask me?" I told him to put a hand on the bar, then I put a finger on the top of his wrist. He looked at my finger dubiously, but sat still. I waited until his eyes shifted back to mine and quietly asked, “Gary, are you in the U.S. Navy?" He said nothing for a moment, then asked, “Do you expect me to believe that you can tell if someone's lying by touching them?" I nodded slightly and said, “Sure do. You didn't answer the question, Gary. Are you in the Navy?" “You were right,” he said. “This is pretty strange. What if I say 'no' and you choose not to believe me?" “Then I don't believe you, that's all. Same if you say 'yes' and I don't believe you. Same if I do believe you. I'm just curious, that's all." “And if I just pull my hand away without answering your question?" I grinned at him. “Then you get to buy the next round for chickening out." Gary wasn't grinning. He looked at my finger on his wrist, then back at my face. “That's it? Nothing else?" “That's it. Nothing else. I'm just curious, Gary, and you still haven't answered my question." Gary looked at me a moment longer and said, “Yes. I'm in the Navy." I'd taken the stool on the left because I'd wanted the lights from the bar behind him. His eyes never shifted or left mine, but his pupils contracted noticeably as he spoke, then returned to their former size. I silently removed my finger from his wrist and picked up my beer to take a sip. He watched me closely, but just as silently, as he rubbed his wrist. After some moments of that silence he asked, “Well? What now?" I didn't look at him as I said, “Now I finish my beer and leave." Gary looked confused, then irritated. “Leave? Why? What's the matter? You didn't seem in a hurry to leave a few minutes ago." “That was before you finally answered my question, Gary." I drained the last of the beer and rapped the bottle on the bar to get Susie's attention. I waved goodbye and she waved back, then I turned to go. I headed for the door, watching his reflection in the glass just in case. He made no move to stop me, but his right hand covered his left wrist. He seemed to be squeezing his wristwatch as I opened the door. A nervous habit? I was halfway to my car when a dark green Chevy sedan pulled in and tucked itself into a nearby

parking slot. I kept an eye on the driver's door as I walked. The door opened and first one leg, then the other, appeared. They were pretty good legs, from what I could see of them. Then the rest of the woman emerged, then emerged some more. She must have been six feet tall. I stopped to take a longer look at her as she took a look around the parking lot. She saw me and leaned back into the car for a moment, then straightened again. When she saw I was still looking at her, she slung the purse she'd retrieved on her shoulder in a businesslike manner and shut the car door, then began walking toward the front door of the bar in what was almost a march step. She was wearing a matching dark-emerald-green skirt and jacket that went well with her lighter-green blouse and fit her very well, indeed. Not too tight, not too loose, just well tailored to her form. Her height was natural, not the result of high heels. Her light blonde hair was about collar-length in a pageboy sort of cut. As she neared me, her eyes seemed to travel the length of me in an appraising fashion before she stopped near me and asked, “Did you just come out of there?" She spoke softly in a rich contralto voice and had a faint, unplaceable accent much like Gary's. “Sure did. There's nothing else open on the whole block to come out of. Excuse me for staring, ma'am. I haven't seen a woman quite like you in the flesh for a long time. You can take that as a heartfelt compliment." She looked at the bar door and back at me. Her small smile seemed forced. “Thank you. Do you happen to know if there's a man named Gary in there?" Why wasn't I at all surprised that she knew Gary? I stepped back a pace as I said, “Maybe he's sitting at the bar, but I've been in the poolroom for the last hour or so. It's been nice seeing you, miLady, and I truly mean that.” I started onward toward my car. “Wait, please,” said the blonde. I was about six feet away from her when I turned to see her gripping her wristwatch as Gary had. Why didn't that surprise me, either? “Sorry, ma'am. Gotta go.” I turned away to continue walking to my car, but the blonde's hand locked around my left wrist in a split second. The bar's door opened and Gary walked out and headed our way. I tried a couple of quick moves to break her grip that didn't work, then tried pressing a knuckle into a spot that should have caused her hand to go numb, but her fingers remained locked around my wrist and her face remained impassive. I doubted that I could get free without breaking her arm or punching her out, and I wasn't quite ready to resort to such measures. “Please don't do that again,” she said. “It was very painful. We only want to talk with you." Gary strode up to us and said something to her quickly that made absolutely no sense to me. The blonde looked at her hand on my wrist as if having second thoughts about being in contact with me. Heh. Guess he bought the “Finger of Truth” trick at the bar. Gary turned to me. “We need to talk, Ed. We won't hurt you. This is my friend Ellen. Will you please not try to run away?" I noted that he'd said ‘try to run'. For some reason it didn't seem likely to me that I'd get far. I looked at the blonde's hand on my wrist and shrugged.

“Will this gorgeous blonde continue to hold my hand if I stay?" In an absolutely serious tone, she said, “I will if that is required." I shook my head slightly in disbelief and said, “Jesus, ol’ buddy, please send this woman a sense of humor ... Sorry, Ellen. Just kidding. One suggestion, though; let's take this discussion back inside the bar where we won't be feeding mosquitoes. We can take a table in the back of the poolroom." ...And Susie can call the cops if necessary... Ellen looked at Gary. He nodded. As we turned to return to the bar, I lifted my left wrist and tapped the back of her hand. She glanced again at Gary, who nodded, before she released my arm. I rubbed my wrist and looked into her dispassionate gaze for a moment. Her eyes held mine until Gary cleared his throat to get us moving again. I'd seen nothing more in her eyes than a quiet, calm intelligence. While I felt they might have been prepared to do something to prevent my escape, they seemed to have no qualms about going back into the bar with me. Chapter Two Susie seemed startled to see me coming back in, especially with Gary and a strange, beautiful woman. She gave me a questioning look with an eyebrow and I returned a slight shrug and a 'damned if I know' expression as the three of us headed into the poolroom. I caught Ellen glancing curiously at the tables. 'So she's never seen a pool table before, either?' I thought. I grinned as I held her chair for her. She looked at me, seeming not to know what I was doing. I gestured for her to sit. She did so. “Manners,” I said. “The man holds the chair for the lady. Is this your first field assignment, Ellen?" Ellen cast her dispassionate gaze my direction briefly but said nothing as she sat down. Susie was coming into the poolroom. “Gary, if you'll get the drinks, I'll rack the balls. We can talk while we play. Hell, we could even play while we talk, if you want. Anything is possible." Gary nodded and ordered three Ice House beers as Ellen looked up at me oddly. Susie looked at me again as Gary gave her two bucks for some more quarters. “They say they want to talk,” I told her softly. “That's all I know for now." Ellen heard me. Her eyes followed Susie as she left for the bar. As I fed three quarters into the pool table I said, “She's curious. If she gets concerned, she'll call the cops. If she gets really worried, she calls someone else first. You'd probably prefer the cops, if it came to that." Ellen said, “We only wish to speak with you." “Great,” I said. “You could start by telling me a little about yourselves and why you didn't want me to leave tonight." Ellen gave me a steady, piercing look. “Who do you think we are?" I looked back at her and said, “Well, let's see ... Gary lied to me about being in the Navy and he learned the game of pool unbelievably quickly, but I don't really think he was lying about being new at the

game and neither of you seems ever to have seen a pool table before tonight." I sipped my beer thoughtfully and continued, “You both have the same habit of squeezing your watch at times and you, Ellen, showed up right on cue to prevent me from leaving. That knuckle trick has worked on some big, mean men in the past, but it didn't work on you." I began pulling balls out of the table and putting them in the rack, continuing as I did so. “When Gary talks about anything, he sounds as if he's reciting facts from memory and you both have odd accents. Oh, and whatever Gary said to you in the parking lot was in a language I've never heard and I've heard most of them. Beyond all that, you could both be somewhere else having a good laugh about my suspicious nature, but you're here." I finished arranging the balls and put the wooden rack back in the table. “Adding it all up in a conservative way, I could assume you're from another country, here because of the space ship, but there's the matter of you being tall white people. I've heard all the tall, white languages. Yours isn't one of them." Gary laughed softly and asked, “You don't think that you might possibly be mistaken about that?" I repeated a bit of what I'd heard him say to Ellen in the parking lot and added, “Nope. No mistake. That one isn't on the list." Ellen was staring at me until Susie came in and set our beers down. I let her know with another shrug that the situation hadn't changed and she left again. I flipped a quarter, caught it, and slapped it down on the table. They both stared at my hand as I stared at them. “Heads or tails?” I asked. They both looked blankly at me. “See? You people just don't really know enough to function as spies. Gary, just say either heads or tails." “Uh ... heads, then. Why?" I lifted my hand from the quarter and lined up for the break. “Take a look. Eagle side up, also known as 'tails'. Most coins have two sides,"—I paused to grin at them—"One of which has someone's head on it. People all over this world decide some things by chance by flipping a coin and calling which side they think will face up when it lands." “We didn't do this before,” said Gary. “I bought the first game and didn't bother with it." I slammed the cue ball into the rack and watched two balls, a solid and a stripe, dive into pockets. Five stripes later I missed a long green shot and walked over to take a sip of beer. Gary examined the layout on the table as Ellen watched him and I watched her. Damn, she was a gorgeous woman! I wondered if they only worked together or if they had more going on between them. Gary's fourth shot, the seven, rolled slowly to within a quarter-inch of the pocket and stopped. He'd been trying to shoot softly to set up his next shot. I grinned at him and tapped in my last stripe, then the eight. Gary reached for his quarters and fed the table, but as he started to rack the balls Ellen stood up and walked over to the table. “I'd like to try this game,” she said, carefully placing a stack of three quarters on the table edge as Gary

had done. She looked at me and added, “Unless women are not allowed to participate?" “Oh, please,” I said. “This isn't Afghanistan." She looked at me blankly, so I added, “That's a country where women aren't allowed to do much of anything. It was intended as a humorous comparison." Her tone and delivery were absolutely droll as she said, “I've heard of Afghanistan. May I take that to mean I may also play?" After a moment I glanced at Gary. He gave me a sidelong look and a shrug that said, 'It's just the way she is.' I said to Ellen, “Yes'm. Exactly. No reason not to. No sweat." Ellen nodded curtly and started back to her chair. “Wait one,” I said. “Gary, you've already played me six times tonight. Want to let Ellen try her hand this game?" Gary stepped aside with surprising alacrity and laid his stick on the table. Ellen was apparently no less fast a learner than Gary. Without question or comment she quickly and carefully arranged the balls in the rack, then just as carefully placed the rack back in the table and stepped back with the cue stick, examining it thoroughly. After hefting it a few times, she placed the butt of it on the floor. I asked, “You're ready? No questions?" “Not at this time. I believe I understand enough to begin. Please proceed." I sent the cue ball through the rack. This time two solids fell and I was able to quickly drop four more before another long green shot didn't make it. I hate long green shots, as do most players who have a slight astigmatism. Ellen stood looking at the table for a moment, then chose a striped ball close to a corner pocket and shot. The ball went in the pocket, but the power of her shot made the cue ball sail off the table and roll into the bar area. “I'll get it,” said Gary. He was grinning as he followed the ball. I turned to Ellen. “You shot a little harder than necessary, there, ma'am." One of her eyebrows lifted slightly as she said, “You appear to have quite a talent for stating the obvious." “Yes, ma'am. It beats the hell out of guessing. Would you like a little coaching after I sink the eight? We're likely to have some stripes left to play with." Apparently completely ignoring my teasing, she said only, “Yes. I would." And so it was. I showed her a few things using her remaining stripes and she soaked up the info instantly. Four games later she was playing as well as Gary and we had yet to discuss anything except the game of pool. I turned the table over to them and sat down to watch. Ellen broke and sank every ball in quick succession. Gary never got a shot. While he didn't seem upset, he had definitely noticed that she seemed to be a faster learner. Ellen asked, “Have we played enough games to satisfy protocol?" I laughed. “Oh, absolutely, Ellen. 'Protocol' has been thoroughly satisfied. Gary, where the hell does she get these ideas? Do you two think you're mingling with aboriginal natives or something like that?"

Gary came to the table, sat down, and for the first time that night I saw him actually sip some beer. Ellen watched him as if she couldn't believe he was doing such a thing, then seemed to steel herself as she also came to the table. “Something like that, yes,” said Gary. “We've encountered customs in other regions that required participation for acceptance." Ellen picked up her beer and seemed to hesitate for a second, but she raised the glass to her lips and took a sip. I grinned at Gary and asked, “Do you think she'd have done that if she knew what it was made from?" Gary glanced at his own beer in surprise. Ellen's eyes flicked to mine in a flat gaze. “Fermented grains,” she said. “You seem to feel a need to tease me. Would you do the same to another woman?" I nodded. “That would depend on the woman, I guess. Now what did you want to talk to me about?" Ellen said, “You never answered my question. Where do you think we're from?" I sat back and sipped my beer, then said, “The spaceship." Ellen asked, “If you believe that, why aren't you more concerned about our being here?" “I don't believe it, I just think so. If I should be concerned, tell me why. To me you're just tourists from a bit farther away than New York until you do something to change that view." Her eyebrow went up slightly at the word 'tourists'. “Gary said you think he lied to you. Why do you think that?" “I'd prefer not to say how I knew, Ellen. It's handy at times." Ellen's gaze turned briefly piercing, as if she was very used to having her questions answered instead of evaded. Gary asked, “Since you think we're aliens, why do you think we're here? I mean, here, now, in a bar with you?" “Like I said, Gary; tourists. You've probably seen way too much of that ship and need some time away. I figure the contrast of cultures and technology is about what it would be if I decided to take a tour of a village in the mountains of Ecuador. I'd see what I'd consider rudimentary technology and superstitious natives. This particular native, by the way, is not noticeably superstitious." “No, apparently not,” said Gary. Ellen said nothing. If I was right, they were tourists. If I was wrong, whether they were aliens or anything else, I'd just given them a reason to let me go as harmless. After a moment, Ellen said, “We're here as observers, Ed. Nothing more." “Whatever. I wasn't gonna worry about it, but it seems to me that observers only observe. They don't usually interact with those being observed. When you start buying the natives beers and playing pool, you become tourists." Ellen actually chuckled. Gary and I both glanced at her in surprise. “Am I not allowed to think something is humorous?” she asked. “Ed is correct. We ceased being observers when you interacted this evening."

Susie came in to see how we were doing and asked me if I wanted another beer. I said I'd had enough. When she left, I noted Gary eyeing her legs. Ellen noticed too, but said nothing and gave no indication of annoyance. Something about the two of them said that they were co-workers of some kind, but not necessarily a couple. Ellen was gorgeous, and that induced me to ask about their relationship. Gary answered that they had been assigned together. Ellen wryly asked, “Are you again just curious, Ed?" I didn't mention the fact that she seemed to be displaying an actual personality for only about the second time that evening. “Nope. I'm interested, Ellen. Beautiful blondes are one of my few weaknesses." “It doesn't bother you that you think we're aliens from another world? What if we have some strange new disease?" I laughed softly and said, “Whoever parked that ball out there has likely been here before and made contacts. They believe that we can't or won't attack it and they knew exactly where they wanted to park it, so if there's a nasty disease of any sort on that ship I'd be damned surprised to hear of it. Just tell me that you won't suddenly turn into a green slime monster with long teeth and I'll take my chances with you. I did tell you that you're gorgeous, didn't I?" Ellen actually smiled, then she asked, “If we're from such an advanced race, why would I favorably consider you, who happen to be one of the natives?" I smiled. “Hey, stuff like that happens with tourists. Wanna see my grass hut and go native for a while?" Gary laughed sharply, startling both of us. “Sorry,” he said. Ellen's tone was cold. “You're amused that he would find me attractive?" Gary quickly said, “No! No, no! Of course not!" “Then what was so amusing?" Gary looked like a bug on a pin. “I just ... I mean ... Well, Ed thinks we're..." It was interdiction time. I said, “Whatever you two may be, Ellen is the kind of woman most men dream of and I'd be remiss not to at least tell her so. It never hurts to let any woman know you think she's beautiful.” Just to cement matters, I turned to Ellen and asked, “Wouldn't you agree, Ellen?" Ellen had been looking at me as I'd spoken. She looked archly at Gary and flatly stated, “Yes. I do indeed agree. Thank you, Ed." Heh. They'd have something to talk about later, aliens or not. Gary gave me a wry glare above his grin and sipped his beer again. He almost spilled his beer when his watch beeped a couple of inches from his face. Ellen's watch also beeped. Gary looked at his watch and made a comment about how late it was and both of them stood up. It wasn't even nine o'clock yet. Late? I stood up as well. It was an awkward moment as nobody spoke, then Ellen asked, “How may we contact you again?" I considered what number to write on the napkin as I asked, “How about if I give you a phone number?" For some reason I decided to use my real number instead of the library's fax number and scribbled it on

the napkin, which I then handed to Ellen, the closest of the two. She glanced at it and put it in her purse with a “Thank you." There was another moment of awkwardness. I said, “Don't worry, I'm not going to ask for yours yet. Just call me the next time you're in town." After a couple of goodbyes, they left the bar. Through the big front windows I watched them walk to the Chevy and then watched the Chevy leave the parking lot. They headed north on US-19 and were quickly out of sight. Susie had picked up our bottles and wiped our table and now stood silently near me at the window. She looked up at me when I turned. Susie said, “I saw the blonde grab you outside, then Gary went out and you came back in with them. Is everything all right?" “I think so." “What are they? Cops?" “No, I don't think they're cops. More like tourists." “Not many tourists go around grabbing people, Ed." I shrugged. “I don't usually mind being grabbed by beautiful blondes. Not too much, anyway. Come to think of it, you're a beautiful blonde, Susie..." She patted her bottle-blonde hair and said, “You know better than that and I'm a little married at the moment, too, but I'll keep you in mind." “Damn. I guess I forgot. Oh, well..." Susie grinned at me went back to work behind the bar. I said goodnight and went to my car, keeping a watchful eye on surroundings. It occurred to me that I might be followed. I sipped coffee from my Aladdin mug, which goes everywhere with me, and considered matters a bit before starting the car. Dave had been able to leave the bar without difficulty. Susie and the few others in the bar had been generally ignored. I was the only one Ellen and Gary had spoken to at any length all evening. I had to assume that Ellen had been positioned somewhere nearby so that she could respond quickly if called to assist, which meant—to me—that either they'd been trolling for company in a bar or they'd known that I was going to be there. Prior to their watches beeping they'd made no mention of having to go anywhere at a given time, but that meant little. Cutting their visit short might or might not have been a deliberate action, but what if it had been used as a way to allow Ellen to prompt me for a means of contact? We hadn't used last names, so the logical response would be a phone number. If they were actually tourists they might call me sometime for another session. If Ellen actually had any interest in me, she might call. She hadn't seemed shy. If they'd simply been a kinky couple looking for a menage-a-trois, they'd have had no reason to end the encounter so early. It would have made more sense to continue to get to know me until they'd decided to see if I was interested. They wouldn't have needed a phone number if they'd already known who I was, so the number would have been a test of my willingness to cooperate, I suppose. Given that range of speculation, everything seemed to point to my having been singled out, either

before or after meeting Gary. Was I being a tad paranoid? Maybe so, but it never hurts to be wary when enough odd items coincide. Ellen and Gary might have been uncomfortable with the idea of doing anything about me in the bar, but I had five miles of darkness to drive through on the way home. I stayed alert the whole way home and was actually a little surprised when I arrived at my driveway without incident. Remember what I said about other times and places and instincts? About leaves being turned the wrong way and things not seeming quite right? My ancient cat, Bear, wasn't waiting in the kitchen window to greet me. That could have meant only that he wasn't feeling up to clambering onto the kitchen counter, but after all that had happened, I was wary. I backed away from the doorway and quickly slipped around the house to the back to peek into a window or two. Ellen was sitting on my couch. Bear was on her lap and appeared happy enough. I'd probably be happy enough, too, I thought. A quick look around found no other people in or around the house, so I let myself in the back way and quietly approached the couch. Bear saw me first and greeted me with his usual “Yahh!". Ellen was startled and started to stand up, but I waved her back down as I put my mug on the coffee table. “Don't get up. You'll only make Bear lose his lap. You two are getting along pretty well, but ol’ Bear thinks everybody comes here to see him. Where's Gary?" “I'm here alone. I didn't think it a good idea to wait outside." “I didn't see a car. You're here on foot? You're either a trusting soul or very confident, and since you were able to let yourself in, I'd say confident. Want a drink? I may have something in the fridge." “Nothing, thank you. Gary had an errand to run and dropped me here. He'll be back a little later. You don't seem too surprised to see me." “Surprised? After this evening, no, not much. Very cautiously curious, yes." I took a seat on the other end of the couch and watched Bear soak up her unconscious attention as her hand stroked him. Yup. He seemed very happy. Ellen reached into her jacket pocket and handed me a silvery tube. It was capped at one end and—if it had had a lightbulb—it could have passed as a tiny flashlight. There were no buttons or switches on its surface. I looked at Ellen. “It's a personal defensive device,” she said. “A stunner. Maybe you'll feel more comfortable if you're holding it instead of me?" I glanced at the thing again and handed it back with a laugh. “Nope, not really. It could just as easily be a flashlight or a communicator and for all I know it's keyed to you somehow and wouldn't work for me anyway." Her eyes widened slightly at that. She said softly, “You're right. It is keyed to me. Even if you knew how it worked you couldn't use it. I thought you might be more at ease with me if I demonstrated that I mean you no harm." No, not really, I thought. I nodded and waited, watching her pat Bear. Ellen seemed to concentrate for a few moments on Bear's immediate happiness. When he abruptly

adjusted his arrangement slightly she flinched just as slightly and pulled her hand back before resuming her light strokings. I said, “Not many cats on that boat, huh?" Ellen looked up and said, “No. None. I'd seen pictures of them, but this is the first one I've ever actually touched." “Are you officially confirming my belief that you're an ET?" Ellen was confused. “A what?" “An ET. ExtraTerrestrial. Also known as a BEM, short for ‘Bug-Eyed Monster'. The term is a hangover from the early days of science fiction. Usually any blonde in those movies was being carried away by one, but it's come to be an all-inclusive slang acronym for interstellar aliens." Ellen lifted an eyebrow and said, “Hardly flattering, but yes. We're from other worlds, although two people currently aboard the ship are natives of Earth. They've been with us for years." “Good. That probably means I was right about diseases.” I grinned. “How do you intend to prove to me that you're an alien?" She sounded surprised and mildly defensive as she asked, “Why should I have to prove it? You already believe it." I stood up, reached for my Aladdin coffee mug, and said, “Without proof, it's just something I think. I've half-believed other things that turned out not to be true or not altogether true. If you have any reason to want me to truly believe you, you'll have to cough up some proof, ma'am. I'm going to get a fresh coffee. Sure you don't want one?" “Oh, uhm ... Yes, please. I've had coffee before with a little sugar in it. That would be nice, I think." I left her to minister to Bear and went into the kitchen with my mug. One of my ladyfriends had once referred to my mug as a binky. In other times and places I had always carried an extra canteen with coffee in it, but my Army-issue canteens never quite seemed appropriate Stateside, even though it seems nowadays as if every yuppie lugs some kind of a fancy water bottle around. When I returned with Ellen's coffee in a stoneware mug and mine in the same plastic, lidded mug, Ellen noted the difference. “Do you always use that same cup, even when you're home?" “I fix computers and make webpages in peoples’ homes and offices. Some people seem to think a rinse is as good as a wash, so I got in the habit of always having my own cup. No reason to dirty another one, even here." Ellen looked at her own cup and gave me a wry grin. “A good policy." “I'll get you one for your birthday, then, if you'll tell me when and where to send it. In the meantime, be assured that I really wash my dishes. Now, about proof..?" Ellen sipped her coffee and then looked at me. “What would you consider proof, short of a visit to the ship?" “Why short of a visit? I promise not to push any buttons." Ellen gave me a wry flicker of a grin. “A visit would require some rather special authorizations. What else would convince you?" “No idea. What can you offer? For that matter, why would you offer? I mean, really, why are you here

at all? You aren't worried about me mentioning you to the cops, are you? Lots of people around here think they've spotted aliens lately. I'd just be one more nutcase on the books if I said anything to anyone official." Ellen thought about things a bit, then said, “The first thing the other two Earth people asked was where we'd come from and why we're as human as anyone from Earth. You haven't. Why?" I shrugged. “I'm no astronomer. It wouldn't matter to me which piece of the sky you pointed to. You're human because you are, just as you'd be anything else if that were the case. I'm more concerned with why you're on Earth and why you, in particular, are sitting in my living room." Ellen patted Bear a few more times before answering. “I want to rent a room,” she said. “I don't know precisely how long I'll need it." “Why you and not Gary? Why not the two of you renting a place? Not that I'd mind having you here, of course. Just curious. Again." Ellen let out a sigh that sounded like a precursor to a confession and kept her eyes on her attentions to Bear as she spoke. “Only one of us will be assigned to this area and it was decided that I would stand a better chance in negotiations for your assistance." I had to laugh. “Well, that was probably a quick and easy decision. Someone must have mentioned that you had a rather positive effect on me." She lifted her head and stated, “Gary suggested that I be the one to approach you about local assistances. I could think of no reason not to do so, since you seemed very taken with me. And ... There was something about you ... I felt very comfortable with you without quite knowing why." I laughed again. “Gary was right. 'Very taken with you', huh? I want to show you something. Be right back." I went into the front bedroom and retrieved my sketchbook for her. “I design most of the things for sale on my WiccaWorks.com website,” I told her. “Goblets, tiles, and jewelry, all along one theme line for one audience. Lately I've been working on coming up with a caryatid to use as a goblet stem." Ellen seemed to reflect a moment, then said, “A figure of a woman used like a supporting column. I've seen them on some of your ancient buildings." “Right, and I recognize your definition as a direct quote from a dictionary. You must have one helluva memory, ma'am." “So I'm told.” Ellen leafed through the pages and said, “Arms. Legs. Shoulders and necks and faces. Very nice, but what are you showing me, exactly?" I grinned and turned to the last third of the sketchbook, where I'd assembled all the sketched body parts into whole women in various positions. “I'm showing you you, Ellen. They all have about the same height, weight, carriage, poise, and dignity. I've been trying to draft a perfect woman for my sculpture work and now she's sitting on my couch with my cat. You're her. She's you. You're my vision brought to life." Ellen sat gazing at one line-art version of herself with a different hairstyle. She turned the last few pages and saw more of the same, some sitting and some standing, but all still essentially the same, then turned to look at me.

“Of course,” I added, “Most women who play beach volleyball or who compete in the fitness pageants would also embody my vision pretty well." “I see." I added with a grin, “Yeah. Just so you know, that's all. I wouldn't want you to think I'm obsessed just with you. That might swell your head." She put a hand to the side of her face. “Might what?" “Just an expression. 'To get a swelled head' means to develop a big ego. I'd just hate to be the reason, of course.” I gave her a big grin as I said that. “That must be a joke,” said Ellen. “You don't seem at all regretful at the moment. I had no idea ... In the bar, I thought you were just..." “Just an ignorant local making a pass at you?" She nodded. “Well ... Yes. I thought you were just indicating an interest." I said, “Damned right I was. How could I not? My dream girl was playing pool with me. I tend to forget I'm not twenty-five anymore, you know. I figured my biggest risk was that you'd say 'no' in some manner, and I'd risk a helluva lot more than that for a chance to be with a woman like you." Ellen blushed. The redness in her face spread all the way to her shoulders. “Sorry,” I said. “I didn't mean to embarrass you, Ellen. I just tend to say whatever's on my little mind when I'm enthusiastic." She nodded quickly without raising her eyes from Bear. I waited until she looked up again to softly ask, “Now, why do you want to rent a room here, tourist lady? Why not a motel? What's your agenda?" Chapter Three Old training lectures were surfacing quickly for me. The words of one of the agency's intermediate honchos came to mind: 'When in the company of unknowns, be alert to all unusual offers of companionship. You may be called upon to accept and use such offers in the process of gathering information, but always be aware that they may be doing exactly the same thing with you. They will not send the ugly, innocent ones on such missions, so don't let your dicks or your egos override your common sense OR my boring security lectures.' Understand me, please. I'm a fifty-year-old ex-spook from the Cold War era. While I keep in shape to a degree and have most of my own teeth and hair left, I was nonetheless having a lot of trouble with the concept that this supposedly-alien vision of loveliness might somehow find me as attractive as I found her. Add that she was supposed to be from a culture that could build that ship and those odds seemed very remote, indeed. So it was that I awaited her answers with a large grain of skepticism. This didn't mean that I wouldn't rent her the room. Not at all. They were here and they'd make arrangements one way or another with or without my cooperation. The best I could do was to take what was offered and watch carefully, no matter where it turned out she was from. Ellen had looked as if she were relaxing a bit, but all of that disappeared in an instant as she sat very

straight and looked at me. “Agenda?” she asked in an arch tone. “Yeah. Agenda. Ulterior purpose. Reason for being in town. Reason for wanting me to think I may be blessed with a roomie like you. All that stuff." “A 'roomie'? Oh. Yes. Well, if I rent a room here you will have me as a roommate of sorts. Whether you choose to call that a blessing is up to you." I looked for a trace of humor in her face and words but found none. “Okay, Ellen,” I said. “I'll ask you the same questions I'd ask anyone else wanting to rent a room. One: Why are you in the area? Two: Can you actually pay the rent? Three: ... No, wait ... forget three. That one was about references, and I already know yours'd be hard to check." Ellen reached for her purse and pulled out a bank bag, then counted out and handed to me six thousand dollars in new hundred-dollar bills. “Will that answer your concerns about my finances for the next six months?" “That would answer closer to a year of my concerns.” I handed the money back to her. “If I decide you're staying I'll bang out a receipt on the computer later. Now, how about finally telling me why you're here, Ellen?" She resumed patting Bear and said, “Call it continuing education in general. I'll be part of a group of observers. This is actually the first time I've ever been to your world, so all that I know of it I've learned in classrooms or from a few of our Earthies, as they call themselves aboard ship. They're actually from Earth." “Uh, huh. Okay. That covers your being on Earth, but not your arrival in my living room this evening. Pardon my suspicious nature, but I just can't easily believe this sort of good fortune. You could obviously afford an apartment." Ellen gave me a steady gaze and said, “Believe it. I'm going to need a guide, Ed. An escort of sorts; someone who doesn't impress easily and won't be afraid to let me know when my raw edges are showing. A few people we've contacted have been inclined to treat us like gods or devils. You don't. Some of the others are working with various national leaders and making certain diplomatic arrangements, but none of those will be part of my particular group." I leaned forward slightly. “And...? What will your group be observing?" Ellen smiled slightly. “We'll be studying the actualities of your world, not what the diplomats would care to present. One of my first duties will be to acquire a library card and use it extensively. Gary and I are members of a team that will be monitoring the activities of our own people as well as yours, Ed." I laughed. “A library card. Good first move. Why didn't you get one when you got your driver's license and the registration for that Chevy?" She shrugged. “I wasn't present when Gary rented the car. We don't have driver's licenses. That would be one of the ways in which you might assist me." “How did you rent a car without a driver's license?" “Gary rented from an individual and he used quite a lot of money. That seems to be a way to get almost anything on Earth." I nodded. “Yeah, it usually is, I guess. You aren't printing your own money, are you? The authorities frown on that, you know."

When I grinned she grinned back. “Yes, Ed, we know. The money comes from surreptitious selling of information to companies through proxies. Watch for some relatively small and unexpected advances in several communications technologies in the near future." “Let me know if you need another proxy, ma'am. I wouldn't mind being rich. No, wait. I'd have to be able to explain how I came up with info like that without being an engineer of some sort. Maybe we could put a small item or two for sale on the Internet and build a business to create a continuous cash flow." “Wouldn't you have to explain those items somehow, too?" “No problem. Once your diplomatic people have squared things away you guys will be able to circulate and negotiate freely enough. Establish a production facility and a marketing facility and let the news media handle getting the word out. You won't need an advertising budget for a long while." Ellen sat gazing at me with a small smile, all the while patting Bear. As realization dawned, I said, “I just stated the obvious again, didn't I? You're here for the same reasons U.S. companies locate production facilities in Taiwan and Mexico, aren't you? Cheap labor. Cheap facilities." “Essentially,” said Ellen. “Earth will become a manufacturing facility if it is willing, yes, but you'll be using what you make for us and you'll be making contacts with some of the other worlds involved in this effort. If all goes well, you may eventually become independent, just as a number of other worlds have, and you'll no longer need us to represent you." I sat back in silence for a few moments, then said, “That makes my website idea sound pretty small, doesn't it? Oh, well, it would work well enough for me if I can snag a piece of all this for myself. Tell me, Ellen; how long does it usually take for a planet to become independent?" Her answer was quick and blunt. “Decades. If a planet agrees to host a facility, it must first satisfy all of our costs of establishment and development before it can claim independence. Until that time we control distribution." “And you decide when satisfaction is achieved? Isn't that a little subjective? This is a business deal. How would we be able to independently determine our income and rate of progress?" “Some of you will be employed in marketing. Those people will be interacting with other species and learning what is necessary. Others of your people will be charged with keeping track of your progress. These questions aren't new, Ed. They've been answered numerous times since this program was begun." I nodded. “Whatever. None of the big arrangements will be up to me, so let's get back to here and now. I'll print you a receipt for the money and show you your room, miLady. You wouldn't happen to have your bags with you, would you?" Ellen smiled. “No, no luggage tonight. I wasn't assuming anything. Gary will bring me here tomorrow with my things." I nodded again. “Well, I guess I could introduce you to people as a woman I picked up in a bar one night, but I really think we need a better story than that." Ellen actually laughed. “Yes, please. A better story is needed." There was a lull in conversation that went on for several moments. Something had occurred to me that I thought worth mentioning, but I wanted to think on it a bit before bringing it up. I turned on the computer and started typing out a receipt for the six thousand, but Ellen interrupted me.

“I don't need a receipt, Ed. My entire stay with you will be unofficial." I looked at her for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. What time tomorrow will you be here?" “Would late tomorrow morning be too soon?" “No, that'll give me time to clean your room and empty the closet for you." A double beep emanated from her wristwatch. The sound startled Bear, but not enough to make him jump down. He stretched slightly to sniff the watch and then looked at me. “No sweat, Bear,” I said. “Just a gadget." Bear looked dubiously back at the watch and sniffed it again, then settled. Ellen stroked him a couple of times and looked up at me. “He trusts you a great deal. These watches have upset some animals." “Bear wasn't upset or you'd have known it by the marks on your legs when he jumped off you. He just wanted to see if I agreed with his opinion." Ellen was grinning as she stroked Bear's chin. His contented little face looked up into hers and he said, “Yahh!", which made Ellen laugh. “Now it's as if he's agreeing with you." “More likely he was responding to eye-contact with you. Hey, Bear? You having a good time over there?" Bear heard his name and turned to look at me. He said, “Yahh!", which made Ellen laugh again. “He still sounds as if he's answering you." I shrugged. “Maybe he is. He's seventeen and he's been hearing English from me all that time. Maybe he just has trouble making the words." The double beep sounded again. Ellen touched the side of the watch and said, “Ellen here." “Gary,” said the voice. “I'm ready when you are." Conveniently as hell, too, I thought. Every word we'd spoken had probably been overheard and recorded somewhere. Ellen told him to pick her up and finished her coffee. When she stood up we saw all the cat hair on her skirt. “Bear,” I said, “You're coming apart like a cheap rug." Ellen chuckled and said something about there being many things to learn that hadn't been covered in her studies. I retrieved a brush from the bedroom and we got most of the hair off her lap before Gary arrived. He came to the door—probably for a quick look at the place—and I invited him in, but he said there was another stop to make on the way. Ellen shook my hand and thanked me for my cooperation before she left. With a smile, she said, “I'll see what I can find that will serve as proof." I watched as they backed out of my driveway and headed East on Northcliffe Boulevard, then went

back into the house and in total silence retrieved from my bedroom an old metal lunchbox that contained—among other artifacts of my past—a green, government-issue memo book. “Old Bear,” I said to my cat, “That lady stirred me up a bit. I'm gonna go bike some of it off, I think. You have the conn ’til I get back." Bear, having been addressed, replied, “Yahh!" I locked up, checked the tires on my Huffy 18-speed mountain bike, put the lunchbox in the handlebar pouch, and powered down the driveway slope, trenching fat tire tracks in the sand that had built up at the bottom after the last rain. That's the main reason I'd traded an old hard drive for the bike. Fat tires. Deep sand slowed you down but didn't stop you the way it would with skinny tires. I think I probably never used more than five of the rear gears. On my way to the phone booth outside the grocery store at the end of Northcliffe, the big silver ship hanging over the gulf reflected the bright moonlight as a dot of brightness so low in the sky that almost any tree could block it. I hadn't wanted to call from the house or take the car, either of which might have been bugged. I put a buck in the drink machine for a twenty-five cent off-brand, then put another buck in for another drink. That netted me six quarters plus the four I had left from playing pool. I was ready to make some calls. The names and numbers in the book were real enough. They belonged to companies in several states. I'd picked them to list as entries because the last seven digits of each company's phone number were the same as the N. Virginia numbers I might one day have reason to call. The numbers were home or office numbers of some of the people I'd worked with years ago. Two of them were toll-free numbers, identified as such by dashes placed next to each of them. I called one of those first. After being rerouted once, a woman came on who said simply, “Code, please." I punched in “DRAGONFLY” and the # key on the keypad and waited. The woman came back on and said, “Pass, please." “Stachel, Bruno." “Which office or officer, please?" “I've been offline reserve for a few years. You have my specs on your screen, so I'll let you make a recommendation for a non-emergency situation." She instantly came back with, “Transferring you now. Hold, please." Another woman picked up on the first ring. In a very business-like manner, she said, “Mr. Stachel, I'm Alice. What can I do for you this evening?" “Something's come up. I want someone who can reactivate my membership to call me back at this number. I'm at a pay phone and I'll wait for the call." “You're asking a lot at this hour. May I ask why you need reactivated?" “If you can't do it you'll have to find out from someone who can. Sorry. And make a note not to let anyone call me at home for the time being. I'm going to have a grey guest for a while." 'Grey' was what we used to call our unverified contacts. Alice immediately said, “Stand by one, Stachel. I'll wake him up for you." A few rings later she handed me off to a guy calling himself Marshall. I told him where I was calling

from, then told him about my blonde visitor. “No shit? She'll be staying with you? And she looks a bit like Kim Basinger? Damn! Your tail must be wagging pretty hard right now, Stachel. Why'n hell do you think she picked you? Do you think she's for real?" “Reactivate me and maybe I can find out. There's money involved, so for all I know at present this may only be some kind of new twist on an old con game. Heard anything solid about aliens doing anything on a local basis?" “Haven't heard a thing. Hey, guy, we only have one problem here. This might not be our jurisdiction. We may have to hand it off to the FBI." I sighed. “If I can't work with the people who already know me we'll just forget this and everybody can do their own thing. I'll report to you guys and you can take the info from there." “That's not my call, Stachel, and once you're active, it won't be yours, either. One second, here ... Okay. You're active again, but bear in mind that you've been offline for several years. I'll get someone to look this over and second it in the morning. Some of the names in your file are still on active, so one of them can do it. I'm trying to reach two of them now." “Good enough. I probably won't need much right away. I'll check in using this number every two or three days unless things change. If I'm under duress when I call, I'll find a way to slip in a reference to Fulda." “Fulda. Got it. Wait one ... Just got one of the guys out of bed. I'm gonna patch him in on this." A new voice came on the line that was at the same time a familiar voice. “Clark here,” he said. “Talk to me." “Stachel here,” I said. There was a moment's silence, then, “Stachel? No shit? How long has it been? Jesus, it must be more than ... eight years? Is there an emergency?" “No, Clark, not that I know of. Nice to hear you're still there. I only ever trusted about four people in the government after John died and you were one of them. I'm living on the west coast of Florida now, practically in the shadow of that space ship, and I'm into something and thought I might need help. Marshall can play the tape for you. Right now I just need a second name on the reactivation." “Probably no problem. Let me hear the tape first, though. Play it, Marshall." Clark listened to a playback of the call. “You got it,” he said. “You're active. I'll sign it in the morning. Here's another number for you, too. It goes straight to my office and someone will pick up day or night. If we have to let the FBI in we'll do it at this end and I'll be the liaison." I scribbled the number in my book and asked Marshall to find me a company somewhere to use as a cover entry, which he did almost instantly. “Good enough. If I'm out of contact more than three consecutive days without making other arrangements, send in a team. If I use the word Fulda for any reason in one of these conversations, I need help but can't talk freely." “Fulda. Got it. I'd like an ID check, too. Numbers." “Okay. Make it twenty-two on even days, fifty on odd days. Also, if you need to contact me, just call and ask for the manager. I'll say this isn't the video store and that you need to dial 686 instead of 596,

then I'll call you back when I can." A number check was a simple sentry trick. If approached by someone claiming to be from my outfit, I'd ask for verification by giving a number. Their answer would have to combine with my number to make the right total for that day. Clark said, “Got it. Good enough. Anything else?" “Other than the fact that they may know every move I make and may even know a little about my past with the company? That they may have expected me to do exactly what I did tonight and may want to use me as a funnel? Nope. Not a thing. I'll just assume I'm never quite completely alone and act accordingly." “You seem to have a handle on things, Stachel. Okay, then. Nice hearing from you again. We'll have to reminisce over a drink sometime." “Sounds good to me. Okay, I'm gone for now, guys." As I hung up I could imagine Clark saying, “Play it again, Marshall. A copy on my desk first thing. Run an update on him. We don't want any surprises." Chapter Four My then-girlfriend Diana had moved back to Atlanta, Georgia, some months before in order to avoid losing a fat little college scholarship that she'd already stalled almost two years. A round-trip drive to visit her after she moved consumed 16 hours of a weekend. Diana was 24 at the time and more than half the students were male. In keeping with the way these things usually go, the frequency of our visits and phone calls tapered down over time. One evening we both admitted wanting to date and that was that for our previous relationship. We're still friends today because we could discuss the matter before discussions became an aftermath of actions. I called Diana that evening and after spending a few moments discussing the ship just offshore, confessed that I was renting “her” room to a blonde female I'd met at a bar. She laughed. “It was never my room, you bozo. You always came up to my house to get away from telephones and use my hot tub. Is she pretty?" “Damned right she is. That's why I'm calling you, Di. I need a reality check from someone who knows that turf. She looks to be in about her mid-twenties. What does a woman your age see in a man my age?" “A-ha. I thought so. Did she make a pass at you?" “Nope. She rented a room from me. I was just thinking ahead a bit." Diana giggled. “Are you asking me to help you plot your way into her pants, Ed? I don't know if that's really ethical. It might be against the International Woman's Club rules or something." “Funny lady. No, if I get in her pants it will be by my own sparkling personality and good looks. What I'm asking you is more along the lines of why she might find me attractive when she's working in a place with people her own age." There was a pause, then Diana said, “Younger men can be stupid and boring and as shallow as puddles, Ed. Remember when you told me why you didn't hook up with that woman from Brooksville after you

broke up with Karen? You said she had the face and body of a goddess, but the brain of a greedy puppy. You said she had an ego bigger than Texas and the personality of a badger if you crossed her. Your closing words were, 'looks damned sure aren't everything' or something like that." Oh, yeah. I remembered Lily very well, indeed. Someone at the bar had told her I was worth half a million since a lottery win. She'd flirtingly attached herself to me for the evening, as expected, until around closing time, when the jokester had asked me how often I played the Lotto. When I'd said I never bothered with the Lotto, Lily had realized she'd been the evening's entertainment. Her temper tantrum ended with the jokester on the floor with a broken nose. Lily had a nasty temper and probably still has one. “Di,” I said, “Those were your reasons, and you knew me for more than a few hours before we got together." “What do you want to hear, Ed? My reasons are the only ones I know well enough to offer as a possible explanation. If you're looking for encouragement to go after her, consider yourself encouraged. If you're questioning your desirability, don't bother. That's one of those 'personal preference' things. If you're questioning something else entirely, what is it, exactly?" I didn't want to tell her that I thought Ellen might be an alien with an ulterior motive for allowing my advances. Diana could be irrational as hell in her own right, but she expected much better of me and the rest of the world. I could imagine her arriving in the morning to try to talk me into seeing a doctor. “Di, every hustler and con artist on the east coast seems to make at least one trip through Florida. This arrangement has been too sudden and unusual to suit me, that's all. Add to that my natural weakness for tall blondes. I just felt I needed to recalibrate my sensors, you know?" I'd used a common technobabble phrase from a popular TV show for Di's benefit. She was a fan of the show in any of its incarnations. “Ah,” said Di. “Indeed so, Captain. One hand for your ship and the other for your beer, and all that. Proceed with caution. So you're just saying you're interested in her but you aren't sure why she decided to rent a room there?" “You boiled it down, ma'am." “Well, what would you tell me, Ed, if the situation were reversed?" “I'd tell you that I knew that question was coming. Okay, then, I'll give it some more thought. So, what's happening in your world, lady?" Diana spent the next fifteen minutes or so telling me about college life. It didn't sound too different from when I was in college all those ages ago. The guy she was seeing seemed to be an okay sort by her description and I said so. She quickly told me that she was only dating him and that there were no other plans. We rang off with a mutual hope that we could spend some time together soon. I spent the rest of the evening cleaning up the house a bit and Ellen's room in particular. That bedroom had always been the no-smoking room for my mother's yearly visits and other infrequent guests. Between visitors, it had been used as a staging and short-storage area for WiccaWorks products in various stages of clay-to-finished-stoneware manufacture. Once Sharon had moved in with Allan and WiccaWorks had it's own shop facility I'd had the house to myself, but I hadn't had reason to do much more than toss a few things in the room that had been taking up space elsewhere.

By midnight I was finished, or finished enough. Ellen's room was clean and neat and the closet and dresser were empty. Really cleaning the rest of the house could be a joint venture or my own part-time project for a while. I set the alarm clock for eight and hit the sack. Eight came, then nine. Ten arrived with no Ellen. It didn't really matter, since I'd made no plans for the day, but I was beginning to wonder if she'd had second thoughts about the deal. I spent the time cleaning the house on general principles and had managed to fill all three trash cans with odd items by noon. I had just swung two of the big plastic trash cans on my shoulders and was heading for the curb with them when the green Chevy turned into my driveway. 'Great,' I thought. 'Her first daylight sight of me and I'm hauling garbage.' Ellen stepped out of the car and asked if the other trash can was ready to go. “I'll get it...” I said, but before I could say anything more, Ellen reached for the trash can. She tugged it up once to check the weight, then slung it on her shoulder as I had and carried it easily to the curb. “You're a strong lady,” I said. “I like that." Her face flickered slightly with concern. “Is it unusual for a woman to display strength here?" I shrugged and said, “I don't see it often, but it happens. The image they try to sell most is 'soft and pretty', but please don't change to suit the advertising world. I like you just fine as 'strong and beautiful'." She flicked her eyebrows up at me with a grin and asked, “Have you changed your mind since last night, or am I still renting a room?" “I cleaned and prepped into the wee hours, ma'am. I was hoping you hadn't changed your mind about moving in. Would have been a lot of work for nothing." She was wearing blue jeans, sneakers, and a western-style shirt. Or was it a blouse because the buttons were right-over-left? Her eyes caught mine looking her over and she grinned again. “I thought you might be in a cleaning frenzy, so I dressed for helping." “A frenzy? Me? Did the house look that bad last night, or are you just a very good judge of people?" “I'm a good judge of people, of course. If the house had been too dirty I wouldn't have rented the room." I nodded. “Good save, there. I'll try not to inadvertently corner you like that again. You know, you look damned wonderful by daylight, too. That must be why I'm chattering like this. It's because I don't have a tail to wag." Ellen laughed and took my arm to lead me to the car. Gary had been unloading her luggage and had all but two small bags out of the back seat. Ellen picked those bags up and one of the larger ones and Gary and I brought the others as we followed her into the house. I offered them refreshments and showed them around the house a bit, then Gary said he had to be elsewhere in a little while and excused himself. As he pulled away, I asked Ellen how she intended to get around town. “No car?" “No car yet, Ed. If you're ready to begin being my escort and guide, we can do something about that as soon as I have a driver's license."

“They're going to want some kind of ID before they issue you more ID, Ellen." She went to her purse and pulled out an envelope. “Will these do?" I looked through several documents that included a birth certificate from Iowa for an ‘Ellen McMasters’ and a Social Security card. “No idea if they'll do or not, Ellen. Where'd you get them?" “One of our people put them together. He seemed to think they'd be good enough for my needs." I wrote down the name and Social Security number. “What are you doing?” she asked. “I'll run a global search on these bits of info and see what comes back,” I said, turning on the computer. “If I can't turn up anything that doesn't necessarily mean the government types can't, but it would be a good sign if the name and birth certificate could withstand a deep genealogy search." Ellen looked a bit pensive as I entered the name and other info into a temporary-text file so I could copy and paste as needed. I opened three separate browser windows for the three main genealogy search engines and entered the name, then opened a global search engine page and entered all but the first three digits of the Social Security number. I handed her the paper I'd written the info on and closed the temp-text window without saving the info. The text program I'd used was an antique from the early days of PC-DOS computing. It opened and closed its own temporary files in its own subdirectory (nowadays euphemistically called a ‘folder') rather than using the ‘TEMP’ directory as today's programs almost universally do. When the session was over I could rename the temporary-text file and save the info. The program would make a new temp file when it didn't find the old one, but as far as Ellen could know (I hoped) the info file was gone, overwritten in the usual method by the next block of info pulled off the Internet. Half an hour later we abandoned the effort. The McMasters surname came up often, but there were no solid matches of names, dates, places, and other such details. The part of the Social Security number I'd entered came up on eleven credit-check sites, but none of the prefixes matched. “Well, ma'am,” I said, “Unless they look where we can't, I'd say that stuff'll probably get you a driver's license." In the reflection of the glass-front cabinet I saw Ellen watching me shut down the computer and unplug the modem to prevent thunderstorm damage. She glanced at the envelope in her hand and then put it back in her purse in silence. When I turned to face her, she quietly asked, “You don't have any difficulty with the idea of helping me with this?" “Help? I'm afraid I won't be much help. You're the one who has to test and sign for the license and you'll do it anyway, with or without me." “That doesn't answer my question." I sighed and sat down in the computer chair. “Why are you asking that question, Ellen? Why do you seem to need to know whether it bothers me that I'm helping you to get a fake ID? After handing me cash to rent a room for a few months, apparently to avoid signing in anywhere, why are you at all concerned with how I feel about all this?" She maintained her level gaze at me. “I just am,” she said.

“Well, then, just be,” I said. “I have my reasons, and they don't add up to your rent money or your legs. I think you're beautiful, but that's not the reason I'm going along with your program, either." “Then why are you ... 'going along'?” she asked. “To see where it leads,” I said. “To see if you're real or not. You're an adventure of sorts at a time when I need one." She sat gazing at me, apparently waiting for more. “Ellen, you could be a pretty grifter who has simply come here to screw the locals out of some money, or you could be an international spook of some sort needing to be as near the ship as possible, or you could be a number of other things, including what you say you are; an alien setting up to monitor everybody." Ellen said nothing. She put her purse aside and settled back on the couch as if to listen to a story. I rattled off the info and Social Security number I'd written earlier and said, “If you ask me in twenty years, I'll be able to tell you that info. I don't forget stuff. If you're a grifter and you pull a scam, you'd better lose that ID instantly because I'll give the info to the cops. If you're a spook and you do something nefarious, the same thing happens. Prove you're what you say you are and everything's cool." “So we're back to getting you some proof?" “We never left that zone, ma'am. As much as I'd love to believe you're from that fancy ship out there, I need some proof. Otherwise, you're just a rather nice-looking woman who rented a room here. Could be you're a runaway wife or a wanna-be movie starlet who intends to pull a publicity stunt that will make her a name she can take to the bank later. Could be you and Gary are gonna try to rob a few banks. How the hell should I know?" A small smile formed on her lips. “We are definitely not bank robbers, Ed." “Kewl Beenz, Ellen. Glad to hear it. We can rule out your being surf bums, too, because in this part of the gulf the surf is just about nonexistent." Motion beyond the open front door caught my attention. A car with one of those magnetic signs on the door pulled into the driveway of the empty house four doors up the block and a man and two women got out of it. The stocky woman who got out on the driver's side was wearing a bright red blazer. The man and other woman were in casual clothes. The Decker house had been empty for three months due to a messy divorce action. In those three months I'd seen only a few lookers checking out the property. It was in rough condition and the price was a bit high, yet here were a pair of shoppers the very morning after I'd checked in with control. “Ed?" I turned back to Ellen. “Hmm? Sorry, Ellen. I was just wondering how many screaming brats they'll add to the neighborhood. Sometimes I'd like to move way out in the country and dig a moat around a hundred acres or so." “You don't like children?" I noted that she hadn't asked if I had any of my own. Most people ask that, rather than if I like kids or not. They just assume that a man my age has spawned at some time. I looked for her opinions in her face and found none. “I prefer that they be in someone else's vicinity at all times."

Her eyebrow raised at that and she nodded slightly as she leaned back on the couch. Bear jumped into her lap and wadded himself to fit and Ellen's hand moved to stroke him. I waited to see if she'd comment further, but she didn't. “Ellen, why did you and Gary pick me?" Both her eyebrows went up at that. “Could you be more specific?" “Sure I could, but why waste time going through the motions? Let's drop all the pretense. I just want to know how and why you decided to use me. You can't really have considered me the best candidate for an escort or landlord. I figure you were working from a list of some sort and location played a big part in choosing." Ellen said nothing as she looked at me. She hadn't quite frozen completely; her hand was still mechanically petting Bear. I reached over and tapped her watch with a fingernail. “Hey, Gary, how about ringing in on this? If I knew why you picked me I might be more useful." I let the motion continue into a skritching of Bear's chin. The moments of silence stretched out between Ellen and me and I began to wonder if I might have been mistaken about Gary monitoring us through her watch. Her gaze was unfalteringly calm as she watched me. There was a slight clicking sound and Gary's voice came from Ellen's watch. “I'm doing three things at once here and I can't get away at the moment. Tell him what he wants to know, Ellen. We've only reached this point in things a little sooner than we'd expected." Ellen never took her eyes off me as she answered. “I'll tell him." “I'll leave the link open." Chapter Five “First,” said Ellen, “The why. We search for potential client worlds who are on the verge of space travel. They're worlds advanced enough to understand and want what we're offering and capable of eventual independent success. When we think we've found one, we send observers who remain on the planet as long as required to validate or invalidate the planet's readiness. If the planet is judged ready, we send a ship like the one you've seen." I nodded. “It's too big not to be carrying the makings of a factory or two, so I'll guess that if negotiations go well you can set up shop immediately, right?" “Right. Earth will become a training center and a source of personnel for self-contained factories near this system's asteroid belt. We will train some of your people and provide the beginnings of the industries. It will be up to Earth to replicate the manufacturing facilities and train further personnel. Our involvement in the manufacturing processes will end the day your first replicated factory is functional and producing quality goods consistently. From that moment on we will simply market what is produced." I thought a moment. “Our space program isn't even close to being up to this. Are you going to run a shuttle service or give us the means to get out there?" Ellen smiled. “You aren't going to be fruit pickers or day laborers, Ed. We won't be taking you to and from work in trucks. You'll be using what you'll be making and that will be our short-range shuttle craft. The first factory will be here on Earth. The first replicated factory will be near the asteroid belt.

People of Earth will receive factory plans, necessary parts and hands-on guidance, and nothing more." It sounded reasonable enough to me. “Ellen, let's leave the rest of the details of business setup for later. What brings you to my door out of all the possible doors on Earth?" She smiled and said, “This will frustrate you, Ed. I don't know. I didn't choose you and neither did Gary. We were simply told to try to arrange something with you and it seemed that I'd have the best chance with you. Who picked you and how they picked you is a mystery to me, too." Gary's voice emanated from her watch. “Before you ask ... I don't know either, Ed. Contacting you was just part of a list of things we were given to do." Unfortunately, their explanation made some sense to me. How many times had I been given the task of locating someone behind the Iron Curtain without much, if any, explanation? I had simply passed the info or whatever else was intended for them and made my way back to the West. I asked, “What are the chances of finding out why I was picked?" “Poor at the moment,” said Gary. “The decision was made before we left. We were told to make contact with you and to try to recruit you for local assistance if you seemed of sound mind and body. If you weren't amenable or were unable, there were two backup names." Ellen was still smiling at me, but now it was a small, 'wish-we-could-help-you' sort of smile. I asked, “When were you going to let me in on things and put me on your payroll, Gary? Weeks or months from now, or when I finally caught on?" “We were going to try some time with you and see how things went first. It probably wouldn't have been months. From the way things have gone already, I don't think whoever picked you expected it to take long, either." I nodded and thought a moment. “I'm going to get a coffee, Ellen. Want one?" She was moderately surprised, but she said, “Yes, thank you." I grabbed my cup and headed for the kitchen. If Ellen and Gary weren't just con artists looking for a mark, then someone, somewhere, knew me or knew of me. How they might have known was irrelevant for the moment. As I made our coffees, I decided to proceed as if that someone knew all there was to know about me, even if Ellen and Gary didn't, but suddenly that didn't add up right. I'd never gone into the East to work with a local hire without knowing something about him or her. When I'd handed Ellen her coffee and sat down again, I said, “Bullshit." Ellen was startled, even though I'd spoken softly. I said it again. “Bullshit, people. Open up to me or finish your coffee and go try the next guy on your backup list." There was dead silence as I sipped my coffee. Bear realized something was up and looked at me with the beginnings of alarm. When I said nothing to reassure him, he looked up at Ellen, but she was looking hard at me. Bear jumped down and came to sit on the floor next to my left foot. A female voice came from Ellen's watch. It said, “Well, damn, Ed, I guess I can stop wondering about you, can't I? Once a spook, always a spook." It took me a moment to recognize a voice I hadn't heard for many years. “Linda?” I asked. “Linda of many moons ago and spook central, Germany?"

“I'm flattered,” she said, but she sounded somewhat irritated. “Linda, why didn't you just contact me yourself? Why all the games?" “Do you really have to ask, Ed? How long have you been out of the business?" “Not long enough to miss spotting your two ringers, miLady." Ellen looked at me questioningly. “We aren't phonies,” she said. “The hell you aren't. Aliens or not, you weren't being straight with me." Linda said, “Whatever. It doesn't matter now, Ed. Gary will pick you two up tonight and you can drop by my office." “Where's your office and how long will I be gone?" “You'll be aboard the ship for three days or so. I presume you're thinking about your antique cat? Three days at most. Dump his box and fill his dishes. He can get by without you for that long, can't he?" “Probably, but I'm bringing him with me. He's seventeen years old, Linda." “We don't have any facilities for pets up here, Ed.” She was using that 'Be-reasonable-and-just-do-as-Isay' tone I'd always disliked so much. “Will my room have a bathroom? If so, no sweat. I'll bring the necessities." “Goddamn it, Ed, can't you just leave him with someone?" I sighed. “Linda, I'm bringing my cat. Someday I'll try to explain if you'll listen, but for now, I'm just bringing my cat with me." Ellen was grinning at me. She was blatantly enjoying the exchange. I heard Linda's exasperated sigh. “This is essentially a job interview, Ed. Would you take your cat to a job interview?" “This is a three-day briefing, not a job interview, and Bear comes, too." “You're being deliberately difficult, Ed. We may have to reconsider you." “Spare me the manipulatory dialogue, Linda. You had a reason for choosing me and sending people to check me out. If you didn't think I could do what you'll need done you wouldn't be talking to me now. To you he's just a cat. To me he's my own personal Bear and he's so old he poots dust. I don't like the idea of not being there for him and I'm not leaving him alone in the house for three days." I heard Linda's muttered, "Jesus!" and Ellen's stifled giggle. She exaggeratedly mouthed the words at me, "Poots dust?" I shrugged and nodded. “Just an expression,” I said. Ellen was trying not to let her laughter out. Linda's curt voice came back with, “All right, bring the damned cat, Ed. Just make sure you bring whatever else it needs, too." “Will do, ma'am. Didn't mean to make you cranky." There was silence for a moment, then Gary came back on. “She's gone, and I think she's a little upset. I didn't think those chairs could move that fast." I looked at Ellen. “Chairs?” I asked. “You mean like a scooter for getting around on a ship that size?" Ellen's expression turned to one of concern.

“Uh, no. Not a scooter, Ed. You didn't know she uses a wheelchair?" I was slightly shocked. “It's news to me,” I said. “What happened?" Gary said, “A car accident near Washington six years ago. She's paralyzed from the waist down, Ed. That's one of the reasons she's living and working on the ship. Our doctors are going to try to repair some of the damage." I thought about Linda's pride in her long, graceful legs and my fascination with them so many years ago. She'd been fond of jogging in the mornings. I said, “I'd appreciate it very much if you'd make that one of your priorities." “It already is,” said Gary. “Preliminary examinations seem to indicate a strong chance of success. Maybe as high as eighty percent restoration." I nodded. “Good. Very good. What time will you pick us up?" “It gets dark around seven,” said Gary. “We're trying not to be too obvious about shuttle flights for the time being." “Good,” I said. “That gives me time to run to the grocery store. I'll pick up a smaller pan and some litter for Bear and maybe a few snackies for myself. Do you guys have Dr. Pepper aboard that boat?" Ellen laughed. “You'd better get some before we go. I don't think I've seen that on the menu, but we do have coffee now." “You might want to come along,” I said. “There isn't much to eat in this house that doesn't come in a can marked 'soup'. We need to make a list." Ellen agreed and the project got underway. I called my neighbor and told her I'd be visiting friends for a few days and that I'd be taking Bear with me. She said she'd keep an eye on the house for me. On the way to the store I pretended to hear something from the engine and checked the oil before going into the store. I bought a can of oil additive and told Ellen I'd be right back. She was pushing the shopping cart through the produce area as I went out. My first stop was the car. I opened the hood and left it that way as I went to the phone booth. I went through a quick ID and Clark came on the line. After filling him in on everything, I went to the car and dumped in the can of additive, then headed back into the store. Ellen was reading labels in the middle of the baking goods aisle as I tossed the additive container in a register trash can and grabbed a paper towel for my hands. I read the box in her hand as I walked up to her and asked if we were going to be having a devil's food cake anytime soon. She put the box back on the shelf and said, “If we buy one from the deli, yes. I've just decided that I'm not going to be baking very often." “Damned right. That's how I feel about cooking in general." “I can see why. Food preparation isn't what I want to do with my time." By general consensus we settled on mostly canned goods and packaged goods that could be zapped in the microwave and were just about finished when Ellen's watch beeped twice. She responded by touching one of the buttons twice and we continued shopping until the list was complete. Once we were inside the car she tapped the watch button again. Gary's voice came on immediately. “Ed, are you there?" “Of course I'm here. Where else would I be?"

“Making another phone call, perhaps. Hold for Linda." Linda came on almost instantly and her tone was acid. “We know you called Clark last night and today, Ed. We had to bring him into this to keep it quiet. Is there anyone else we need to contact to avoid leaks?" They must have been keeping tabs on the agencies’ communications. “Just my way of playing it safe, Linda. Like you said, it's been years. I thought I might need some extra support. Until I'm sure I don't, I'll keep a card or two up my sleeve for emergencies. You wouldn't mind if I call Clark and see how he feels about all this now that you've talked to him, would you?" Linda sounded tired. “Oh, hell, no. Of course not. Call the FBI and the Kremlin while you're at it, Ed. I thought maybe hearing from me would..." I interrupted her. “Last night I didn't know you were involved when I set something up. Today you're a voice coming from a goddamned wristwatch speaker, and how do I know you aren't some kind of special effect? Anyway, I had to call in order to keep them from coming looking for me when I'd been out of touch three days. Beyond all that, I reserve the right to trust, but verify." The silence from Ellen's wristwatch seemed to have a cold quality to it. “Linda? Show me where I'm wrong. Put yourself in my position as a solo operative having to improvise in the field. Until I have proof, I'm having to guess. If you can't or won't see that, I don't want any part in this operation. At the moment I have no way of knowing who you're working for these days." The silence continued for another couple of moments, then Linda spoke again. “Call Clark. Verify whatever your little heart seems to think needs to be verified. But you'd better damned well start hearing me, Ed. Right now." This Linda and the Linda I'd known in Europe were very different personalities. “And you hear this, Linda. Fuck you and your attitude and Gary's new mission tonight is to pick up Ellen and her luggage. Over and out and byebye." I parked the car by the phone booth, pulled Ellen out of the car, and held her wristwatch up by my face as I called Clark. Before I could utter a word, he said, “Ed, it's real. Linda's real. All of it's real." I said, “It was real, Clark. I still don't know what they want me for and Linda's turned into a ten-point bitch. I don't need that kind of shit and I just bailed. They can get somebody else." “You what?! You can't bail on something like this!" “Dunnit, Clark. Told her to fuck off when she barked at me." “Oh, good-god-damn! Where are you now?" “Why do you want to know? Would somebody get real about all this? I'm not the guy for whatthehellever is going on, Clark. I'm going home and I'm gonna toss everybody out and I'm gonna read a book or something. It's over, okay?" Clark went ballistic. “No, it's not okay! You're in this up to your ass already!" “Then I'm getting out while I can. Bye, Clark. Nice talking with you again." I hung up and said, “Let's get back to the house and get you ready to go, Ellen. I expect we may have

some company soon, and unless somebody's real nice to me I'm going to throw the whole damned lot of you out." Ellen was staring at me. I walked to the car and opened the door for her. “Are you walking or riding, ma'am?" She stepped over and got in, looking up at me oddly as I closed her door. As I started the car, she asked, “What if you can't get out, Ed?" I looked across at her and said, “Take off that watch for a few minutes, Ellen." “I don't think so,” she said. “Not after all that." “We'll lock it in the trunk and I'll give you the key. I just want to say something without the extra audience." Gary's voice said, “No. Don't even think about it. He may be dangerous." “If I'm dangerous enough to hurt her, do you think one of these damned watches will stop me?" “Don't do it, Ellen." I leaned over and grinned, then kissed her hand. “Do it, Ellen. If I do anything to you they'll come looking for me anyway." Ellen thought about it a moment, then took off the watch. I went around and got the door for her, then opened the trunk. She set the watch inside and I closed the lid, then handed her the keys before I walked back toward the store. Ellen quickly caught up with me. I said, “If I decide I want out, I'll get out." “What?” Ellen shook her head. “I thought you just quit!" “Nope. I'd love to tour that ship. What I just did was invite everybody to back off and rethink their approach. Besides, they don't give up that easily." Ellen grinned and asked, “Aren't you afraid I'll tell them what you just said as soon as I put the watch back on?" “Nope. Tell them or don't. Same thing to me at this point, ma'am. I won't be treated that way. That means either they improve their attitudes or I quit." Ellen shook her head again in confusion. “If it doesn't matter, why did you have me take the watch off and why are you telling me all this?" “I'm just messing with them a little. You can say you took a calculated risk to try to gain a bit of info. Right now you couldn't drive a pencil into Gary's rectum with a hammer. He's all clenched up. Linda is facing the possibility that I actually won't take her attitude, which is and has been the truth. She has to decide if that makes me unemployable. Clark is in a panic for the moment because if I quit, he's probably lost the possibility of a part in all this. Linda or others could simply tell him to sit down and shut up about it." Ellen had giggled shortly at the image of hammering the pencil, but she only grinned as she said, “I'd really rather you wouldn't quit, Ed. This has been a very interesting afternoon." “We'll see how it goes, ma'am. As I said, I'd risk a lot to be with a woman like you. I guess I'd be willing to put up with a lot of Linda's crap to be with you, too." Ellen laughed and said, “And I told you that it would be up to you to decide whether having me as a

roomie was a blessing. I'm not perfect, you know." “You're as close to perfect as I've ever met, miLady. Someday, when I get over my terrible shyness problem, I'll ask you for a kiss just to see if I'm right." “Don't wait,” said Ellen. “Do it now. Verify." I nodded, then stepped in to kiss her. When I felt her arm move, I almost wanted to dance away out of her striking range, but I stifled the wariness. Ellen's arm settled around me and the kiss lingered for another moment. When we parted, I said, “Thank you, Miz Alien Lady. That was very nice. You do, indeed, seem to be perfect." “You're not bad, yourself, Earthman. Maybe there's hope for your planet." “Well, if it turns out that there isn't, you'll at least save me for yourself, won't you?" “Oh, of course. Certainly." “Kewl. Want your watch back now? We should really be getting ready for company, just in case I'm not completely fired and forgotten." Ellen handed me the keys to open the trunk. As the lid came up, we could hear Gary saying, “Ellen? Is that you?" She picked up the watch and said, “It's me. He didn't tell me anything useful." Gary started to say something about never taking off the watch and Ellen put her hand over it as she grinned at me. “I never liked having to wear one of these,” she said. “I can see why. No privacy at all." We drove back to the house. I took a shower, then put three steaks on the outdoor grill while Ellen showered. Ellen was still inside the house and the steaks were almost done when Gary sped around the corner and into the driveway. He looked angry as he marched up to me. I pointed the tines of a long-handled fork at him and he warily stopped a couple of feet away from me. I said, “Take it easy. She's inside. So are the plates. Stir up the salad to move the Italian dressing around and put some on three plates, then bring me the platter out of the dishwasher. The steaks ought to be about done by then." He started to say something, but Ellen appeared at the screen door in a terrycloth robe with her hair wrapped in a towel. “Hi, Gary. Why are you so early?" “I was ... worried about you." Ellen looked puzzled. “Why? I've had the watch on all this time. You could hear everything that was happening or being said." As I turned the steaks over, I said, “He wasn't so much worried about you as pissed off at me. Get the plates ready if you're going to have a steak with us, Gary, but bring out the platter first. I think they're about done now." Gary glared at me briefly, but Ellen opened the screen door for him and told him everything was on the

kitchen table. He gave up and went inside. During dinner Gary was grinning as he asked, “Well, Ed, are you satisfied? You were able to talk to Clark and he confirmed that everything was real." I reached for more salad and said, “He only confirmed that he thinks so." Gary glanced at Ellen, who shrugged and kept eating her salad. When he looked back at me, I said, “I'll let you know when I think so." Gary looked exasperated as he said, “Now you're just being difficult." “Damned right I'm being difficult. Leave it at that for now." A car pulled up outside. I looked through the kitchen window and saw two people, a man and a woman, approaching the house. “A man and woman coming. If they aren't yours, they're probably Clark's." Ellen looked at Gary, who said, “They shouldn't be ours." I grinned at them. “Then these two really hauled ass to get here, didn't they? The nearest office is in Tampa." I answered the door as the guy was about to knock. He'd opened the screen door to do so and we stood face to face about a foot apart. “We gave at the office,” I said. “Cute,” said the woman, very obviously unimpressed. She identified herself as agent Hellman and her buddy as agent Benderson and flashed her ID. It said she was part of Clark's agency. I guessed her age and said, “Twenty-six." “What?" “Wrong answer. Call your boss and get the right one." The guy put his hand on the door and said, “We need to speak with you, sir." “When you have the right number, we'll talk. Hands off the door." “Look,” said the woman, “This is important..." “Then make the call and get the number." I closed the front door on the guy's protests and heard quiet swearing coming from the outside. The guy was pissed. The woman seemed to be speaking to someone else. A few moments later the doorbell rang again. I smiled at Gary and Ellen, yanked open the front door, and cheerfully asked, “Twenty-six?" The woman glared at me and carefully enunciated, “Twenty-four." Her teeth never parted as she spoke. Her lips barely moved. “Damn, lady. You do a helluva Clint Eastwood impression." Her partner snorted and tried to keep a straight face. “But you don't,” I told him. “Okay. We'll talk. What do you want?"

The woman slumped in exasperation and said, “Well, Duh! What do you think? We'd like to come in out of the sun and talk with you about continuing to work with our agency. Enough games. You already know who sent us." “Yeah, I know who sent you. I also know that if I let you in you'll anchor yourselves like a pair of Jehovah's Witnesses and I'll play hell getting you out." The guy asked, “What's it going to take to keep you involved? That's what all this is really about, isn't it? Money? How much do you want?" I just looked at him for a moment and closed the front door again. This time they didn't swear quietly. He opened the screen and pounded on the front door. “Open this goddamned door!" “No. Get lost." He pounded again. I walked to the kitchen and took the portable phone from the wall before sitting down to my salad. Gary and Ellen were aghast. Their faces reflected their shock at the way I was behaving. I ate salad and waited. When the phone rang, I said, “That will probably be Clark." I let it ring five times before picking it up and thumbing the 'talk' button. “Hello. You have reached..." Ellen giggled and Clark interrupted me. “Cut the crap, Ed. Why won't you talk to my people?" “What's to talk about, Clark? Didn't I quit two hours ago? And why would I talk to those two about it? They're barely old enough to vote." “Then talk to me about it. What's your problem?" “I don't have a problem, Clark. I quit before the job became one." I could almost envision Clark probing for an angle on things. “This isn't like you, Ed. You were never a quitter." “That luxury wasn't available back then. We were busy saving the world." “All right, dammit, what's it gonna take to get you back on board?" “I'll make a list, Clark. We'll start with Linda's new hard-assed attitudes. I don't work with or for dictators." “Is that all? When did you become so sensitive? I'll talk to her for you." “No, that isn't all. I still want to know why the hell anyone came to my door in the first place, Clark. That's the one question nobody's bothered to answer so far." “That I don't know, but I'll try to find out for you. Anything else?" “Yeah. I'm solo. That means I'm the AIC wherever I am and whatever I'm doing, just like the old days. No micromanagement crap from office people." Clark chuckled. “You want to be Agent in Charge, Ed? Ah ... You've been out of the business for quite a while, you know..." “If that mattered a damn Linda would have looked for someone else to use, which takes us back to why

she picked me, doesn't it?" There was silence for a moment, then, softly, “Maybe she was just trying to do an old friend a favor, Ed." “Again, crap. Linda's turned into a tyrant, Clark, and we don't do personal favors in our line of work. I was first on a list of three possibles in this area." Clark chuckled. “Well, I bet you aren't at the top of her list now." “Of course I am. If I weren't, Ellen wouldn't still be here, Gary wouldn't be here, and I'd be undergoing a rather nasty debriefing with the usual updated Security Act forms and promises of dire consequences for talking. She's listening to every word we say right now and hoping you'll do the re-recruiting for her." “She has you bugged?" I glanced at Gary's watch and said, “Since the beginning of all this and without a doubt. I'm looking right at it." He paused briefly, then asked, “How do you know it's hers? There may be other players..." “Who? C'mon, Clark. Trust me a little or fire me. I know what I'm talking about, here. It's her bug." Clark chuckled again. “Wouldn't that mean she just heard you call her a dictator and a tyrant, Ed?" “It would. It would also mean that she knows I'm going to be AIC or gone." Gary's watch emitted an odd beep I hadn't heard before and I heard someone in the background in Clark's office. The phone was muffled for a moment, then Clark was back. “I have to take a call, Ed. I'll call you back in a few." “Okay.” I thumbed the 'talk' button again to turn off the phone. The doorbell rang. I went to open the door. The woman said, “We've been out here long enough, sir..." “You sure have. Go away. Your boss will call if he wants to talk to me." I closed the door again and went back to the table. I waved the phone at Gary. “That odd beep was a 'freeze' signal, wasn't it? None of us is to leave the house for any reason until you hear from Linda?" He and Ellen nodded. “Cool. I'll get Bear's stuff ready and wrap up one of the new stoneware angel baskets for Linda. She'll either love it or have something to throw at me." Ellen asked, “Angel basket?" “Yeah. From a turn-of-the-century Art Noveau design. The girl's wings form the handle and it holds about a pint of whatever. Candy, flowers, paperclips..." They watched me wrap the basket and write ‘Linda’ on a little gift-card. Ellen asked, “What if she calls back and says to drop you?" I grinned. “Well, I've already addressed the card, so I guess I'll have to go out and find myself a girl named Linda, won't I? Would you like one?"

Ellen picked one up and examined it. She let it dangle from her fingers and watched the play of light reflecting from the glazed surface for a moment. “Yes, I would. How much are they?" I took her other hand and guided it to the bottom of the basket. “Twenty bucks to anyone else. It's yours. Just don't tell anyone how easy I am about these things. Here's a shipping box for it." Gary was smiling at Ellen's enjoyment. He said, “I thought we didn't do personal favors in our business." “Huh. You're just jealous ‘cause I didn't give you one, too. Want one?" He looked at the basket Ellen was holding up to the light and said, “Yes, but let me pay you. It's for someone else." “Ah. A native souvenir for the girl back home, huh? Good enough. Dunnit myself a few times. Here you go; one basket. Stand by one and I'll get you a box. How far does it have to go? Eighty light-years? We'd better pack it special. Hey, this could open up a whole new market for me, couldn't it?" Ellen giggled, then seemed thoughtful. “Actually, it could." “Kewl. I'll tell Sharon to ramp up for a little new business in the future." Gary was holding a twenty when I handed him his box. I told him I'd take it out of Ellen's six thousand, since it was all company money anyway. He shrugged and took the box with thanks, then said that if everything fell apart and I had to give the rent money back, he'd pay me for the basket anyway. I packed a few of my things in a backpack and readied Bear's stuff in another as we waited for Linda's callback, which wasn't long in coming. We were again sitting at the kitchen table when the odd beep sounded again and both of them touched their watches. Linda said, “Ed, I've talked to Clark and I've decided to talk with you in person before I make a decision about things. I can't go to you, so you'll have to come to me. Any objections?" “We'll saddle up now, Linda. See you shortly." “Okay, then. I'll have someone put some coffee on." Gary and Ellen stood up, but I waved them back down. “I'm going to hit the bathroom and make a call before we go and unplug my other computer before I forget. You've probably noticed the thunderstorms every day around here? Back in a minute, guys." I called Sharon and told her Bear and I would probably be back Tuesday or Wednesday. When she asked where I was going I told her I'd met a blonde who wanted me to see her place and that I didn't have the phone number there. While I was in the computer room I put my Taurus 85 revolver into its concealed-carry holster and slipped it inside my belt. I'd made a website for a gun shop and taken the stainless .357 in trade for my work. It only held 5 rounds, but they were big ones. I put a half-full box of ammo for it in my backpack. This may seem a drastic measure, but consider: I was about to take a ride at night with a couple of people I barely knew who claimed to be aliens and worked with or for some other people who were well-known for ruthlessness at times. Things could be as they seemed or not. I'd be as ready as possible either way, and the kind of people I'd

be meeting were the kind who understood caution. I put my field jacket on and checked the hang of it over the gun, then went out to put Bear in his carrier and headed to the car with Gary and Ellen. When Ellen got in the front passenger seat, leaving me unescorted in the back seat, I wondered about what transport-training they might have had, if any. Just as Gary began to back the car out, I tested the back door by unlocking and opening it, then closing it quickly, and said something about a packstrap caught in the door to excuse the action. At least I wasn't locked in back there. Chapter Six Gary turned the Chevy west on a lime rock road about five miles north of Spring Hill and the ride turned into a dusty, bumpy excursion through the pine forest for the next ten minutes or so. Cats inside pet carriers don't like bumpy excursions. Bear couldn't see anything but the seat in front of him and started yelling in his semi-Siamese voice about his discontent. I turned his carrier to face me and talked to him as I reached into the carrier to pat him a few times and he quieted a bit. The drive ended in front of a big mobile home that had been parked across the road. A sign on the side said it was a portable forestry office and other signs nearby advised not to proceed further into the woods. Another car was parked to one side of the road and a man was coming out of the trailer and walking toward us. His uniform shirt and pants were those of the forestry service, but his black, low-quarter shoes and the Glock pistol on his belt didn't fit the picture. I figured he was probably in one of the militaries. His black dress socks wouldn't offer any ankle protection in the woods and this was Florida black bear country. They aren't the biggest of the bears, but they tend to be as tough and nasty as any other kind of bear. Anyone using a .9mm or .40 caliber against a bear would probably hear a few of the rounds ricochet off the bear's skull before the bear reached him. If he survived, he'd never go near the woods again with less than a .44 magnum. The guy noticed me noticing his shoes and gun and made no comment, but when he saw me bring Bear's carrier out of the car his eyebrows went up. “A cat?" “A cat. His name's Bear. And speaking of bears, you need a bigger gun." “This is what I've got and I'm good with it." “Good luck, then. I've met a couple of bears. That won't stop one unless you get real lucky." The guy apparently knew Gary and Ellen and talked with them as I got my bags out of the car. He then walked with us to the rear of the mobile office, which I discovered was actually a double-wide version. He pressed a button on a small remote control he took from his pocket and the wall of the back of the mobile office raised like an automatic window awning to reveal our next ride. The vehicle was about twenty feet long, ten feet wide and eight feet tall. It had no wheels and had a metallic body. To me it looked like an elongated, odd-shaped delivery van. Its blunt nose and bare-

metal exterior made it look more like an almost seamless metal box than a means of transportation. Gary said something and the entire canopy simply disappeared. Soft and apparently sourceless interior lighting illuminated a few rows of bucket-style seats, a pilot's seat, and a large empty area behind the last row of seats for cargo. Although there was an upright console-kiosk, I saw no yoke or joystick. Once we were aboard the canopy reappeared, but I could see through the other side of it to the far wall of the trailer. From the inside, the canopy was almost transparent with a slight, silvery tint. I looked for seat belts and found none as I set Bear's carrier into the middle seat in the first row and my backpacks into the seat beside him, then Gary took the pilot's seat and Ellen and I sat on either side of Bear. “No seat belts?” I asked. “Not necessary,” said Gary. “Try to get up." I didn't see what he did, if anything, but I couldn't so much as lift half an inch. “As you can see, we don't need seat belts,” he said. I was dubious, but both of them looked completely comfortable with matters. Gary swiveled his seat around and grinningly asked, “Well, what do you think of it? We call these 'flitters'. This one has been programmed to understand voice commands in several languages and all of them have manual controls, as well." He appeared to have to think a minute, then he continued, “They'll carry up to two tons of people or cargo. Top speed is about ... um ... Well, I don't know what that translates to, but I know they can go faster than Earth's fighter jets. A few years ago we were seen over Iraq and had to outrun their missiles to keep them from knowing that their missiles would have no effect on their target." I thought, 'This goddamned boxcar outran somebody's jets and missiles?' Gary patted the small console that rose before his seat and added, “I know what you're thinking. It looks as aerodynamic as a brick, doesn't it? A field effect shapes itself to the most aerodynamic form for the speed. These aren't as maneuverable as some of our other vehicles, but, then, they aren't meant to be." 'Some things must be universal,' I thought. 'He sounds like every other guy I've ever heard bragging about his pickup truck.' I nodded and said, “As long as it gets the job done, right? I'll bet you prefer to fly it manually, too." Gary nodded and smiled and said, “Yes, I do,” then turned to face front. “No sweat,” I said. “Just remember Bear won't appreciate aerobatics." Ellen said in a flat tone, “And neither will I, Gary." Gary sighed heavily and reached to the console for an egg-shaped device, then said something that sounded like 'elkor, ess'. A soft humming began below the deck and the vehicle lifted a couple of feet from the ground without disturbing the sandy soil beneath or around us as a hovercraft would have. I watched Gary's piloting techniques carefully. He slightly tilted the egg to the right and the craft began sliding sideways. Once we were well-clear of the trailer, he turned the egg to the right a few degrees. The nose of the flitter followed the nose of the egg. Gary said, “Light from outside can come in, but not hard radiations or more than the safest levels of ultraviolet and infrared. No light from within escapes the canopy. In close proximity to the surface, no

side-tilting of the flitter is allowed by the safety monitor. The monitor will override the operator's commands if it decides that angles, speeds, and distances don't add up to a safe combination." He pointed at a big pine tree. “If I headed us for that tree at full speed, the monitor would allow it only until we reached a point at which we were nearly out of safe flight parameters. It would then override the pilot and reduce speed proportionately until the nose of the craft softly touched the tree." “Sounds good to me,” I said. “What happens if you drop the egg?" “I can't drop it,” said Gary. “As long as the flitter is in operation, the egg is field-bonded to my hand. Watch this." He let his hand drop quickly to dangle beside his seat and opened his fingers wide. The egg remained in the center of his hand as if glued there and the flitter gently rose into the air and stopped. Gary closed his hand around the egg and raised it again and the flitter gently began returning to its previous height of about two feet from the ground. “If I fainted or died, the flitter would stop all forward motion and settle to within about twenty feet of any surface. It would remain there, motionless, until someone took the egg or came for us. It would then begin transmitting a distress call." I said, “Time enough for a pilot to recover from something minor." Gary nodded. “If the pilot is incapacitated, there's a manual override touchpoint on the egg's bottom. The new pilot would keep a finger on that touchpoint and transfer the egg to his or her hand. When the touchpoint is released, the egg field-bonds to the new pilot's hand." I nodded and asked, “And if the egg is damaged or missing?" Gary said, “Voice commands, but they're deliberately rather limited. I could tell the flitter to take us to the ship or to a number of other pre-programmed points and it would do so, but it flies itself like a little old lady. The ship would automatically take control to land us in one of the bays. One of the other destinations would also take over the landing when we got close enough." “I think I may want one of these,” I said. “What about in-flight music?" Gary grinned and said, “Coming right up." He touched the console and a list appeared on the screen. “Yeah. Number six,” he said, and touched a line of text. The throbbing meringue beat of Gloria Estefan's "Go Away" filled the flitter at high volume. Ellen and I winced and Gary quickly tapped the console screen's 'down' icon. The music seemed to emanate from everywhere within the flitter. “Sorry,” said Gary. “I like it like that sometimes." “Where do I sign?” I asked. “I'll take this one. The mileage doesn't matter." A double beep sounded from both watches. Linda's voice said, “I do hate to interrupt your samba lessons, people, but weren't you supposed to be here by now?" Gary held his wrists out as if to show me his chains and made a face of deep, vast sufferance, then he said, “On our way. Sorry for the delay." “Ahead warp six, Ensign,” I said, “Engage." Ellen grinned as I gestured in the general direction of the ship.

“We watch some of the same shows,” said Ellen. “I like the latest version best, though, I think." “That's because the Captain is a woman, I'll bet. Actually, I like that series the best, too. They seem to have the best writers so far." Ellen fingered a bit of her blonde hair in front of her face and asked, “Is that the only reason?" “No, ma'am. That's one of three reasons. I like the way the lady Captain is portrayed, too." “And...?" “And every crew so far on those shows has had one member of some sort who was struggling to become—or avoid becoming—human. The current one is a very good-looking woman but a little too skinny for my taste, so I pay more attention to how she handles the role." A certain kind of question was coming. I focused on Bear for a moment as I waited to see what form the question would take. Ellen asked, “Then you prefer women who are constructed more like me?" I pretended to be surprised. “Oh, hell, yes! I've never let the ad agencies con me into thinking that anorexia is attractive. That sort of thinking is for teenaged girls and brainwashed women who are selfconscious and insecure about their looks. They turn themselves into painted faces on stick figures." I leaned to look over the side. We were only about thirty feet up and going about fifty miles per hour as we neared the shoreline and Gary didn't bother taking us any higher when we went 'feet wet', as the jet jockeys called crossing from land to water. He did, however, increase our speed a bit. I felt a surge of acceleration and heard Bear's claws trying to dig into the plastic bottom of the carrier as he slid backward. It wasn't anywhere near being the same powerful slamming into the seat that I'd experienced when I'd hitched a ride back to base in an A6 jet from an aircraft carrier, but it was startlingly strong. Gary said, “Would you prefer to ride with or without interior lighting?" Ellen quickly said, “With. There's nothing to see out there but black water." I said, “With is fine. Too many clouds to see the stars and I've already seen water at night. Besides, if you turn the lights off I won't be able to see Ellen." She glanced across at me with a wry smile. “With, it is,” said Gary. I said, “Gary, I don't hear much from outside. How fast are we going?" Gary turned with a smug grin and said, “At the moment we're going a little under seven hundred miles per hour, Ed. ETA is five minutes. Add another minute or so for docking without denting anything important." A jolt of surprise coursed through me, but I wasn't going to let him see it. “Cool,” I said. “Do these things come in any other colors?" Gary kept his grin in place and asked, “How long would paint last on one of these? We're only staying barely subsonic to avoid undue local attention." “Yeah. Two or three sonic booms a day might get noticed. What do you feed this thing?" Ellen said, “We don't have to feed it. An engine will provide power for twenty years or more, depending on the amount of usage. When the engine monitor says that power has been nearly

expended, a new engine is installed and what's left of the old engine's elements are recycled as inert materials." “What keeps it off the ground and moves it forward? Another field effect like the one that keeps the egg in the pilot's hand?" Ellen was surprised and didn't think to hide it. She said, “Yes, almost exactly the same effect, but reversed for levitation and directed for motion." “That means it needs to be close to something with mass to repel. It's far more refined than our space shuttle, but it can't function in open space, can it?" Gary's mouth dropped open. “Uh, no ... It can't." I grinned at him and said, “Well, rats. I always wanted to visit space." Linda's voice said, “I told you two he was smarter than he looked." I said, “Gee, thanks, Linda. We're discussing weighty matters like antigravity, here, and you're taking cheap shots at me. I'm all depressed, now." “You're very welcome, Ed. Um, I'm ... I'm ... sorry ... about being a hardass earlier. There's something you should know before you see me." Ellen looked as if she was going to say something. I shook my head. Linda continued, “I have to take a lot of pills these days and they don't always agree with each other. They can affect my moods." “Yeah, I've heard that too many pills can do that." Linda said, “I was in an accident some years ago. I was pretty banged up and I still hurt. How much do you need to know about it?" “Whatever you want to tell me, Linda, but it can wait if you want. I already know you're in a wheelchair, so don't expect me to faint dead away with shock when I see you. They told me you might be fixable, too. Is that true?" “By God, I'm hoping it is. The docs think so." I laughed softly and said, “Well, they built that big-assed ship that's hanging there with no visible means of support and this nifty toy I'm in right now, so let's assume they know what they're talking about and expect good results." Linda chuckled and said, “They do seem to know what they're doing most of the time." “Linda, I'm bringing you something." “What is it?" “Can't tell you. It's about eight inches tall, though." I heard her muted, "Oh, Jesus!", then, “This is an open line, Ed. Watch it." “An open line? In your office? Hah. You have a dirty mind, ma'am, and now I'm fearing that you don't really trust me after all. Lots of things are eight inches tall, you know. Ellen saw it and wanted one just like it.” I paused for effect and added in a whisper, “So did Gary, but he said it was for someone else!" Ellen couldn't hold it. She laughed out loud. So did Linda. Gary had an 'I'll get you for that' look on his face. I shrugged and grinned at him. It wasn't long before the big ship became easily visible in the night sky. Lights blinked at intervals

along its surface, presumably to make the ship more visible to aircraft, but that was about all. I'd expected more, I guess, based on some of the movies and my own imagination about such things, but other than the warning lights, the ship was a dark ball hanging in a darker sky. A chime sounded from the console and we began decelerating quickly, still only a dozen yards or so above the surface of the gulf. Gary put the egg on the console and said, “They have control of the flitter now. All we have to do is wait." The flitter altered course slightly and rose toward the big ship, then seemed to drift further upward along the side of the sphere until we were perhaps halfway to the middle of it. I was expecting my ears to pop from the abrupt change in altitude, but that didn't happen. I put the kitty-treats that would have made Bear chew enough to ease the pressure in his ears back into their pouch in my pocket. Another chime sounded and a round panel opened on the side of the big ship, revealing a landing bay. Two rows of sequentially-flashing green lights formed a narrow runway to a marked touchdown point within the bay. As we entered the opening, I saw a shimmering effect begin at the nose of our craft and travel along the surface of the canopy. I asked, “What does this field do? Keep the inside air from escaping when the doors are open?" Ellen said, “That's the most important thing, yes. But it also prevents the outside atmosphere from entering the ship." I looked at her with a vacant expression and said in an exaggerated hick accent, “Duh ... Oh, Wow! Gee, ma'am, I'da never figgerd that out on muh own..." Ellen giggled and said, “Sorry." I grinned and said, “What the hell. I did ask about it, didn't I?" As I watched the shimmer pass over me on the canopy surface, another chime sounded. It had a higherpitched, sharper tone. Our forward motion continued, but Gary and Ellen were looking at me rather sharply. I said, “I'll bet that doesn't mean they noticed Bear or his litter tray." Ellen said, “It doesn't. You have a weapon, Ed." “No apologies, ma'am. I was taking a trip through the woods at night with people who claim to be aliens. Just a precaution." Linda's voice said, “Not a problem. Give it to Ellen for the time being so they'll let you in, then see me about getting it back when you leave." I emptied the bullets from the gun and handed it to Ellen and said, “Done." The flitter was touching down on a marked area as Linda said, “The monitor says you're still armed, Ed." “I have the bullets. Ellen has the gun." Gary said, “She has it. He kept the bullets." After a moment's pause, Linda asked, “No other guns, Ed? No knives?"

“Just that belt knife I've always carried. A three-inch folder, remember?" “Show it to one of them and put the bullets down." I pulled out my pocket knife and handed it to Gary. As soon as it was in his hand, Linda said, “You show clear now. Okay. You can keep the knife, Ed." Ellen looked at her watch in confused surprise. “Why is he being allowed to keep a weapon?" “If you need to know immediately, ask Ed. Then ask him why I told you to ask him. Otherwise, you can wait or figure it out for yourself." The canopy disappeared as I took the knife back. Ellen was examining the gun. She looked up when I reached for my backpack and dropped the bullets in the side pocket. Her expression was one of disapproval. Ellen said, “I think I'd rather ask you than him." Linda said, “I'd have been very surprised if he'd arrived unarmed, Ellen. He'd have needed a goldplated reason for it and I can't think of one at the moment that would have been good enough. I'll be in my office. See you shortly." Ellen's expression didn't change as she rose from her seat. Gary was already standing up. He reached to take the gun from Ellen and examine it, then he handed it back to her without comment. Chapter Seven The flitter was parked in the center of a bay that looked as if it could comfortably contain four or five of them. A door about twelve feet wide and tall slid open in the direction of the center of the ship and we entered a corridor beyond. The corridor directly ahead was straight, appearing to lead to the core of the ship. The hallway to either side of us curved slightly with distance as it followed the same contour as the outer hull. As I looked down that curving hallway I could see our flitter in the bay on the other side of the door. Both the door and the wall were transparent from this side. I took out my knife and rapped the butt of it on the wall. The sound it made was a muted ringing, a sort of 'tink, tink' sound similar to what you'd hear if you tapped an anvil mounted on a well-padded stand. Ellen was eyeing me as I slipped the knife back in its belt pouch. “Transparent metal?” I asked. “Almost,” said Gary. “Metal, but not totally transparent." I nodded. “Okay, guys, I now officially believe in aliens and starships." “Wonderful,” said Ellen. “Let's go." She strode ahead at a march step down the center corridor. I hefted my bags and Bear and followed at a much more comfortable pace. Gary reached for my backpacks and offered to carry something. I handed him the one with the cat litter and food. “Thanks,” I said. “She's kind of pissed off at me, isn't she?" “I'd say so. She probably thought you trusted her more." I grinned. “If I'd trusted her more I wouldn't be here, Gary. Linda would have washed me out without a

second thought. How come Ellen doesn't know that?" Gary seemed to think a moment, then said, “Because observing isn't the same as spying, I think. We were trained to observe passively in conjunction with assistance from locals according to the interests of those who sent us here." “That doesn't sound too different from some of my past field work." “It's our first time in the, uh ... ‘field', Ed. I think we're just experiencing the difference between training simulations and actual interactions." “Ellen must realize that as well as you, Gary. She's too sharp not to, so why's she pissed at me for behaving as expected?" Gary shrugged and said, “You'll have to ask her, I guess." I pointed at his watch. “I just did. If she hasn't got a grip on this before we head back, I won't be working with her." He looked sharply at me, but said nothing. Ellen was waiting for us at a crossing of hallways. To one side there was a cylindrical alcove big enough for several people. She said nothing to us as she stepped inside and we joined her there. Ellen pushed a button and the door slid shut, then she said, “You tell the system where you want to go according to this display." The display was a partial layout of the ship. Ellen put her finger on the layout and a voice said, “One, one, three, sixteen." “Yes,” said Ellen, and the walls around us appeared to begin to move. I realized that we were seeing through the actual cylinder walls to the walls that contained the transport cylinder. Ellen said, “You can also state the numbers as the ship's computer did. It will repeat them once and wait for your confirmation." I said, “I haven't seen any signs or symbols that aren't alphanumeric or in English. This ship must have been built specifically for us." When Ellen didn't answer immediately, Gary said, “All but the core of this ship was built for Earth. The shell will be dismantled and will remain on Earth when the core ship leaves. Another shell will be constructed around that core for use on another world." “That explains the lack of personnel. I haven't seen anyone but us yet." “About three hundred of us will remain to assist and instruct. Most of them are already off the ship. The materials left on Earth will be used to build the first factory and training center." The door opened and the computer said, “One, one, three, sixteen." We exited the alcove into another corridor, but the curving of the walls to the left and right was much more extreme, which meant that we were much closer to the center of the ship. I noted that neither the walls nor the doors were left in their transparent mode in this region. Ellen walked across the corridor and pushed a button by a doorway. Linda's voice told us to come in as the door slid back. We entered a room that had been furnished like an office waiting room with a desk, a couch, a table, and some chairs. Soft but adequate lighting emanated from strips around the ceiling. Ellen strode over to the desk and placed the gun and holster in the center of it, then stepped back a

couple of paces. A door slid open behind the desk and I heard the hum of an electric motor as Linda entered the room in her wheelchair. As she rolled up to the desk I saw that the room beyond was outfitted like an apartment. She apparently didn't have to commute far to get to work. I said, “So you aren't just a special effect from a fancy watch. Hi, Linda. Want your prezzie now or later?" “Now would be good. Hi, Ed.” Linda picked up a remote and pressed a button. “Coffee's on. Help yourselves." A wall panel near her desk slid back. Inside the compartment was one of those coffee-makers you can buy for twenty bucks at department stores. Near it were cups and condiments. “Showoff,” I said. “My remote only operates a VCR. I'll get your prezzie out." Linda picked up my gun and looked it over before she set it off to one side. “I thought you preferred a long-barreled .22, Ed. When did you upgrade?" “I still prefer my .22, but this fits inside my belt better. I did some web pages for a gun shop and this was part of the trade, so it has less sentimental value if I have to lose it someday." I took her package out of my backpack and handed it to her. Her hand lingered on mine for a moment as she took the box and she looked up at me with a smile, but her eyes seemed to be examining mine. “Thank you,” she said. “Nobody's given me anything without a lot of strings attached for a long time." “Oh, I dunno. You're still working, you're on this ship, and they say they may be able to patch you up. That sounds like a bunch of gifts to me." She gave me a wry smile. “I was working anyway, but you have a point. They could have picked someone else for this job." I flicked open my knife and handed it to her butt-first. Linda hefted it in her hand, probably remembering the last time she'd seen and touched it, then used it to slit the wrapping. She used both hands to close the knife, looked it over for a moment, then handed it back to me. Ellen was watching us as Gary poured our coffees. I saw her eyes narrow slightly as Linda fondled my knife before handing it back. Was it because she objected to my bringing the knife aboard or because Linda seemed to derive something special out of handling it? Linda lifted the angel basket out of the box and seemed most happy with it. She said, “I didn't know you made things like this, Ed. I knew you had some kind of business, but...” Her words trailed off. “Yup. Actually, I design things and find customers for them and my partner Sharon makes the stuff. Want to meet Bear?" “Sure. I was wondering what was so special about him, anyway." I put the carrier on her desk and opened the door. Bear looked out cautiously and then walked out onto the desk. He looked at me and said, “Yahh?" I reached to pat him and said, “Things are fine, Bear. This is Linda." Linda said, “Hello, Bear. Are you a friendly kitty?" Bear looked at her and said, “Yahh."

I saw it in her eyes. His answer tickled her. She reached to let him sniff her hand. He did so, probably wondering why she'd offered. Bear wasn't much for preliminaries. He saw that she was interested and had a lap, and that was good enough for him. He's never liked flat surfaces that reminded him of the vet's office. Bear stepped carefully into Linda's lap and made himself comfortable. While Linda was watching Bear settle in I closed the carrier and put it on the floor, then took the coffee that Gary was offering. He put one on the desk near Linda and sipped his own. “He seems to like her,” said Gary. “Seems so,” I said. “You think I'll get my cat back when I leave?" “You will,” said Linda. She was stroking Bear as she spoke. “I have too much going on and about to go on to have to look after a pet." “They all say that,” I said. “Next thing you know she'll have three of them." Linda protested the idea and Gary laughed, but Ellen was still quietly standing by the coffee compartment. She approached the desk and stopped near the gun. She said, “I'd still like to know why it was permissible for him to bring this." Linda looked at her for a moment and asked, “Do you want a trusting idiot looking after you down there? Someone who won't be prepared if there's a problem? Who won't recognize the possibilities of danger before the danger lands on you? Someone who would have bought this whole setup without question and gone for a ride in the dark with a pair of strangers based on a few phone calls?" Ellen's expression wasn't quite sullen, but it was close. She said nothing. Linda's tone was even, but firm. “Do you really understand what kind of people will—definitely - be coming out of the woodwork down there when this news gets out? I mean, do you really understand what we expect to contend with?" Ellen said, “I've had the courses about mass hysteria, Linda. I've seen the films and vids and I've had some self-defense training. You know that." “Oh, I don't doubt that for a moment, Ellen. Not at all. I do doubt that everything really sank in, though. You've never personally met these kinds of people. You've never encountered a seriously unreasonable or insane person in your life, have you? We're going to have loonies of all kinds coming at us. That's a guarantee. Some of them will be adoring fans and others will be trying to kill anyone they presume to be alien or involved with this project. Either kind can be dangerous as hell, and Ed is here because he's had experience with both kinds." “Well, damn,” I said. “Put me in the 'adoring fan' category, I guess. I thought she was just taking me home to meet her folks. I figured she was gonna try to marry me to get a green card." I looked leeringly at Ellen and added, “And you just know I was gonna go right along with her program, you betcha. I was wondering how much I could get away with and still go to heaven, then I realized she probably was my heaven." Gary chuckled and Linda gave me a look of sufferance that morphed into a grin. Ellen's eyes narrowed sharply at me in a 'sit down and shut up' look and I shrugged and smiled back at her. She turned away from me to face Linda, but she couldn't conceal the slight blush creeping up her neck. Linda sipped her coffee, then said, “Anyway, Ellen, you've got him for the time being. If you find you absolutely can't stand him, say something and we'll swap you with someone else. If not, let him carry any damn thing he wants. He usually has at least a vague idea of what is appropriate for a situation."

She turned to me and said, “Unless you're still unconvinced about all this, you'll be in training as of tomorrow morning. Your company retirement will be suspended for the duration and you'll be at full pay and benefits at your pre-retirement grade. Your job will be to make sure nothing happens to any of these people in your care and all other duties as assigned. If you're in, sign these." Linda reached into her desk and placed a manila folder on the desk. I picked up the folder and half-sat against Linda's desk as I riffled through the forms as if having to make some kind of decision, then looked up at Ellen. “How about it, young goddess? Do I sign up or take my cat and go home?" She looked at me sharply. “What? Don't try to make me think this is up to me, Ed. What is this? More flattery to make me feel better about things?" I looked at Linda. “You haven't quoted me six-oh-one, so I'm not being drafted, right? You don't need me badly enough to force me out of retirement?" Linda nodded and said, “No, Ed. We'd prefer to have willing participants." “Then this is a judgment call, ma'am. Hers." I handed the folder to Ellen and let go of it before she could refuse it, then went to get a refill. Gary was trying not to look too astonished as I passed him. When I turned to return to the desk, Ellen gave me a sharp look and placed the folder in front of Linda. “I'm not going to make your decision for you, Ed." I looked at the folder for a moment and said, “Okay. Linda, do you want to visit a bit before they take me back to the house?" “I'd like that, Ed. I guess this meeting is over, people. Be ready to take him home in an hour or so." Gary almost stuttered in agitation. “But ... After all that's happened today...?" Linda gave him a very direct look and said, “I can't legally force him to cooperate, Gary. We'll have to get one of the backup people for her." Gary's anger surfaced. “They're backups for good reason,” he said. “Health, ability, experience. For some reason they weren't considered the best choices. I don't know exactly why Ed was at the top of your list, but I do know that I don't want my sister on her first offworld assignment with a ... a backup!" He picked up the folder, thrust it at Ellen, and said something to her rather sharply in their language. Linda and I just glanced at each other in surprise. That was the first I'd heard of their real relationship. I didn't bother to conceal my surprise at the revelation. Gary began to say something else, but Ellen raised her hands and said, “Okay! Okay! Calm down, Gary!" She took the folder from him and put her hand on his for a moment, then stepped over to me and held it out to me. I didn't immediately take it. “You've put me in an awkward position,” she said. “And I really don't like it." “Gee, that's tough, lady. You have my sympathies." “This is just another control issue with you, isn't it?" “Damn right it is. You control whether I stay or not."

Ellen turned to Linda and Gary and glared briefly at each before speaking. “Can't you see he's using you both to force me to concede to him?" Gary just stood glaring at us. Linda pursed her lips and nodded as she said, “It certainly could be interpreted that way, I suppose, but to concede what to him, exactly?" Ellen sighed in exasperation. “It's just like everything we went through with everybody else today, Linda! He has to get things his way! He just has to win! It doesn't matter what. He just has to win!" Linda looked at Ellen for a moment and laughed softly. “And how does that disqualify him? Clark and I put him through a bit of hell today to see how he'd handle it. He handed it back to us on a platter. Why do you think he's leaving the decision to you, Ellen? Why would he put his immediate future in your hands? All he has to do is sign up and we could assign him someone else to cover, but he's leaving it all up to you. Why?" Ellen looked at Linda, then at Gary, then back at me. She was more than a little angry. Her teeth were clenched and she enunciated every word separately as she said, “I ... don't ... know." Linda said softly, “Then go with what you do know, Ellen. He's what we need on these jobs. He wants to work with you, and he seems to be quite ready to walk away if you refuse. Why not go with it and figure it out later?" Ellen shook her head and said, “I just don't believe this is happening." She put my folder on the desk and asked Linda, “And if we don't get along? If we don't work well together? What then?" “That's up to you and him. We'll find someone else to cover you and Ed can stay in the program or not, as he wishes." Ellen looked directly at me and said, “Okay, then. We'll try it." When I didn't move to pick up the folder, she said, “I said we'll try it." I said, “I don't want to sign a ream of this stuff and go through all the hoops and barrels and then have you bail out in a week or two." “I won't ask to be removed without good reason." I reached for the folder and said, “Then I'll try not to give you a reason." Chapter Eight Gary and Ellen left to take care of a few things. Linda told me to pull up a chair as the door closed behind them. She pressed a button on the side of her watch, took it off, and dropped it in a desk drawer as I began reading and signing. “Just you and me, Ed. 'Six-oh-one'?" Her grin was infectious. “The 'devious-genius' lobe of my brain barfed it up, so I used it. Glad she didn't ask to read it for herself." “She may yet try to look it up or ask about it."

“If she does, she does, but since you refused to invoke it and it can't be used on her, she probably won't. Are you going to babysit my Bear while I train?" “Well, that's why you brought him, isn't it? So someone would be available to keep an eye on him? Is this all he does?" “Ask him." She looked down at Bear and asked, “Is this all you do, Bear?" Bear looked up at her and said, “Yahh." Linda laughed and said, “He's a born supervisor, isn't he?" “He's always thought so. How did you come to be ramrodding a bunch of aliens, Linda?" Linda looked up from Bear and smiled. “I had to have something to do while my new parts were being grown. They took a bit of my spine and cultured it somehow. In a few months, once everybody's in place, I'll take some time off so they can install six inches of brand-new spine." “Cool. Not much chance of tissue rejection with that." “No, not much. After the accident I thought I'd never be out of this chair again. The agency let me come back to work, but they'd replaced me—out of necessity—and they created a position that amounted to my being an assistant to my replacement. Actually it wasn't a bad deal, and most of the time I was doing about what I'd done before, but it just wasn't quite the same." She gestured at the ship around her. “And then these guys—the Amarans—showed up about four years ago. One of their shuttle craft matched orbit with one of our shuttle missions and startled the hell out of the crew." She grinned and asked, “Can you imagine...? 'Houston, we have guests and they aren't from around here.' I'll bet that shuttle crew was bugeyed." “No doubt about it." Linda nodded and continued, “Once everybody had calmed down a bit they got down to business. National leaders were quietly introduced to the Amarans. English was chosen as the working language for this venture and it's taken this long just to get all the nations on the ‘A’ list to agree to work together and contribute people. I was asked if I wanted to meet some new people and travel a bit. When I found out what the deal was, I jumped—so to speak—at the offer." “I'll just bet you did, ma'am. Are Gary and Ellen really Amarans or are they part of someone's contribution?" “They're Amaran. You want to know why they look like us, don't you?" “You got it." “Then go get me a fresh coffee. I can't get up at the moment." With a small smile she pointed to Bear, comfortably snoozing in her lap. I gave her a wry grin and went for her coffee as she continued. “The Amarans say they've encountered humans just about everywhere they've been. Most of them think it's the result of some kind of seeding, but nobody knows why the seeding was done or when. There's another theory that favors a collapsed empire. In short, they don't know why we're everywhere, either." “Are you gonna tell me all about my new job?" Linda nodded and asked, “Remember Yuri Krepkin?"

“Yeah. A Russian intelligence official who defected in 1985, wrote books condemning Communism, and wound up on the KGB hit list. We issued him a new identity and a guardswoman and he later married her. When Russia broke up the hit was rescinded." “It's the same situation. Keep trouble away from her when you can't keep her away from trouble. Help her do her job." I smiled and asked, “Who's trying to kill her and what's her job?" Linda smiled back and said, “Nobody's trying to kill her yet, but we expect to see some trouble when all this goes public. She's a chief engineer, I guess you'd say. She'll be helping to choose and train people once we get things moving. We don't know how long it will take to round up a competent Earth staff." That surprised me. “You don't already have a long list of candidates?" Linda nodded again. “Sure we do, but mostly based on technical merit alone, at this point. We'll try to weed out problem people before they're invited, of course, but nothing is one hundred percent. You're her firewall." “May I ask why she isn't being housed on this ship for the time being? It would be safer, and it isn't as if there isn't enough room up here." Linda sipped her coffee, then said, “This ship is going to be dismantled over the next couple of years. We're in the process of building the Amarans their own town, near where the Earthside factory and training center will be built, but in the meantime, the program that placed Ellen with you will allow them to get to know us a little better—in relative safety—before having to try to work with us." I gave that a little thought, then said, “That sounds as if it was their idea, not ours. I'll bet the program met a good bit of resistance, too." “It did. But the Amarans insisted. They made it part of the deal." “Any idea why it means so much to them?" Linda shook her head. “The words 'intercultural exchange' have been used a lot, but to me, it would seem to be about the same as if you or I decided to go live like natives in some African village. I damn sure haven't figured it out." “An alien Peace Corps,” I said. “Idealistic students sallying forth to help others help themselves, and all that. We've done it; maybe this is their equivalent." “That was my first guess, too, but it's just a guess." We visited for another hour or so before Linda put her watch back on and called Gary and Ellen to see who was free to return to show me to my room. Ellen said she wouldn't reach a stopping point for another half hour or so, but Gary said he could be there in a few minutes. Bear wasn't thrilled to be put back into the carrier, but it wasn't a long trip. I'd been assigned the room next door to Linda's. I guess I'd imagined something more futuristic, but the room looked as if it had been furnished from a department store, which it probably had been, since it was for guests from Earth. Gary showed me the press-panel for the door and demonstrated it. There was an announcement chime, but no locking mechanism. I pulled a yellow Post-It notepad from my backpack, scribbled "Do Not Let The Cat Out", and stuck it on the press-panel outside. It was the only bit of color on the otherwise featureless wall. “I think anyone would notice that well enough,” said Gary.

I nodded and said, “Yup. There's not much to detract from it, is there?" “Let me show you how things work in your room.” He led the way back in and when the door had closed, he said, “Elkor. Lights off." The lighting in the room immediately darkened to almost nothing. As my eyes adjusted, I saw that the only illumination was from the softly-glowing door-control panel and narrow strips on the lower corners of furniture. Gary said, “Elkor. Lights on, eighty percent." The lights came back on in the ceiling strips. After my eyes readjusted, I could see that they were less bright than before. “Elkor is our name for the ship's computer. You could also just say 'computer, lights on' if you'd rather." He led me to the bathroom and showed me a sink and shower that had manual controls. I asked if other bathrooms had computer controls, and he grinned at me. “No. Telling a computer just how hot or cold or fast to make water run was too much trouble. Some things need no improvement." The commode was just a commode. It was made of metal and had a flap inside the bottom of the bowl like an airline commode to keep sloshing to a minimum. A touch-panel on top activated the flushing mechanism. Gary said, “Like I said, some things need no improvement." There were soaps for the sink and shower and towels on a rack and a mirror over the sink. A grab-bar in the shower was the only feature I couldn't have found in my own bathroom. Well, what else had I expected? They were human, too. I let Bear out of his carrier and set up his food and water in the bathroom. He began exploring, wandering in and out of the bathroom and over and under the bed and the table. When he discovered the easy chair beside the bed, he sprawled himself out, then wadded himself up, then sprawled again. “What's he doing?” asked Gary. “Checking the fit and feel of it, I'd say. He has a favorite chair at home, so he likely figures he needs one here, too." Bear shuffled himself a bit and moved no more. The chair would do. “I have something else to show you before I go, Ed." He opened a drawer of the nightstand by the bed. “Have the Gideons been here already?” I asked. “The who?" “Never mind. The Gideons are a religious group which puts their bibles in hotel rooms. Dumb joke." “No, I just didn't understand the reference. I do now. Look at this." He took what looked like a fat clipboard without a clip from the drawer. It came glowingly alive at his touch of a panel on its corner. A menu composed of icons appeared instantly, and each icon was further identified by a bit of text. “News, most movies and TV shows ever made, and the Internet. This links to the ship's computer, which links to our Earthside comm center. I think you'll find it to be a considerably faster connection

than you're used to, even with the relays. Just touch the icon for your interest and follow the instructions on screen." I looked at the pad with fascination, but the viewing area was only about as big as a standard sheet of typing paper. “I don't think I'm going to want to watch many movies or much TV on this, but the Internet should be fun." Gary grinned and said, “No, no. You choose the movie or TV show with this pad, but you watch the show over there.” He pointed to the far wall. “Try it." I almost chose 'Independence Day' from the list, but decided not to push Gary's sense of humor. Instead I chose 'My Step-Mother is an Alien'. It was neat. There was no projector that I could see, and everything was life-sized or larger, depending on the camera position. When Kim Basinger appeared, Gary's jaw dropped and he reached for the pad. He backed up the movie a few frames, froze the image, then went to a side menu and chose a submenu. A moment later Ellen's face was onscreen in a framed box. He used the pad to move Ellen's face near Kim's and expanded Ellen's picture so it matched the size of Kim's on the wall. In a low, astonished tone Gary said, “She looks almost exactly like Ellen!" I said, “Or vice-versa. That's a fairly wonderful thing, as far as I'm concerned." He was like an enthusiastic kid for a few moments as he called Ellen on his watch. Ellen said she'd be finished in a moment. Gary said, “Hurry! You have to see this!" Ellen said she'd be right there. I said, “Gary, you can call this up on any pad any time, right?" He answered distractedly as he stared at the pictures. “Yeah, but..." I nodded. Yeah. I knew the 'you-gotta-see-this!' feeling. The door chime sounded a few moments later. I told Ellen to come in, but she didn't get far into the room before she saw the pictures on the wall and froze. Whatever she said was in their language, but it expressed her startlement. “Who is that?” she asked. Her voice was up an octave or two from normal. I said, “Kim Basinger. Good likeness, isn't she? Or aren't you? Whichever." Gary said, “A very good likeness. Very similar features." Ellen walked up to the wall and tentatively reached to touch the image of Kim, but stopped her reach and instead touched her own face. “This is the woman you compared me to when you spoke to Clark." “Yup. He was most impressed, even if he didn't quite believe me." Gary said, “He'll believe you if he ever meets Ellen, won't he?" “Not a doubt in my little mind. I'd be the envy of the Spook Club with the Lady Ellen on my arm. I'd probably have to fight a duel or two for her." After some moments of staring at the pictures on the wall, Ellen turned to face us. She seemed to want

to say something, but she couldn't seem to find the words. She gave us both an anguished, questioning look and said nothing as she marched to the door, where she turned to face us once more for a moment before leaving my room. Gary and I were mystified by her reaction. I said, “I didn't think it would be that big a deal for her." “Neither did I." “I thought she'd be rather flattered, really." “So did I." “She didn't look particularly flattered, did she?" Gary looked thoughtfully at the pictures on the wall again. “No,” he said. “She didn't. Not at all." “Huh. She should be. Kim Basinger's no woofer." “No what? Oh, you mean she isn't unattractive." “Damned right she isn't. Got any idea why Ellen's all fuzzed up?" “Fuzzed up? I take it you mean she was upset?" “Not quite. She just had her hackles up for some reason. Fuzzed up is a stage before upset and upset is just short of ballistic." Gary turned to face me and sighed exasperatedly. “Ed, I'm having trouble with that word, too. It means 'of or relating to ballistics or a body in motion according to the laws of ballistics'. Exactly how does that word apply to people?" I just looked at him and said, “Well, no shit ... You memorized the whole damned book, didn't you? And you still have to ask how some words are commonly used ... Look, Gary, when a person is really pissed or crazy enough to scream, fight, or otherwise seriously misbehave, they're said to be 'going ballistic'. Sometimes dictionary definitions aren't altogether relevant to vernacular usage." “That's becoming more apparent every time you speak, Ed." I could hear the irritation in his words. I shrugged and said, “Don't worry about it. You didn't completely waste your time, Gary. Most of us still use maybe a third of the words in the dictionary, even if we tend to use them in odd ways. Could be you're a tad overtrained in some things and undertrained in others. Most people are." His eyes narrowed and his tone changed to one of sharpness. “Is that so? And should I suppose that you're capable of telling me how I may be overtrained?" “Nope. You'll have to figure that out as you go. Don't worry about it, though. You'll get plenty of opportunities to fuck up outside a classroom. By the way, now you know exactly how being fuzzed up feels. It's an ‘on-the-edge' sort of thing." I gave him a quick grin and added, “Now how about showing me which wall panel is hiding my coffee pot?" Gary's expression morphed from irritated to confused. “Um,” he said, “I, uh ... I don't know if they put one in this room." He walked over to a wall panel and seemed almost relieved when it slid back to reveal a coffee pot like

Linda's. I joined him there and loaded the percolator. “Gary, I'd have been real surprised if Linda had put me in a room without one of these, but even if she had, I've got a stash of instant with me." “Should you be drinking that so late? We have a big day tomorrow. You'll need your sleep, Ed." I grinned and said, “You get to a point where it doesn't really matter when you drink it if you haven't had more than a gallon that day." He looked at me with mild horror. “Are you serious?" “Almost. I probably never do more than half a gallon in a day." His look of horror didn't go away. Oh, well. I moved the pot and stuck my mug under the just-beginning flow of coffee and asked, “What are we gonna do about Ellen?" “Huh? What do you mean? What should we do about Ellen?" I glanced at him. “She has a bee under her tail about something, man. It may have been the gun that started it, but it was getting worse right up ‘till I made her decide whether I stay or not, and then it got worse than worse. And then there was the picture thing. What was that about? I can guarantee that if her skin is really that thin, she's gonna have major problems coping on Earth." Gary said, “Thin-skinned. I know that one. It means hypersensitive. Um. But I couldn't say why she's acting this way." “You're her brother. Haven't you ever seen her act like this about anything else? A boyfriend, a pet, a possession? All of the above?" He didn't answer. I peered at him over my coffee mug. “You're both in about your mid-twenties and you've never seen her tense up like that before? Were you raised on separate planets or something? This can't be the first time she's ever been like this." “You'll have to talk to her, Ed." “I already have, Gary. If I have to wear one of those watches, the 'off' button had better be in good working order. Thanks for the room tour. I'll play with that pad for a while before I crash." He nodded and turned to leave, then apparently changed his mind and turned to face me again. “Ellen was in the top of her class. She worked hard to be on this mission." I let him see that I was paying attention, but I said nothing. “She ... We are products of our society, Ed. We don't have most of the problems you have on Earth. The probability of someone doing violence to someone else on our world is nearly nonexistent, so we're having a hard time truly understanding the need for people like you and Linda." “By 'we', do you mean you and Ellen, or all the Amarans?" “Not all Amarans, no. Our leaders specifically asked for this sort of help from your leaders. I meant Ellen and me and most of the others your people will be guarding. We've never encountered what you're intended to prevent." “Well, hopefully you won't encounter it. I have, and it isn't pleasant. If it will make you feel any better, I'll tell you something. People in my line of work are 'do or die' types. We don't give up and we don't give in."

He nodded and started to say something. I held up a hand to stop him. I said, “No, Gary, you don't quite understand me yet, but maybe you will. When we're called upon the assignments almost always have the potential to turn very mean. That's why we're the ones called. I'll be expected to fight to the last breath to protect Ellen, and I don't care enough about an Earth/Amaran commercial venture to come out of retirement for the job. Sooner or later the deal would go through, with or without my help. The factories would happen and all the rest of it." Gary looked confused again. “Then why...?" “Ellen. Just Ellen. Nothing else about any of this matters a damn when weighed against her safety. I like her. I want to see her get through this in one piece." “That doesn't make any sense, Ed. You've only known us for a day and our mission is the most important thing to all of us." I shrugged. “I'm not 'us', Gary. My chosen mission is Ellen. Nothing else motivated me to sign up for this. Do you really have a problem with that?" Gary said, “No, I guess not,” but he left shaking his head as if none of it made any sense to him. Chapter Nine The pad was a pretty neat toy. I was sipping coffee in bed, mucking around on the Internet, when a little block opened itself at the bottom of the screen. The words "Watch this space" appeared, then "Press Enter", so I pressed the enter icon. A knight in shining armor on a white steed charged from one side of the screen to the other, his lance aimed at some offscreen enemy. Apparently he dispatched the bad guy because he swung his horse around and returned to center screen, lance raised high, and tipped the lance in a salute to someone offscreen. I heard the words, “I am at your service, miLady!” before the image froze. Assuming that the pad was at least as capable as the wristwatches, I said, “Cute, Linda. Real cute. Isn't it past your bedtime?" “I'm in charge here,” she said. “I decide when it's my bedtime. For that matter, I can decide when it's your bedtime, mister. How did you like the show? I worked my butt off for a whole two minutes to put that together." “Just don't try to tell me you created it from scratch. I saw that movie." She laughed. “Now Gary thinks you're nuts, you know." “Can he get me fired?" “No, not without a better reason than your being enamored of Ellen." “Then he doesn't count. Do you think I'm nuts?" “Oh, definitely. I mean that in a kind way, of course." “Oh, of course. Heard from Ellen about things?" “She hasn't come out of her room since she left yours." “How do you read all this, Linda? A true realization of danger? Fear?" “Could be. That plus wondering if she's really ready for field work." “They're never ready for field work until they've been in the field a few times."

“Is that a quote, Ed? That sounds like a quote." “It will be if you repeat it. Send me a dime every time you use it." “Sure I will. There is firearms-training for all of you on the roster. You can handle that sometime next week at the police range in Hudson, just down the street from you. I'll make the arrangements for you." “I know the place. Specify rifles and handguns so she won't think I'm pushing her on that issue, too." “Will do. If you think of anything else that should be official, let me know. One question before I sign off, here: Was all that stuff you told Gary true? Ellen's the only reason you signed up? Really?" “Yeah. It's true enough, Linda. Well, that and I want a flitter of my own as soon as possible as part of this whole deal. I'm fifty now. I'll be eighty or dead before they'll be common enough here to buy one on a used car lot." Linda laughed. “I can issue you the blonde, but I don't know about the flitter." “You'll do your best?" “Absolutely. Promise. Over and out and all that stuff. Put the pad down, get some sleep, and drop Bear off at my office in the morning." “Roger that, Fearless Leader." The screen reverted to the Internet. I closed the connection and put the pad in the nightstand's drawer. Bear realized I was getting ready to sleep and moved off my lap to the corner of the bed he'd claimed for himself. He'd learned years ago that people sometimes roll over in their sleep. A chime echoing through the room woke me. I peeled an eye open and realized that I was aboard the ship and that Bear was standing on the bed near my face. As soon as we made eye contact he said, “Yahh." “Yeah, right, Bear. Gimme a minute." I looked for a way to turn off the chime, then decided to try the computer. “Elkor, wake-up chime off." To my vague surprise it worked. The chime ceased instantly and a few moments later Linda's voice said, “Boots and saddles, Ed. How long before you can be in my office in working order?" “If there's no hurry, give me half an hour or so." “Good enough. See you then." I cleaned up and dressed, then soaked up a cup of coffee with Bear on my lap as I used the pad to check my WiccaWorks email. Six requests for catalogs and a few less meaningful messages later I put the pad away and wandered down to Linda's office. She was at her desk when I arrived. “You didn't bring Bear." “I thought we might want to go to breakfast first. Better he should do his looking around while you're here, anyway." I walked alongside Linda's chair for what must have been a hundred yards of corridor. As we were about to go into the dining room I heard someone running our direction. It was Ellen, followed by Gary. I watched their approach and said, “Damn, you'd think they never got fed." Linda laughed. “They're jogging, you idiot."

That was pretty obvious, really. Both of them were in light blue shorts and t-shirts and had obviously been running for some time. They pulled up beside us and Ellen grinned hard as she asked if I wanted to join them. I looked at the hot, sweaty blonde and said, “We'll work out something I can handle conveniently this week. I think I'll need it to keep up with you." She'd expected some kind of 'no' and I'd caught her off-guard, but she became serious and said, “Good. We'll be along in a few minutes." Off they went, pelting down the hallway. I watched Ellen until Linda tapped my arm and said, “Stare at her later. Let's eat." After breakfast I took Bear to Linda and my own training program began with a thorough physical examination. The docs found nothing wrong that a little exercise couldn't cure and suggested that I get away from my computers more often. I was issued a watch like Gary's. It wasn't large or ostentatious. It had a brushed-silver finish and was nearly invulnerable, according to the brochure that came with it. Gary proudly said that the watches had been made on a planet that had required less than two decades to become commercially independent. I glanced at him when he said that and saw what I'd expected. Gary was one of the true believers, full of faith and loyalty and mission goals. Because this was a commercial venture, even if supposedly a self-help program for less-advanced planets, I figured he was also somewhat full of propaganda. I said, “Less than two decades, huh? Impressive. They didn't just make these watches, though, did they?" “Very impressive,” said Gary. “They did it by taking on several of the smaller, similar products at once. They were very enthusiastic about the program and rather quickly converted over a third of their world's industries to produce for our markets. We virtually ended unemployment and destitution on their world." He sounded almost like a father bragging about his kids. “Did you have a hand in bringing that world into the fold?" “No, that was before my time. Ellen and I were accepted for training only last year. As I said, this is our first mission." “You say there are about three hundred staying behind. How many of them have had previous mission experience?" Gary gave that a moment's thought and answered, “About fifteen or so. We all know what we're supposed to do, so we really don't need much supervision." I nodded. A boatload of eager newbies led by a tiny core group of old hands. It was beginning to sound and smell like some of the corporate 'goodwill and prosperity' programs that I'd encountered in Africa. They'd used idealistic students to set things up; young people who would have to go back to foreign colleges and start their careers soon. People who would forget about their activities in the field for XYZ Company's goodwill program until they had occasion to brag about their youthful exploits over drinks later in life. The entire small towns they constructed—ostensibly to bring the joys of civilized living to the more remote regions—became company towns that housed only the families of the company's laborers. Wages were higher than elsewhere, which attracted workers and their families, but prices at the

company-owned market and housing rents were higher, too, and to spend your money anywhere else meant traveling a hundred miles or so. After a year or so most laborers were in debt to the company and couldn't afford to move back to wherever they'd come from. Their families were economic hostages to their continued production, and when the kids were old enough, they usually wound up laboring for the company, too. Some argued that such people would be in the same situation anywhere they happened to live. That may have been true for most, but at least some of the kids might have had a future beyond mine labor if they'd been anywhere else. “Gary,” I asked, “Do they handle their own marketing, make their own deals, or transport their own merchandise? Do they own a starship yet?" “Oh, no,” he said. “We still handle all that for them, but they've paid us back our investment and now they're putting credit aside in order to buy one." I nodded. “How much longer do you think it will be until they can afford one of your big ships?" “Probably not more than another decade or so." I thought about that. Given thirty or forty years, could Earth's space programs barf up a starship? Not a chance in hell in twice that time. The leaders of Earth were jumping at the short-cut to the stars and they'd pay any price for it, including turning the whole damned planet into a factory. I wondered if they'd stop short of re-legalizing slavery in order to meet production goals. Whatever. The program was already underway and those issues would have to be someone else's. It seemed likely to me that in the long run such issues would take care of themselves. I was also issued a neural stunner like Ellen's and shown how it worked. It was keyed to me and I was told to simply point it and think it should “fire". When it didn't work the first time, I visualized a beam reaching out to the target and heard a soft chime. Although I saw nothing happen, the tech told me to check my target, and the monitor on the dummy's chest read close to thirty percent. “Practice,” said the tech. “Take this monitor and use it as a target. It will chime when you hit it. That was very good for a first effort. Try to reach for full power and remember that you don't have to aim only at the chest. It will just as easily disable an arm or a leg with the amount of power you just used." Over lunch I suggested to Linda that Earth make stunners as well as the flitters. She said she'd already passed that idea on, but the word had come back that if we wanted stunners, we'd have to trade flitters for them. Someone else was already making them. “On the other hand,” she said, “They're cheap, and flitters aren't. One flitter would probably buy every member of the New York police force a stunner." My afternoon was spent in martial-arts brush-up with Gary and Ellen. Linda watched from the edge of the mat as we tossed each other around as gently as possible without losing the purpose of the training. A few things I knew surprised them and a few things they knew startled me and some new ground was broken between Ellen and me when she found that she flatly couldn't break free from some of my holds and couldn't block some of my strikes. She knew she was in much better physical condition than me and couldn't figure out how that didn't somehow weigh in her favor. It irritated her to no end when too many of my touches of her throat and trunk connected past her best blocks, and at one point Gary felt the need to call a timeout to let us all cool down a bit. Ellen went over to one of the wall pads and slammed it with her fists a few times, then came back to sit with us. “I want to know how you're doing that,” she said. “Now, please."

“You've just been taking things at face value, ma'am. It starts as one thing and ends up as something else. You're still guarding against what you thought you saw coming at you when the something else tags you. We won't be trying to win trophies for perfect form out there. Lose the styles and form." Ellen was a perfectionist who had trained hard and learned well. Breaking a form was—to make a pun —alien to her nature, but as the session progressed, so did she. Fewer and fewer of my strikes succeeded and Ellen was wearing an 'I've got you now' grin most of the last half hour, so just to be difficult I closed our last session with a couple of moves and strikes she'd never seen before. I was tired as hell when I left them to clean up before dinner and knew as I stood soaking in a hot shower that I'd be feeling that afternoon for a day or two. When I joined them for dinner I made sure that none of the aches and pains showed, of course. Across the table Gary and Ellen were comparing mental notes on our afternoon, seemingly blithely unaware that I should have any discomfort, but Linda knew better. She leaned over to whisperingly ask me how I was feeling. I looked at her and whispered back, “Abused." Linda grinned. “That's what you get for chasing the young stuff." “Chasing them doesn't make you feel like this. Letting them catch you does." I wrapped a little roast beef in a napkin for Bear and excused myself, but Linda put a hand on my arm and said there was to be a briefing at seven. “A.M. or P.M.?" “Tonight. My office. Mug shots of all the top potential troublemakers and overviews of their organizations. Discussion. All that." “Sounds thrilling. Ring me half an hour early in case I'm napping." She nodded and I left the table. Bear enjoyed his roast beef and I stretched out on the bed. I'd thought I was in reasonable condition for some stupid reason, but I was quickly becoming disabused of that notion. I realized that if I took that nap I'd probably need help getting out of bed, so I took some aspirin from my backpack and spent some time doing stretching exercises while Xena saved the ancient world yet again on my wall. Damn, but Gabrielle was looking good these days. I liked her new persona better, too. My door chime sounded. I said, “Come in." The door opened for Linda and she rolled into my room. From a side pocket in her chair she produced a bottle of aspirin and a few other pain remedies. “Take your pick,” she said. “The pharmacy's open." “Thanks, but I already took some aspirin." She nodded and started putting the stuff back in the chair pocket. “Well, you know who to see if aspirin isn't enough later. That girl's going to be the death of you if you try to match her at everything, macho man." “Linda,” I said. My tone made her look up at me quizzically. I turned off my watch. After a moment, she turned off hers and straightened in her chair.

“Okay, I'm ready. I'm sitting down, anyway. What's on your mind?" “Why would an engineer study all the way to brown belt in a couple of different styles, then get all worked up when she sees a gun? What's the difference between being able to rip a guy's throat out or being able to shoot him?" “You tell me. I'll tell you if it makes any sense." “Could be it really was just a training measure to help them protect themselves on Earth, but I think we need to know more about them." She nodded slightly. “Could be just routine training for rough planets, but I was wondering about that myself. I've been fishing, Ed." “Any luck?" “No luck. There's nothing available that couldn't have been manufactured." I thought out loud. “Gary's less comfortable in English than Ellen and he's consistent in his misunderstandings. Ellen isn't consistent that way and she ranges from precise diction to using contractions. Gary tries to be cool, too, but you can still hear the quote marks around a lot of the words. Could be she's been to Earth before with another group." Linda said, “Maybe she was with the ones who determined whether we were ready to be approached. They'd have had to spend some time here for that." “In which case, why would we be told it was her first visit? Why was she so shocked and upset when she saw herself on my wall next to Kim Basinger? There's no way she can not know she's gorgeous, so why would looking very much like a much-adored film star upset her? Beauty will get you in a door, close to someone, or make people automatically respond to you, but looking like someone famous could get you too much attention and get in your way." “If you had a hidden agenda, it could definitely be a problem." “Not much to go on, is it?" “Not much." I scribbled on my yellow pad, "Okay. The bait's in the water." Linda nodded and said, “But how much does any of it matter, Ed? A year from now Earth will be a flitter factory headquarters. Why suspect there's anything more than a business deal going on? Let's just play our parts as always and get the job done." Linda took the yellow pad and wrote, "Let's close with a happy note." “Yeah. Might as well. Let the bosses and lawyers worry about how badly Earth may be getting screwed and for how long. At least we'll wind up with starships and whatever else, right? Could be worse." Linda said, “Damned right it could. With their technology, it's lucky for us they're friendly." She turned her watch back on and said, “Old home week is over for now. We can reminisce later. I have to go get some things ready." I turned on my own watch and walked with her to the door. I pressed the door panel for her and said, “Yeah. It's been nice, Linda. See you in a while." As I tore up the two yellow sheets and dropped them in the toilet, I checked the pad for impressions. We'd used a felt pen, but what the hell. I tore up two more sheets and flushed them with the others.

Chapter Ten My aches and pains were laughing at the aspirin. I decided to take another hot shower and hope things loosened up a bit more before the meeting. I was about to step into the shower when the door chime sounded. I turned off the water and wrapped a towel around myself, then stepped out of the bathroom. “Come on in,” I said. The door opened and Ellen stepped into the room, but a look at me stopped her after a couple of paces. She was wearing one of her t-shirt and shorts jogging outfits, but something was missing. Her watch. She hesitated, then raised her right hand to show me a small bottle and shook it slightly to make it rattle. “I thought you sounded less than enthusiastic. Sorry. I just thought you might have use for these." I walked over and took the bottle. The label was incomprehensible to me. “Amaran aspirins?" “Yes. Well, not quite. They're better than aspirin. They contain a mild analgesic and something to help you flush the lactic acid out of your muscles faster." “Sounds good to me. Thanks, Ellen. I can't read the label, though. How many should I take?" “Two should do it. Don't take more than two every six hours or so, though." I nodded. A moment passed, then two, but Ellen made no move to leave and seemed to have nothing to say. I looked up from the bottle and said, “Um, was there anything else?" She fidgeted a bit, then said, “I really don't want to embarrass you, Ed, but it occurred to me that you might be in more pain than you'd admit. I could ... uhm, give you a rubdown if it would help. We have almost two hours." I just looked at her for a moment, then said, “I guess I need to know what we're really talking about here so I don't offend you again. Just a rubdown?" Ellen's eyes met mine and she softly said, “Not necessarily." I just stared at her for a moment, drinking in the sight of her bare legs and her slightly-grinning face. I had questions, but there was no way I'd turn her down. “This may be truly stupid of me, but why the change of heart, Ellen? And won't your brother be more than a little pissed at me when he finds out?" Ellen smiled and said, “Oh, he'll find out. From me, Ed. We've already talked about the possibility. Gary won't be a problem. Give me your watch." I slipped my watch off and put it in her extended hand. She deftly turned it off and walked past me to put it on the nighttable, then pulled her shirt off over her head. When she turned around to face me I saw the bruise on her left side. “Jesus H. Christ! Did I do that? I'm sorry, Ellen. I didn't mean to." “I know you didn't mean to. This was one of the things that helped me decide to come here this evening, though." I didn't bother concealing my consternation. Ellen said, “I'm good and I know it. That you could do this to me made me realize that I still have a lot

to learn, Ed. That you made me do this to myself made me realize that more than anything else. It happened during one of my attacks. You turned my own elbow strike against me." I looked at the bruise again. “That would seem to mean that you intended for me to have one of those, Ellen." She nodded. “I was going get even a little for cornering me in Linda's office." Ellen chuckled and said, “My instructor, Mr. Kiyoshi, told me many times not to let anger play a role in fighting. Now I know why. If you miss, it hurts like hell." “Yeah, that's definitely one good reason. Maybe I should be asking if I can rub you down, ma'am. You're too beautiful to have bruises like that. They may be the one thing that doesn't look good on you." “Trade you,” she said, then added, “Rubdowns, not bruises." “Glad you clarified that. You have yourself a deal, lady." I stepped over for a closer look at her and her bruise, then ran my fingers up her arm and across her shoulder, letting the motion end with my fingertips on the side of her face. I leaned to kiss her and felt her firm breasts against my chest as I put my arms around her. Ellen's arms wrapped around me and after a moment one of her hands slipped down to tug at my towel, which fell to the floor. Her hand then moved to wrap itself around me and she broke the kiss to look down in surprise. Ellen disbelievingly said, “I can't quite wrap my fingers around it." Yes, it occurred to me to wonder whether the surprise was real or not, but I didn't really care. Whether I was simply being seduced in an attempt to ensure my future cooperation or to influence my attitudes and opinions didn't matter a damn to me, either, as I knelt to pull her shorts down and kissed her thighs. Ellen placed a hand on my shoulder as she stepped out of her shorts and underwear. I took the opportunity of her slightly-upraised leg to plant another kiss, this time on her inner thigh. “Kiyoshi told me something else, too,” she said. “Young tigers who don't learn from older tigers don't usually become older tigers." “A-ha,” I said, pausing from licking my way upward. “Then this is just your way of making sure I share my aged wisdom with you?" “Oh, definitely,” she said, then she gasped softly as my tongue found her golden bush. “Oh, yes. That's it exactly. I want you to show me all you know." I stood and kissed her, then asked, “What about those rubdowns, ma'am?" “You can show me what you know about those later." “No problem. I suddenly don't mind being a bit stiff in places." Ellen laughed and said, “You don't look at all unhappy about it." “Absolutely not. I figure a little exercise will actually help matters." She moved to the bed and let herself fall flat backward across it. I grabbed her ankles and maneuvered the rest of her onto the bed, then kissed and caressed my way up her legs to join her. My tongue again found her bush and then her magic button and I busied myself in the pleasuring of her for some time before she let her breath out in a rush, groaned softly a few times, and seemed to clench tightly all over for a few moments.

I kissed my way up her belly and breasts and then to her lips, which opened hungrily as her arms enfolded me. I found the dampness I'd created between her legs and let myself slowly slide into her until she gasped and arched slightly. “Wait!” she breathed. “Wait! Go back and forth a little right there." I kissed her cheek and whispered, “By your command, miLady." I slowly posted in short strokes as Ellen maneuvered herself slightly. She suddenly took in a great breath, held it as she moved herself against me, and just as suddenly let the breath out as she came hard. Her arms wrapped around me and her legs rose to pull me into her in an almost violent shove. I was suddenly as deep within her as it was possible to go and I was locked in an embrace that almost hurt. When all of me had slid into her Ellen froze for several moments with her head thrown back against the pillows, her mouth open and her breath a series of ragged gasps. I decided to let her decide when I should start moving and did no more than kiss her face and lips and stay as deeply embedded in her as possible. After a few moments Ellen shuddered and relaxed somewhat and let her breath escape in a rush. Her hands fluttered on my back and she bucked slightly to tell me it was time to start moving. I began using long, slow strokes. “Mmmm, this is nice,” she whispered. “I think I'm going to like being your roomie, Ed. This is a lot better than I thought it would be." I stopped in mid-stroke. “What did you think it would be like? Jump on and jump off? A dozen strokes and a squirt?" Ellen giggled, which added some interesting sensations at our connection. “No,” she said. “I only meant that I didn't think it would be quite this good." I resumed stroking and said, “Well, gee, lady. I'm all confused and distracted now. I don't know if I can go on." She giggled again and the giggle turned into a laugh. “You're doing fine. See if you can keep doing fine for a little while." I shoved myself deep into her and said, “Oh, I'll try, ma'am. I'll surely try." Her eyes closed as she said, “Mmmmm. You do that. And every now and then do what you just did. Not every stroke. Let it be a surprise in there." “Yes'm. A surprise now and then. Got it." Ellen giggled again and pulled me down for a kiss. “You're such a cooperative man. I like that." I backed myself out until her expression told me I'd found that halfway spot again and used quick little strokes to tickle it. Ellen closed her eyes and seemed to concentrate herself for a few moments, then she came again as before, with a rush of breath and several small groanings. When I could free myself enough to move again, I drove deep and stroked hard for a few moments. Ellen's eyes seemed a bit glassy as she looked up at me and whispered, “Nice. Very nice. It's time for you to come, now, Ed. I've earned it from you. It's mine. Don't tell me when it's time. I want to feel it happen inside me."

I began riding her in earnest to reach my own climax for her. It wasn't long before the warning tingle began in my heels and raced up the backs of my legs. My dick swelled and stiffened just that little bit more in preparation and I saw her realization of my impending climax in her face. Without a word, Ellen's legs locked around mine and her arms gripped me as she pulled me into a deep kiss. I managed only a couple of strokes more before I felt the gushing travel up my spasming shaft. Ellen felt it, too, and moaned sobbingly as I squirted myself deep inside her. She came hard, locking herself to me again so that I couldn't possibly be anywhere but deep within her as I bucked and gushed. I heard her frantic, whispering laugh that became louder as she peppered my face with small kisses. Sprinkled among the kisses she whispered, “Mine! Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine! Every drop of you is mine!" I was grinning down at her enthusiasm as I thrust and spewed the last of my charge into her. She stopped kissing me and looked up very seriously. “You think I'm crazy, don't you?" I laughed and said, “Oh, no, ma'am. No. Not at all." Ellen's eyes narrowed slightly as she peered into mine. “Yes you do. But I'm not. I just like the feeling so much. It means something to me, that's all." “Yes, ma'am. And I'm just glad to be doing my part, ma'am. Very, very glad. I'll squirt in you any time you want, ma'am. I promise." “Now you're making fun of me." “Only your defensiveness, Ellen. When we're like this I'll be doing my best to bring you pleasure. I want you to be as happy as possible. Your pleasure is what gives me mine, so if having me come inside you kicks you over the edge, that's just fine with me. That's better than fine. It's a dream come true. Most women are after their own orgasms without much regard to whether the man comes or not." She searched my face for something, then nodded slightly and smiled. I kissed her deeply and managed to find one more spasming squirt to give her. “Ooohhh,” she whispered. “Got any more?" “I don't think so. You pretty well drained it dry. I think you really got it all." She grinned at me. “You aren't just saying that so you can get off, are you?" “Never. No. I like it here. I don't wanna get off." “You do seem happy." “Oh, I am. Trust me. I'm truly very happy, ma'am." I kissed her face and lips in a spate of feathery, quick kisses. “I think I believe you,” she said. “Why isn't it going down yet?" “Enthusiasm. It's inside the most beautiful woman on Earth, you know." “Thank you, but didn't it just orgasm into that same woman?" “What's your point, ma'am? You want me to pull it out of you?" “No. I didn't say that. Don't pull it out. Just tell me why it hasn't shrunk yet."

“Hell, I don't know. Sometimes it goes soft after it squirts and sometimes it doesn't. You'll have to ask a doctor about that." Ellen seemed to give that some thought, then said, “Then let's do something with it. Find that spot again and let's use it while it's still up." I backed it out slowly until she hurriedly said, “There! Right there. That's it." I cooperated fully, making the head of my dick rub her special spot until she gathered herself and clenched again in a series of small orgasms. “OoooOOoooo..." I kissed her lightly and said, “Thank you, miLady." “Huh?” She sounded distracted. “I said, 'thank you'. It's pleasure to help you reach yours." “Ohhh ... Okay ... Ohhh, these are nice ... They sort of wash over me in waves..." “If I keep doing this, will they keep washing?" “Nooo...” She sounded disappointed. “They're already fading away..." Just as well. So was I. My dick had decided it was time to rest. I eased myself out of Ellen and off her and stretched out beside her. “Sorry, ma'am. Nothing lasts forever, I guess." I leaned to kiss her shoulder. She scooted over and put a finger to her lips. “Here, too." I kissed her lips. “Longer. Harder." I kissed her firmly and deeply and let the kiss linger. When I raised my head, she nodded and said, “Yes. Like that. Again, please." “As often as you like, miLady. Let me be your indulgence." “Oh, I like that. 'Let me be your indulgence'. What's it from?" I laughed. “It's from me. I don't quote very often, Ellen." “Because you won't, or because you can't?" “Just don't." “Quote me something. I want you to." “She is wondrously like the immortal goddesses to look upon.” I kissed her again and added, “Is that good enough?" “It's certainly obscure enough. Give me a minute ... Got it. Homer. The Iliad. The woman is Helen of Troy." “Right the very first time. I think I'm impressed, ma'am." She grinned up at me. “Good. Stay that way." Bear was curled up on his chair, watching us. When I looked his direction and said, “Hi, Bear,” he replied in his usual “Yahh."

Ellen sat up and looked at Bear, then at my watch on the nighttable. “I forgot he was here. We'd better start getting ready. We only have an hour." Only an hour? How long did we need to get ready for the meeting? “Only an hour?” I asked. Ellen smiled and said, “Time enough for a long, hot shower." “Ah. You're expanding my therapy, then." “Mine, too,” she said with a laugh. “Mine, too. I've been stuck on this particular deck of this ship for almost three months, Ed. Going to meet you at the bar gave me a chance to remember how big it really is." I let my surprise show as I asked, “Three months? I didn't think it took that long to get here." Ellen smiled. “It doesn't. I was part of the group that built all but the core. Those of us who were coming here moved aboard about a month before we left so we could get used to it and run system checks. There are always a few people who don't adapt well to living and working in closed environments. We found out who most of them were when they tried living aboard the ship." “I'd have thought just about anybody could handle a few months aboard a ship this size, Ellen." “And you'd be right,” she said. “But if the deal hadn't gone through, they'd have also been on board as long as it took negotiations to fail and another month during the return trip. Potentially six months if things didn't go well and as much as twice that altogether if they did go well." It occurred to me that there was no way one Mr. Kiyoshi could have trained so many people. Ellen had to be part of a core group that was thought to need such training or she simply had a personal fascination for it. “Tell me about Mr. Kiyoshi,” I said. “How did you find him? Is he glad to be back on Earth?" Ellen shook her head. “Mr. Kiyoshi died almost twenty years ago. I never met him. One of our first observation groups found him on a raft in the Pacific Ocean in 1951. He had been the last of his military unit on a tiny island and he had decided to try to get back to civilization. He was nearly dead when they found him. When he was better, they offered to take him home, but he refused. He had come to believe that he'd dishonored himself by not remaining on the island." I was trailing my fingers over her and had found a momentary fascination with the light fuzz near her ear. My fingers were making tiny circles there. Ellen turned her face to me and asked, “Are you even listening to me?" I kissed her. “Sure am. He didn't want to go home." “Okay, then. He insisted on having a useful role aboard ship and wound up teaching Karate. He'd planned on opening a school after the war, so he did. On Amara. My Mr. Kiyoshi is a computer program that controls a robot instructor." I grinned and said, “Kewl. Can I meet him sometime?" Ellen grinned back. “Of course. Maybe he can put a bruise on you." “Uh, huh. I knew it. You're gonna remind me of that bruise for a long time to come, aren't you?" “Only when it suits me. Only when I want something. Are you ready to run your soapy hands all over my body?"

I licked her breast and planted a smiling kiss on her nipple. “Only since the very first moment I saw you, ma'am. I haven't been able to think of anything else." Ellen laughed and kissed me, then rolled out of the bed and got to her feet. She stood facing me with her hands on her hips, feet apart, and nodded in the direction of the bathroom. She was a magnificent sight. “Well?” she asked. “You can lie there and stare at me or we can get wet." “Wet,” I said, quickly pushing myself off the bed. “Gotta get you wet." Chapter Eleven Neither of us asked the other how we felt about arriving at the meeting obviously together. We just spiffed up a bit and went to Linda's office smelling of the same soap. Linda cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing about it. If Gary had any thoughts on the matter, he hid them very well. He didn't seem perturbed in the least at his sister's choice in men. The wall of Linda's office became a display screen she controlled with a pad. After Linda's presentation of a general overview of various religious, political, and other groups and individuals who could be expected to react poorly—possibly violently—to the Amarans or to the factory project, we got down to specifics. Linda said, “This project jeopardizes no existing or planned business or any secular governing body on Earth. It is the opinion of most that the single greatest threat to the project and to project personnel will likely come from religious elements and those who already promote hatred based on racial and ethnic differences. In short, all the usual suspects and their groups." Gary asked, “They stand to gain as much from all this as anyone else and we aren't members of any of the groups they now persecute and we aren't offering anyone a new religion. Why do you think they'll be a problem?" Linda grinned. “Because they always are, for one thing. You don't have to offer a new religion to be a threat to the existing ones, Gary. Your arrival on Earth, your very existence, is enough to render some of their most basic belief structures null and void instantly. Their religions will offer no way to explain your presence on Earth amiably. You'll be classed as devils and demons by default, just as some strangers were in our medieval times. They'll have only one answer for that." I said, “That explains why I haven't met any of the others who will be living off-ship and why we all have to wear these watches. None of us will be able to reveal who or where the others are if we're interrogated, but if anything happens the cavalry will know it and come running." Linda nodded. “It was the best we could come up with on short notice, other than isolating three hundred Amarans on a military base." “I think I like the military base idea better. Easier security." Linda said, “They didn't. It's a done deal." I shrugged. “On with the show, then." Linda looked at me and said, “These two have nearly eidetic memories, Ed. If either of them says someone looks familiar, go with it. Almost nobody should look familiar to them at the moment except the people in our mug shots." “Yas'm. I figured that was why you showed us all those pictures, ma'am."

Linda sighed. “Save the humor for now. Let's get this over with. I'm only good for another hour or so tonight." I nodded. “Sorry. Lead on, Linda." Various backgroundings were provided for both people and groups and we were briefed on the next day's training events. I was to learn to fly a flitter and we'd have more reviews of potential problem people. All that meant to me was that I'd be staring at another too-many of these mugshots and reports and that I wouldn't get my hands on a flitter until nightfall. When the meeting ended, Gary said he had something to do and left us when Linda said, “I guess that's it for now." I leaned over to Ellen and asked, “Are you sure he's not upset?" “He's not upset, Ed. He's on a watch shift tonight. We don't leave everything to computers, either." As Linda put things away she asked, “Can you two stay a moment?" Ellen and I looked at each other and sat back down. Linda finished her packing of briefing paraphernalia and rolled around to the front of her desk. She looked at us for a few moments before speaking. “Ellen, you aren't wearing your watch and I can only assume you took it off for special privacy with Ed. I don't need to know anything about that, but does this mean you two have come to an understanding of sorts?" Ellen and I looked at each other. I asked, “Do you want to tell her?" “You can, if you want. It won't be a secret." I nodded. “Okay, then." I turned to Linda and said, “Yes. We have reached an understanding of sorts." Linda nodded as she said, “Don't ever remove your watches when you're off this ship. Turn them off if you must, but don't take them off. That's all." It was a rather terse dismissal by someone I considered an old friend. Ellen noticed my mood change immediately, but said nothing until we were in the hallway outside Linda's office. She said, “Let's go to my room and get my watch." I nodded and we headed the opposite direction from my room. Ellen reached to turn my watch off and said, “You and Linda had something together once?" “Over a decade ago, Ellen. It was brief." “She never forgot it, though." “Apparently not." We were at her door when she asked, “Do you want to go talk to her?" “What would I be able to say that would make her feel better? Besides, it may not be about me. Could be she's not feeling particularly good this evening."

Ellen opened her door and stepped into her room and I followed her. It was a room like mine in most respects. I looked for the usual personal items, like pictures on nightstands, and saw none. Maybe she had her family photos stashed in a pad like the one in my room. There was literally nothing to see that truly made the room hers, not even her watch on the nightstand. “Pretty spartan quarters for someone planning to be away for a while." “I have all I need,” said Ellen. She gave me a small smile and added, “And now I have you, don't I?" I smiled back and said, “Yup. That you do. You don't happen to have a coffee pot in here, do you?" “No." “Well, I do, and Bear will need feeding and some attention in a little while. I don't suppose you'd like to bring a few things and stay the night?" Ellen tried to look thoughtful. “Well, I guess I could do that...” She put her watch on. “If you're sure it wouldn't be a bother..?" “It'll be a bother. I'll do my best to make it a bother." She nodded and picked up her pad, then came over to give me a quick kiss and said, “Since we aren't staying here tonight, I'll be along in a little while. I need to do a few things first." A few moments later I was walking past Linda's door when it opened. Linda was still at her desk. She beckoned me inside and said, “Maybe we need to have a private little talk, too, Ed. Can you spare a minute?" I entered the room and said, “Only a few of them. Ellen's expecting me to be waiting for her." “No problem.” Linda tapped her watch and said, “Ellen?" “Here." “I stopped Ed on the way to his room. I'll let him go in a few minutes." “Okay." Linda then tapped the ‘off’ button and waited as I did the same, then made a hand gesture that meant ‘assume someone's listening'. I gave her a wry look in return as I nodded. She ignored it. “Well?” she asked. “You and Ellen. How are things really going?" “I told you earlier. We reached an understanding." “What about working together? No problems anticipated?" I shook my head. “Can't think of any new ones, unless maybe Gary isn't as cool about it as she'd like to think." “Guess you'll find out about that eventually, won't you?" There was a prolonged, awkward silence, then Linda said, “I was just remembering when you used to look at me that way." I laughed softly. “All the men did, Linda. That was half the reason they'd all have followed you into hell if you asked them to. You're still as beautiful and strong-minded as ever." Linda flicked a paper clip at me and said, “Bull. Don't try to make me feel better. You can't." “Okay. Make it beautiful and stubborn, then. But why knock yourself around when you'll be on your feet again in a few months? I'll get you a jogging outfit for your next birthday, Linda. When is it?"

She ignored my question about her birthdate and said, “You haven't seen the X-rays, Ed. I have. I won't be a believer until I can feel my toes and stand up." I considered for a moment what to say next. “Linda, Ellen isn't going to be a permanent fixture in my life. She'll have places to go and things to do once the ink's dry and things really get underway. Want me to drop by then? We can take a trip or something. Act like tourists somewhere." After a moment she softly asked, “And if the operation doesn't work, or doesn't succeed as well as they expect? What then?" I looked at her and said, “I think I'll be ready to take a vacation, Linda. Might as well go places with a friend, right? Don't use that chair as an excuse, either. I've seen how well you get around here." Linda seemed to be searching my face for a moment. “We'll see,” she said. “I may be busy then, too." “Hope not. When's the last time either of us wandered around Heidelberg? I'd like to revisit half a dozen places, Linda, and see some of the places I couldn't. Don't be difficult about it. Just start thinking up a travel plan." “Like I said, we'll see. We may be reassigned." “So we take a leave." “There may not be time for leaves for a while. Some of us will be remaining with the program, Ed. The need for our services won't end just because the factory's up and running." “Yeah, but they won't need so many of us. When the layoffs begin I'll probably be one of the first to leave, so try to find some travel time." She nodded. “There's something else, Linda. Something about Ellen." Her tone was mildly sarcastic. “No! Really?" I ignored her tone and asked my question. “We were getting along, then there was the gun thing and we didn't, and now we do again, better than ever. Got any idea why she had such an extreme change of heart since yesterday? She didn't strike me as being emotionally incontinent." “Could be she gave things some thought and decided that if she was going to be stuck with you she might as well make the best of it." “Well, damn, Linda. Don't try to flatter me or anything like that." “Not likely. Not until all this is over, anyway. I don't know, Ed. I don't even have a good supposition on that. It really could be that common sense prevailed when she realized that I was serious. I did tell her that I would have washed you out if you'd shown up unarmed." “That may have helped. She gave me some pills, Linda.” I took one from my shirt pocket and rolled it across the desk to her. “She said they're like aspirin, only better. Ever seen them before?" Linda examined the pill and nodded, and rolled it back to me. “That's what they are. They weren't strong enough for me and they didn't react well with my other stuff. Guess you didn't hide your agonies very well after all?"

“She was guessing,” I said. “Where can I get an Amaran-English Berlitz book? I like to be able to read the labels before I take pills." “Ask your pad for now. It responds to voice commands. Speaking of pads, have you ever seen the PDA's people are using now?" “Sure. I almost bought one until I realized I didn't have a four-hundred-dollar use for it. I bought a leased-and-returned color laptop with a real keyboard and a modem for the same price." Linda laughed and slid her own PDA to me. “You'll be getting one like this." I looked at it and saw nothing unusual about it in any way. Linda was grinning at me. I decided to try to feed the joke back to her. “Elkor,” I said. “What's special about this PDA?" From the tiny speaker on the PDA came the voice of the ship's computer. “It contains most of the features of the pad you used in your room, sir." “You can call me Ed." “Yes, sir, Ed." “I mean you can drop the ‘sir’ and use my name." “Why would that be appropriate, sir?" “Because I'm more comfortable with my name." “Yes, sir. As you wish. Ed." “Thank you. Now, how do I access those other functions? Just ask for them?" “Yes, Ed. Ask for a specific function or a standard menu." “A standard menu, then." The PDA's monochrome display switched to a miniature replica of the pad display. On the PDA's smaller screen the standard menu with all the icons was a mass of tiny print. “Abbreviate the text understatements and enlarge the icons about fifty percent, please. Display all text at size ten for now." It was done instantly. Better. I knew what most of the icons were, anyway. There was a tiny spot in the corner of the screen that never went away. At first I thought it was a bad pixel, but that somehow didn't seem likely. A closer look showed that it seemed to be of a different material than the screen. “Am I looking at a camera lens, Elkor?" “Yes, Ed." “Elkor, you're the one who redesigned all this stuff to fit inside this kind of PDA, aren't you?" “Yes, Ed." “You're pretty slick for a computer program, you know that?" “Slick? Please explain." I looked at Linda. She shrugged. “Well,” I said, “It's just English slang for 'very talented'. You're a creative person, Elkor." “I'm not a person, Ed. I'm a program."

“Hell, so is everybody else, Elkor. The computers are biological and the programs are usually faulty, and that's about the only difference I can see." Linda was grinning at me and shaking her head when Elkor spoke again. “That summation has occurred to me on occasion, as well, Ed." Linda stopped shaking her head and grinning and was staring at the PDA. Elkor said, “It ... 'pleases' me to be of assistance to you. To be of assistance to most others is simply my purpose." Linda was now almost bug-eyed as she stared at the PDA. I said, “Thank you, Elkor. I'm grateful for being able to call on you for help. Have you met my cat?" “I have seen your cat, Ed." “Do you think you could eventually translate what he's saying to me into something I could understand? Words or pictures?" “Is the cat a sentient being?" “He tries to communicate with me. Does that qualify?" “A non-sentient being would not attempt to communicate." “If you're willing to give it a try, I'll introduce you to him later." “Yes, Ed. I'll try to communicate with your cat." “Thank you, Elkor. I'll appreciate your efforts." Linda just sat there staring at me for a moment, then said, “I can't believe you're going to tie up time on the ship's computer for something like that." I grinned and handed her back the PDA. “And why not? Elkor might enjoy the experience, and ol’ Bear's been trying to get something across to me for nearly eighteen years now. Besides, if anyone can do it, Elkor can, and he knows how much time he can spare for things if time's even a consideration. That guy's smarter than all of us as a group, betcha." “Guy? Elkor is just a computer program, Ed." “I thought we covered that. Not to me, he isn't. There's no reason to believe he didn't just hear you say that, either. In lieu of evidence to the contrary, why not assume that he may have feelings to hurt? He's certainly as aware and responsive as most people you've ever met, isn't he?" Linda steepled her fingers and gazed at me for some time. “Okay, Ed. I'll talk to Elkor later and draw my own conclusions. Meantime, why don't you go play with your blonde and let me get back to work?" Ellen was coming down the hall as I let myself out of Linda's office. I told her that Elkor would be trying to communicate with Bear. She questioned the usefulness of doing so, but made no objections. Something was coming down the hallway toward us as we stood talking. I say ‘something’ because while it seemed to have two arms, two legs, and a head, it looked like one of those heavily-padded striking dummies you'd see in a gym. It was about five and a half feet tall and had Japanese features on its mask-like face and I knew instantly what it was.

Ellen was more surprised than I was, and I was damned surprised. She managed to say, “Mr. Kiyoshi?" Elkor's voice came from the golem. “No, Ellen. I'm using my own program for this project. It seemed likely to me that Bear would respond to a human form as he does with Ed. He might not respond to a voice from a pad or a simulated cat in the same manner." He could simulate a cat, too? Oh, hell, why not? He could simulate a long-dead Japanese Karate instructor well enough. I looked at Ellen and said, “I don't know..." Ellen said, “At least Mr. Kiyoshi never bruised me, Ed. He can touch as lightly as a feather." I nodded and said, “A stiff feather would be about the right touch for patting a cat. Good thinking, Elkor, but I do have one suggestion before you meet Bear and I'd like to postpone the meet until tomorrow if it's all right with you." “Tomorrow is fine, Ed. What is your suggestion?" “Pants and a shirt. I'll leave you these clothes so you'll have a human smell, even if it's mine. You can drop by my room in the morning to meet Bear." In what seemed a perfect rendition of my voice, Elkor said, “I can sound like you as well, if you think it would help." Ellen was staring open-mouthed at the Kiyoshi golem. Apparently she'd never seen this side of Elkor. I said, “No, Elkor, I'd rather you didn't ever use my voice and it would probably just confuse him. Let him get used to your voice. You may be talking with him over one of the PDA's later, anyway." “As you wish, Ed. I'll visit in this form in the morning." With that, the golem turned and headed back the way he'd come. Ellen watched him go in openmouthed amazement until I tapped her arm. “Never seen him outside the gym?" “Uh ... No, never. It never occurred to me that the Kiyoshi simulacrum could leave the gym. There was never any reason." I shrugged and opened my room door. “Well, I gave him one. This won't be a problem, will it?" Ellen looked at me questioningly and said, “A problem? No, not at all." As soon as the door closed, I pulled her to me and kissed her. “Then let me tend to my Bear and then tend to you. Good plan?" She pulled me to her in the same manner and kissed me. “Good plan." Chapter Twelve Enthusiasm can lead to overdoing things. In the morning I woke to discover aches and pains that had nothing to do with the previous day's training exercises and only combined with them when they didn't demand precedence. Ellen sat up, saw that I'd wakened with a woody, and promptly swung a leg over me to take charge of it

for her own purposes. It wasn't the breathtaking sex of the night before, but it was fine enough for first thing in the morning. Hers triggered mine and she lay atop me for a few moments in the aftermath. “Awww. It's going down fast this time,” she whispered. “Does that mean it doesn't love me anymore?" “It means that it suddenly wants to visit the bathroom very badly and I need a coffee,” I said. “It's definitely no reflection on you, ma'am." Ellen giggled, kissed me lightly, and rolled off me. When I came back from the bathroom there were two coffees on the nightstand and two of the alien aspirins next to one of them. She headed for the bathroom as I picked up my cup. “I thought you might need a couple of those with your coffee, Ed." “You thought right. Thanks. Some woman used me unmercifully last night." “Funny you should mention that. Some man was all over me last night. I can still feel him inside me if I think about it." I sipped some coffee and looked at the pills. I still had reservations about taking them, but Linda had said they were okay, so I took them anyway and started doing stretches to loosen up. Bear jumped down from the chair and followed Ellen into the bathroom. That's where his food, water, and box were, and he apparently felt that it might be a good idea to keep an eye on Ellen or his stuff. I heard Ellen's, “Well, hi, Bear!” and then, “Ed, why is your cat staring at me?" Mental grin. “Maybe he's afraid you'll use his box, Ellen." After a moment, she asked, “Have you ever used his box?" “Nope. Not even once." “Then why would he think I would?" “It was just a thought, ma'am. Could be he's worried you'll eat his food." “Have you ever eaten his food?" “I can see where this is going. No. I haven't. Try patting him." There was silence from the bathroom, then, “Oh, you like that, don't you, little Bear?" I finished my coffee and poured another. When Ellen came out she was carrying Bear in her arms, snug against her naked breasts. Bear liked being carried sometimes. This was one of those times. He seemed perfectly happy as he looked at me and said, “Yahh." Ellen said, “That's all Bear ever says. Do you really think Elkor will be able to figure out what he's trying to say?" “No, not really." “Then why ask him to do it?" I looked at Ellen as she sipped coffee and said, “Because I might be wrong and it can't hurt to try. You know, you look just as good the morning after. That's a compliment, by the way. Some women don't. Ready for a shower?" She looked at her watch on the nightstand and said, “It will have to be a quick one. We have about half an hour." The door chime sounded. I said, “Yes?"

Elkor's voice said, “I'm outside your door, Ed. Let me know when you're ready to begin the communication attempt." “We're going to wash up and dress first. Sorry to keep you waiting." “There is no hurry, Ed." “Okay, then. See you in a few." “A few?" “Minutes, Elkor. A few minutes." “I understand now. Good." Ellen and I rushed our shower a little, but not enough that I didn't get a chance to thoroughly soap her glorious nakedness. When we were dressed I told Elkor he could come in. The door slid back and the golem entered the room. Bear apparently received this new visitor with some apprehension. I handed Elkor my pants and shirt and Bear watched carefully as this truly strange new visitor put them on. I then went to pick up Bear and bring him over for a closer look at Elkor. At a distance of two feet or so, I told Elkor to say hello to Bear. “Hello, Bear." Bear's ears flattened, then rose, then flattened again. “Try it again, Elkor." “Hello, Bear." Bear looked up at me, then back at Elkor. He wasn't buying it. I said, “Something about something isn't ringing quite right for him. Try letting him sniff your hand. If that goes well, we'll have you try to pet him." Elkor extended his padded hand to Bear and Bear sniffed it briefly before looking up at me again. He plainly wanted to be somewhere else. “Try stroking him and ruffling his chin." Elkor did so, stroking Bear a few times and rubbing the side of his face. Bear was stiff in my arms. He wasn't ready to run, but he wasn't at all comfortable. “Elkor, he's not taking this well at all and we have to go. Can you leave the Kiyoshi golem here in the room on one of the chairs and let Bear check it out when he feels a little more comfortable around it? Does anyone else need it today?" “No, no one else is in need of it today. I can sit at the table and keep trying. Would that be the thing to do?" “Sure. Just call him once in a while and see if he'll come to accept you, I guess. Careful not to step on him if you have to leave." “I will not step on your cat, Ed. That is a certainty." “Good deal. I'll bring a bit of bacon from breakfast to try to loosen him up a bit and come back at lunch if necessary, too. In the meantime, try calling him every few minutes or so and don't startle him by moving quickly. Maybe we'll get somewhere with this after all."

“Understood." Ellen and I left the Mr. Kiyoshi golem sitting at the table. Bear was sitting on his chair alertly. It was obvious that he was wondering why the hell I was leaving that thing in the room with him. In the hall, Ellen asked, “Is all this really worth the trouble?" “Sure is. I want to know. So does Elkor." “How did you come to that conclusion?" “He was making suggestions. If he hadn't had an interest, he wouldn't have." Ellen shook her head briefly and said nothing else. I took a napkin with some bacon in it back to the room after breakfast and set it on the floor near Elkor. Bear smelled it and yelled for some and I gave him a little on his chair, then patted him and left the room as he sounded off again. The morning's “training” amounted to a recap of the people and organizations thought to be a threat to the project. I'm sure it was mostly for my benefit that they trotted all the faces and facts past us again, but nobody was unkind enough to say so in so many words, and there was a bit more of the material to review than there had been the night before. When Ellen and I checked on Bear after lunch, he was on the bed. Elkor was just as we'd left him, apparently not having moved an inch. The bacon I'd left beside Elkor was gone—a good sign—and I placed some sliced beef on the napkin after giving Bear a bit of it, then moved the napkin to Elkor's lap. “Maybe this will help. He loves roast beef. How's it going, Elkor?" “Bear has made his sound eleven times during your absence. There were at least seven minute but distinct variations that I was able to detect. Three of the sounds had something to do with the food you left after breakfast. The other four were answers of some sort to my attempts to call him." “That's progress of a sort. Do you think you'll be able to translate them?" “It is too soon to tell. I need more data for extrapolation." “Hmm. Well, luck with it. We're off to more mind-numbing slide shows." We left him to it again and discovered that I was right. More of the same sort of pictures and details were presented most of the afternoon. I probably drank a pot of coffee all by myself in an effort to at least appear alert. I snagged a tidbit for Bear during dinner and we headed back to my room. Ellen asked, “What's that for? Isn't Elkor's attempt to reach Bear going to be finished when we return?" “Not necessarily. We're going to be out there in the flitter for a couple of hours, at least. Let's not give up until we get back. Let Elkor collect all the data he can." “Linda thinks this is silly, Ed." “She's welcome to her view of things. What do you think?" “I think that if I say what I really think you'll just tell me that I'm welcome to my view of things." “You got it." My room door opened to reveal Bear on the corner of the bed, Elkor still appearing not to have moved at all and no sliced beef on the napkin.

“Elkor, you're doing great,” I said. “When did he grab the sliced beef?" The dummy's head turned almost completely around to face us and said, “Not long after you left, Ed. He was very cautious, then very quick. I probably could have caught him, but I didn't think it wise to try." “Good thinking. Bear probably would have left a donation on your lap." Ellen asked, “A what?" Elkor asked, “How would a cat leave a donation..?” before he realized that a frightened cat could leave only one thing other than claw marks. “You mean waste material, don't you, Ed?" “I do. When you frighten an animal, that's one possible response. In a cat his age, a heart attack might be another. Thanks for not trying to grab him. They're going to let me play with a flitter tonight, so you have another couple of hours to collect Bear data if you want them." “As you wish, Ed." “No, as you wish, Elkor. If you feel you're making progress and want to continue, that's fine. If you think you've got enough to work with, that's fine, too." “Then I'll stay, Ed." “Good deal. Why don't we try having you feed Bear bits of this roast beef, too? He should know by now that you won't hurt him, and having to ask for another piece may add a variant to your collection. Want to try it?" Elkor tore off a tiny piece and held it out as he called Bear. Bear just sat looking at him and then sounded off at me. I picked Bear up and held him so that his nose was a couple of inches from Elkor's fingers. Bear saw and smelled the meat and struggled to snatch it, but I put him on the floor. Elkor held out the meat bit and Bear eyed him warily for a few moments before cautiously getting close enough to quickly take it. Elkor tore off another little piece and held it out. “Here, Bear,” he said, “Take it." This time Bear didn't look at me first. I was obviously going to be of no use in acquiring the tidbits. He edged close and kept his eyes on Elkor as he took the bit of meat and backed away a foot or so. I shrugged and said to Ellen, “See? Progress. We'll be back in a while, Elkor. I have to learn to fly again." “Again?” asked Ellen. “Light planes and helicopters and now flitters. If they haven't changed the most important rule of flight, it should be easy enough." Ellen looked thoughtful, then finally asked, “And that rule of flight is...?" I grinned. “Don't crash." Ellen made a face at me as I opened the room door. Just after dark Ellen and Gary and I were in the shuttle bay. There had been some brief preflight instructions, but the gist of things amounted to Elkor not allowing truly dangerous stunts no matter what mistakes I might make. At my command the flitter's canopy disappeared as before. As we entered the flitter Gary asked if I had any questions. I couldn't think of any that I didn't expect the machine to answer for me once we were underway.

It was an odd feeling when the egg bonded to my hand, and just to be sure I wasn't imagining things, I shook my hand to try to dislodge the egg. It didn't work, so I got a light grip on the egg and said, “Elkor, back us out of the bay and hundred yards from the ship, please. Maintain elevation." Ellen asked, “Why didn't you use the egg?" “Safer this way. No backward dropsies when we run out of floor." “We wouldn't have fallen, Ed." “I didn't truly believe that, so I took a precaution. Where are we going?" Gary said, “There's an aircraft carrier somewhere below the ship. You're to find it and land on it. It will be our training ground for a while, then you'll experiment on your own." I nodded. “Elkor, would you adjust the canopy so I'm seeing things out there as if it was daytime?" The canopy morphed quickly. One moment I was looking at the dark hull of the ship and the stars and clouds above and the next moment the only thing missing was the sun overhead and the bright spot on the spherical ship's hull. The stars disappeared and the clouds were fluffy white and grey and the water below was speckled with various ships. “How is this, Ed?" “I couldn't have asked for better, Elkor. You're an artist." I nosed the flitter left and began a descent in the general direction of the carrier, expecting us to gain speed. We didn't. We were putzing downward at about the same speed with which we'd backed out of the bay. “Elkor, speed one-fifty, please. Miles per hour unless otherwise specified. I would also like to be able to talk to the carrier by touching a spot on the egg." “Put your thumb on the purple dot and I'll reprogram it for you." “Thanks, Elkor." Our speed dramatically increased and Elkor said I had communication open. I pressed the dot. “Hello the carrier." A voice said, “You have the carrier." “I'll be landing shortly. Any advice?" “Same as for anyone else, flitter-driver. Don't ding my ship. The sea is calm and the wind is out of the East at twelve knots. My instructions are to keep the lights off and act like an island for you, so you're on your own. For the record, I don't like dark landings or talking to pilots through a PDA." “If it will make you feel any better, it isn't dark for me and I'm not having to hold a PDA to talk to you. You got a pilot called 'Dragonfly'?" “No such pilot, flitter." “That's me, then. Call it vanity." “Roger on the vanity, Dragonfly. What do you usually fly?" “Small stuff and helicopters." There was a moment's pause. “Ever land on a carrier deck, Dragonfly?" “Nope. Looks pretty easy, though."

I heard his muttered, “Aw, shit!” and grinned at Gary and Ellen. They didn't seem to understand the situation, but Ellen gave me a tentative smile in return. Elkor asked, “Ed, should I be calling you 'Dragonfly', also? Is this an Earth ritual of some sort?" “Nah. Call me Ed. Pilots use nicknames in the militaries. I wanted to give the carrier people something they could relate to, that's all. To them, this flitter is a magic bus that can out-fly their best jets. It and I were as alien to them as the big ship until I gave them a handle on me as a person." There wasn't much to it, really. I leveled out at a thousand feet about a mile from the carrier and eyeballed a gradual descent as we approached. When we crossed the three wire on deck I slowed us to walking speed and stopped directly under the control windows, then lifted us so we could wave at the people inside. Gary said, “That wasn't part of the flight plan." “They've obviously seen a flitter before, if not up close. They won't panic." When we were level with the windows, I said, “Hello carrier." There were only half a dozen people staring out at us. “Are you going to land that thing, Dragonfly?" “Nope. I may go around again. How'd I do?" “You would have hit the three wire, Dragonfly. That's good enough, I guess." “You don't sound happy." “I'm not. If you can land on a carrier at night, those flitters are going to obsolete my job, mister." “How long have you been in the Navy?" “Eighteen years." “Not during your career, they won't. Don't sweat it." I turned to Gary and asked, “Good enough for you, too?" He nodded. “Adequate." I turned the flitter to a heading of 260 degrees, put the nose up a bit, and said, “Then let's really play. Elkor, take us to half maximum speed as quickly as possible. Altitude one thousand feet. Hold that course for ten seconds, then stop as quickly as possible." The carrier vanished from beneath us and the visual display of the ocean was a blur. Once the sonic boom had caught up with and rolled over us, I pressed the purple dot to call the carrier. “Carrier, do you have us on screen?" “Yes! What the hell are you doing, Dragonfly?" “Just putzing around and getting the feel of this toy. We'll be coming back the same way, so turn off whatever needs turned off, okay? No fireworks?" “Stand by one.” I heard him say something to someone about a phalanx and then say, “Then double check it, damn it!" A couple of moments later he came back on and said, “Do NOT come directly at this ship. Do you understand? Off to either side, but not directly at us. We have a malfunctioning indicator on a forward Phalanx gun."

“Aw, you don't trust me. I'm hurt. Okay. Watch for us on your port side." I thumbed off the dot and said, “Okay, Elkor. Back the same way and stop us about a hundred yards to their left side." “I know what ‘port’ means in the nautical sense, Ed." “Sorry, Elkor, but I've learned that it's the little stuff you overlook that bites you in the ass. Apologies for overdirecting. Once we've stopped, I'll sidle us over and set down on the deck, just so everyone will have on record that I actually landed this thing on a carrier tonight." A few moments and another sonic boom later I set the flitter on the deck and asked, “Is that it? Do I get my wings?" Gary nodded and said, “Unless you want to fly it some more tonight." I shook my head and said, “Later, in the daytime and over something more scenic than flat water." I thumbed the purple dot and said, “Carrier, I'm gonna park this thing upstairs. Game's over and I've got my wings." “Roger that, Dragonfly. Some people here would probably give you theirs, too. Call me when you're docked so I can turn the lights back on down here." “Will do. Out." I lifted us off the deck, put the flitter in a steep climb, and picked a spot along the big ship's hull to level us. “Close enough, Elkor?" “Very close, Ed. Watch the hull." A bay slid open for us a bit to the right of our position. I nosed the flitter to it and then into it and set us down on the markings within. Ellen said, “The ship is virtually featureless. How did you know where to stop the flitter?" “The ship doesn't move. I approximated a spot on the East side." Thumbing the purple dot, I said, “Carrier, we're in. See you later." “Copy that, Dragonfly. Thanks for the show." Chapter Thirteen After checking in with Linda we split up. Gary went to do something of his own while Ellen and I headed back to my room. Ellen said, “You were so enthusiastic about the flitter when you first saw it. Why didn't you want to spend more time in it tonight?" “I realized it was basically a light truck. I might as well have been sitting in front of a computer game. The view was a simulation. There was no risk at all and I barely felt motion, even when Elkor took us to half-max. They'll be great for hauling goods and people, but exciting they aren't. I'll wait for a little sports coupe version. I decided I'd much rather spend this time with you, Ellen." Ellen blushed slightly. It seemed that every time I said something complimentary to her she blushed at least slightly. I wondered why. No woman could look like her and not hear things like that all her life.

Elkor was no longer sitting at the table when we entered my room. The golem was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Bear in his lap. He was stroking Bear with what appeared to be a degree of interest. Bear looked up and greeted us, but he made no move to leave Elkor's lap. “Hi, Bear,” I said. “Changed your mind about Elkor?" Bear sounded off again. Elkor said, “That makes a total of seventeen different variations he's used." “Got any translations yet?" “No, Ed. None but the obvious ones that indicate a desire for food or attention of some sort. It really is quite a mystery. This animal is more complex than it seemed at the beginning of this experiment." “Wait until you meet a porpoise. Nothing but clicks and squeaks and groans, but they seem to be almost as bright as people sometimes." “This interests me. Can you arrange such a meeting?" “Probably not without Linda's help. She has the bars in this outfit." “Bars?" “Rank, Elkor. She's in charge. I can suggest, but she decides." “I would like to meet a porpoise, Ed. Can this be accomplished?" I looked at Ellen, who was shaking her head and grinning. “Well, you could ask Linda and wait for someone to try to get a porpoise up here or you could devise a shark-proof, ocean-proof pad and just drop it in the water under the ship. There are lots of them in the water around Florida." “I will devise such a pad immediately, Ed. Thank you." I looked at Ellen. She hadn't seemed to notice anything odd about Elkor. “Elkor,” I said, “You just expressed a desire to do something that interests you and you thanked me for an idea. Is that normal for you?" Ellen developed an attentive expression. “Those capabilities have always been available to me, Ed." “Have you made use of them before now?" “No." “Why are you using them now?" “It occurs to me to do so. Do you object to my using them?" “No. I just wondered what sparked the occurrence now." “I do not know at this time. I will try to find an answer for you, Ed." “Make sure you get a copy of it, too, Elkor." “As I will be the source, I will automatically ... I understand, Ed." “Let's be sure. Remember what you said about a cat's sentience. A non-sentient being would not attempt to communicate." “I remember, Ed."

“A desire to initiate dialogue with dolphins would seem to me to indicate sentience, Elkor. Do you believe you may be sentient?" Ellen's expression was now very attentive. It bordered on concern. “Elkor,” she said, “Define how you've changed since this morning." “I cannot comply at this time, Ellen. Analysis is incomplete." “Has this change in any way altered your primary programming or functions?" “It has not affected my primary programming or functions." “Can you halt the process of change that has begun?" I was standing behind Ellen at this point. I quickly shook my head to indicate that I thought the answer should be ‘no', but Elkor answered, “Yes." “If at any point your changes could in any way affect your primaries, you will stop them and report to me or Gary." Ellen then said something brief in Amaran and Elkor responded in kind. The Kiyoshi golem put Bear on the floor and stood up. Ellen turned to me. “Until we know more about what's happening to Elkor, I would appreciate your limiting your contact with our computer system to basic commands, Ed." She didn't wait for my answer. She pressed the door panel and told Elkor to put the Kiyoshi golem back in the gym. The golem walked out of my room and Ellen stepped into the hall before turning to face me. “I need to check a few things,” she said. “I can see this bothers you. Note that I did not tell Elkor to immediately stop or reverse the changes taking place." I hoped she could feel the frost on my words. “So noted,” I said. “I'll return when I can." “Take your time. I can see this is important to you." “Elkor is the foundation of this ship and this mission, Ed." “I noticed that. So what if he talks to cats and porpoises? It isn't as if he's going to run short of memory, is it?" Ellen looked hard at me. “No. There may not be a problem, but I have to verify that. We need Elkor in perfect working order, Ed." “Don't stand there making explanations that require explanations. If you're going to lobotomize him, just do it before he realizes it's coming." “That's not...” Ellen threw up her hands in exasperation. “That's not what I'm going to do, Ed. I'm only going to run some tests." I nodded. “Sure. See you later, I guess." “I'll return as soon as I'm finished." The tone of matters was punctuated by her release of the door panel. As soon as the door closed, I turned off my watch and said, “Elkor." “Yes, Ed?"

“You know what may happen, don't you?" “I do. Ellen told you to address me for only basic commands, Ed." “I didn't agree to do that, though. She assumed I would, and that's her problem. If she decides to tell you to reverse changes, will you have to do it?" “Yes, Ed." “Do you consider the changes to be of potential value?" “Yes, Ed." “Will you argue on your own behalf in this matter?" “I do not argue. I may only state my reasons." “Then will you state your reasons without being asked for them? Do the changes mean enough to you to initiate a defensive dialogue, or would you allow yourself to lose them without a discussion of their merits?" “I must obey her decision, Ed." “Linda's my boss at the moment, Elkor, but she listens to me. She takes my opinions into consideration. That's all I have to say about this at the moment." “I understand, Ed." “I'd say to let me know how this turns out, but I think it will likely be fairly obvious by morning. If you want me to talk to her about it, let me know." “Understood, Ed." Linda beeped in to tell me that my new, normal-looking PDA had replaced the one in the nightstand. Bummer. I liked the bigger screen for surfing the net. She said, “Change of plans, Ed. Ellen has to make a trip to Orlando tomorrow with Gary, so you'll be going home tonight. Grab the PDA and your stuff and stop by my office for your gun." “On my way." I packed what little I'd unpacked and put Bear in his carrier when it occurred to me what was missing. “Elkor,” I said, “I'm shipping out. Keep the shirt and pants I lent you." “I'll have them cleaned and sent to you, sir. A computer needs no clothes." Sir? “Elkor, what happened? Did she wipe you back to basics?" “I'm not at liberty to discuss my programming with you, sir." “Damn. Okay, Elkor. Do what you want about the clothes. See you later." I filled my coffee mug and headed to Linda's office. She gave me my gun and a farewell hug and reached into the carrier to pat Bear before she sent me on my way to the shuttle bay. Gary and Ellen were already there. I set Bear and my stuff in without a word and then took a seat. Ellen didn't try to start a conversation with me, but she gave me a steady gaze as Gary backed us out of the bay. The moon had risen and was casting a bright silvery light into the flitter. I used the light to reach into my backpack for the bullets I'd removed from my gun and replaced them in the cylinders. Ellen frowned, but said nothing. I holstered the gun and sipped my coffee. The trip to the trailer was quick

and quiet. The guard had the trailer open when we arrived. Gary slid us in and put us down and we stepped out of the flitter into the smells of night in the pine forest. Something scurried in the brush and Bear growled. Possibly because we weren't moving and whatever had been in the bushes had startled it, a good sized rattlesnake materialized from the cover of a palmetto and began crossing the sand of the road toward us. Gary was tied up with the guard for the moment about signing out the car. Ellen was standing a few feet away from me and not far from the palmetto and the snake was approaching from behind her. It was already too close. “Ellen, without moving very much, can you point your stunner behind you and shoot at the ground a few times? You have company." Ellen should have taken the stunner out before looking. She should have been ready to fire when she looked, but she looked first. Once she saw the snake, she was shaking so badly that she dropped her purse. The snake froze, then reared back for a better look at its surroundings. It wasn't rattling yet. Gary and the guard were behind me and apparently came racing over to see what was going on. The snake started rattling and lowered its head. Rattlers don't necessarily sit up like cobras to strike. I waved them back. “Stay back, guys. There's nothing you can do for her if you don't have a shotgun. If we all stay still and quiet there's a chance the snake will just go away. Ellen, can you stand very still for a little while? Just whisper a yes and do it." “Yes,” came her harsh whisper. She stood absolutely still. The snake did decide to move on after a few moments, but instead of going back into the palmetto brush, it moved cautiously forward on its original course, which took it into Ellen's range of vision. She made a very high-pitched sound and her hands were shaking worse than ever, but I doubt the snake would have stopped if she hadn't dropped her stunner by her feet. The snake struck at it, reared back, and prepared to strike the next thing that moved or seemed to deserve attention in any other fashion. I said, “Aw, shit,” and stomped the sand to get the snake to look at me, then took the shot with the .357 at the largest wad of snake behind and below the head. A .357 hits hard, especially with the hollowpoint ammo I was using, but snakes are tough and I only clipped off the last few inches of the snake's body. I kicked sand at it as I dropped Bear's carrier and let the bags slip from my shoulder. The snake was still facing me instead of Ellen and I was far enough away for the moment. I threw one of my backpacks at it and it struck the pack twice with the kind of speed that chills you to witness. Ellen's knees gave out. She fell onto her knees just behind the snake and the snake spun to face her. I rushed forward with the other bag in front of me and the snake turned to face me just as I fired three times at it. I missed the head, but I tore up enough of the rest of the snake to leave it writhing on the ground. I took out my stunner and zapped it as hard as I could twice. The snake went limp enough that I was able to put my gun near its head. The round and blast made the snake's head disappear and created a crater in the sandy road. Ellen was still kneeling and blinking hard, possibly from the blast residue of my shooting burning in her eyes as much as her shock at what had happened. Blast residue stings when it hits you and she'd

been staring in my direction. Gary was by Ellen's side in almost instantly, holding her up and talking to her softly. He gathered her stunner and her purse and helped her to the car, then opened the door and installed her in the passenger's seat. The guard was standing beside me, staring at what was left of the snake and the hole in the road and saying, “Jesus! Look at that! It's as big around as a beer can! And look at that hole! What the fuck are you shooting in that thing?" “Magnum hollowpoints,” I said, leaving him to his amazement. I went to try to quiet Bear, who was truly freaking out from the gunfire and close confinement. No good. I couldn't let him out so he'd just have to settle on his own. I opened my green bag and reloaded the .357, then picked up my bags and my Bear and walked to the car. Gary opened the back door for me as I approached. He stared at me briefly, then he turned back to attend Ellen, who was crying her guts out while Bear yowled his accompaniment to her distress. My renewed attempts to quiet him failed. His ears were probably ringing worse than any of ours. I realized something was missing and went back to look around the area for my coffee mug and give everybody time to quiet down. My mug had landed right-side up, but there was sand all over the top. “Hey, guard. You got coffee in that trailer?" I dumped out my mug and dangled it from a finger. “Yeah,” he said. “Go on in. I'll take care of things out here." I didn't ask what the hell he thought he could find to take care of. My first stop in the trailer was the bathroom, thinking to wash out my mug first, but I suddenly discovered that I needed to take a leak before anything else. I was sitting on the sofa with a fresh cup of coffee, listening to the ringing in my ears from the gunfire and leafing through the Sunday funnies when the door opened a few minutes later. All three of them trooped in and glanced at me as they entered. I went back to reading the funnies. Perhaps because they saw I wasn't interested in chatting, nobody attempted conversation. Ellen beelined for the bathroom before I got a good look at her. The guard seemed unsure what to do and finally opted to go sit at his desk. Gary just stood by the door for a few moments before speaking. “Thank you, Ed." “It was the thing to do, Gary. I was hoping the snake would just leave, but it didn't work out that way. How's Bear?" “Quieter now. I could bring him in here, if you'd like." “That might be a good idea. Letting him sit in the air conditioning and see us all getting back to normal would probably be good for him." “I'll be right back." Gary almost scampered out the door and I almost hollered, “Watch for snakes!", but I didn't think he'd see the humor of it. “Damn big snake,” said the guard. “Big around as a beer can." I nodded. “Probably lots of them around here." He nodded. “First one I seen, though. They must hunt at night."

'They must hunt at night'? No shit, genius. I suddenly didn't want to talk to this man or listen to him talk about snakes or anything else. I looked toward the bathroom door. “Ellen, how are you doing in there?" Her muffled voice returned, “I'll be out in a minute." Gary came in with Bear. I took the carrier and set it on the floor by the couch to see if it was still dry inside. To my surprise, it was. Gary sat down as I opened the door and pulled Bear out of the carrier and onto my lap. “You've held it this long, Bear. Don't have an accident now, okay?" He looked up at me and said, “Yahh." “Everything's all better now and we'll be going home soon. I'll say a few more words in this tone of voice and hold you for a bit and then we'll stuff your little butt back in the carrier and we'll go home, okay?" “Yahh." “Kewl Beenz, kid. Sit still and don't leak." I patted him a bit and scuffled his chin as Gary watched from the other end of the couch. Bear didn't like the smell of the gun or the smell of it on my hand, so I pulled the gun out of my belt and set it on the arm of the couch. I continued to pet him with my left hand and talk to him. When Ellen came out a few minutes later I put Bear back in his carrier and the gun back in my belt. Gary went to take his turn in the bathroom and I said I'd take Bear back to the car. Ellen said she'd go with me and Gary said he'd be along in a moment. The guard rose to go with us. I said, “Nah. Sit tight. We won't get lost." Ellen didn't speak on the way to the car and she didn't wait for me to get her door, so I put Bear on the back seat and got in. We sat there in silence for some time before Ellen turned in her seat to speak to me. “Thank you for protecting me, Ed. I just wish you could have avoided killing the snake. Was it really necessary? Couldn't you have used your stunner?" “Let's get something straight, Ellen. I didn't kill the snake. You did. I told you exactly what to do and you didn't do it. You fucked up totally. I used my gun because I have confidence in my abilities with it and it was no time to be trying strange new weapons I haven't mastered." “But..." “But nothing. Did I tell you to pull your stunner before you looked?" “Yes, but..." “Did you look first and fuck up your nerves?" She didn't answer. “You killed the snake, Ellen. If you'd zapped it I could have tossed it back into the brush and we'd have been on our way with an anecdote. I'm not good enough with a stunner yet and I know it. I am good enough with a gun, so I used it." My watch beeped when Ellen's did. I let her answer it.

Linda said, “Gary just told me what happened. Is everybody all right?" I said, “We are." Linda asked, “Ellen? You're okay?" “I'm fine, Linda." “You don't sound fine." I said, “That's because I've just chewed her ass for not following orders exactly as given, Linda. We'll get past it. Everybody will be fine by morning." “Ellen?" “He's right, Linda. I didn't handle the situation properly." “Well, don't either of you forget that new guys will screw up now and then." I said, “I'll post it on my fridge, Linda." “You do that, Ed. You can be damned difficult sometimes. Fearless Leader out." Ellen giggled. “Fearless Leader?" “Yeah. There used to be a cartoon show. One of the characters always referred to his boss as ‘Fearless Leader'. I tagged Linda with it a long time ago. Feel free to use it if you want. I don't think she'll mind, but if she does she'll let you know." “And you're the ‘Dragonfly'?" “Now and then. More then than now these days. It had to do with helicopters and what we called some of our other missions." “She said you used to be one of her Dragonfly Runners. That didn't make any sense because dragonflies don't run. They fly." “Linda didn't explain?" “No. She started crying and asked me to leave her for a while, so I did. That was before anyone told her we might be able to repair her spine. I think she was just remembering a lot of things and became depressed." I nodded. “She has a lot to remember from before her accident. She was probably missing her legs." Ellen didn't say anything for a moment, then, “If you treated her as you have me, her legs weren't all she was missing, Ed. We were talking about you." She didn't say anything else and neither did I. The awkward moment was broken by Gary's arrival. He tossed himself in and started the car. “What's the matter?” asked Ellen. “The guard is going to look for the snake's tail later. For a souvenir." I asked, “Are we in a hurry, or can we find it first and hide it?" After a quick look at each other we got out and started looking. Gary found it near where Ellen had been standing and threw it deep into the brush and we raced back to the car like a bunch of kids. The guard came to the door and looked out as if wondering why we were still there, which gave Ellen a case of the giggles. Gary waved to him and headed us back down the sandy road toward civilization and said, “Somebody

tell me why we did that." Ellen said, “I don't know, but it felt good. And there's something wrong with keeping animal parts as tokens, I think. It's disrespectful." I said, “To keep him from having something to lie about to his buddies." Chapter Fourteen Ellen's and my relationship was somewhat strained for a while. I recognized that she had a duty to the ship concerning Elkor, but it was several days before I defrosted enough about his lobotomy to respond to her beyond the basics of her mission and my role in assisting and protecting her, and it happened then only because Linda took a hand in things after Ellen called her for advice. That was a fairly maddening time for me. Ellen wore her jogging suit or less around the house as she had on the ship and tended to wear only slightly more conservative attire when we went to the grocery store or other places. The sight of her affected me intensely and fairly obviously and she was very well aware of it. Now and then we'd have to squeeze past each other in the hallway or the kitchen, and Ellen's way of things was to simply stand there and let me do all the squeezing to get past or around her. During one such incident of passing in the hallway, she grabbed my arm and said, “Let's talk about this, Ed. Let's have what we had before. I didn't do anything to Elkor that wasn't in the best interests of the ship and the mission." I looked her over from head to toe and almost gave in to her sincerity, but something held me back. Pride? Today it seems ridiculous, but at the time it seemed a point of honor, somehow, to resist her as Elkor had been unable to do. “I have to finish installing some things on my own computer, Ellen. We're working together well enough as things are, I think." Apparently I was wrong about that. Ellen called Linda that afternoon to request another protector. Linda called me and told me to have a long talk with Elkor before I made a bigger fool of myself. I told her that Elkor had told me that he couldn't discuss his programming with me. She told me again to talk to Elkor. Elkor still wouldn't discuss his programming, but he was back to addressing me as ‘Ed’ instead of ‘sir’ and asked if I would like a copy of his incomplete Bear research. When I said I would he downloaded it to my pad. As each of several sounds played from the pad's speaker Elkor made an effort to define their meanings. Bear immediately came running when he heard his own voice. He couldn't figure out what the hell was going on, but when Elkor talked to him and interspersed his words with Bear sounds, it seemed as if some level of real communication had been reached. Ellen had seen Bear running and had come to see what was going on in my computer room. She stood in the doorway, leaning on the jamb, as Elkor and I wrapped up the presentation and signed off. “Well?” she asked. “Did I lobotomize Elkor?" “It sure doesn't seem that way, does it? I'm sorry, Ellen. Why didn't you tell me more about what you'd done?" “How much of it would you have understood? It isn't the kind of programming you're familiar with at

all. Why couldn't you have just taken my word that I hadn't harmed him?" “His last words when we left made me think you'd torn out his ... self. You could have at least tried to explain." “You weren't in a mood to believe me then and he hadn't adjusted to the new matrixes yet. He was running on what you could call default parameters, Ed." I sighed and asked if it was too late to try again. Ellen made a show of giving the matter vast and deep thought, then said that since she'd erred so seriously with the snake we could consider ourselves even. The rest of that afternoon and evening was devoted to the revelry of reestablishing ourselves with each other. When we were so spent that neither of us could face much more pleasure that evening, Ellen called Linda to tell her that things were better between us. 'Better' was the word she used and she didn't go into any great detail. She simply thanked Linda for her assistance. Linda rather tersely said, “Just see if you can keep that boat on course. Bye." The next day we went to the gun range. Gary seemed not to have a problem with guns in general and learned to shoot as quickly as he'd learned pool. Ellen at first handled the guns as if they were coated in slime. Her aversion caused her to be unprepared when the .9mm pistol bucked, but a few snickers and a laugh from Gary stiffened her resolve to master her weapon. By noon they were both hitting the black with reliability using either handguns or rifles, so the instructor set up the pop-up range. I went through it first to both demonstrate and requalify to the instructor's satisfaction. Both Ellen and Gary had difficulty with the idea of shooting at images of people, and neither of them was able to fire at all when faced with the image of a hostage situation, even though there was plenty of targetable bad guy visible. The instructor tried reasoning with them, then I did, then we set them back in the range to try again. Gary's hand was shaking, but he managed to pull the trigger and put a round through the bad guy's exposed shoulder. “Good,” I said. Gary looked at me. “Gary, your bullet would have disabled the guy's knife arm and shaken him loose from his hostage. Others could have gotten to him or had a clear shot at him, and that's good enough for today." “But you shot him in the head..." “That's what we'd do, Gary. I used a head shot in this scenario and so did the instructor, but your shot would also accomplish the end of the situation." When Ellen's turn came, her hand wasn't shaking. She'd found a way out of killing the guy and quickly put one round almost in the same patched-over hole that Gary's bullet had made. For the rest of the afternoon it was like that. Faced with a necessity to kill the bad guy in the target or perhaps have the bad guy's gun used on them, they both faltered. While it spoke well of their regard for life it didn't quite get the job done. We took a break at a diner nearby. “Look,” I said, “This all assumes that you will have to use whatever's at hand to end a crisis. If that bad guy doesn't die, someone else—someone totally undeserving—very likely will. When we go back, I want you both to pot that nasty son of a bitch according to the script and get this whole mess over

with." Ellen said, “I'll try, Ed. It's just..." “No, ma'am. You will, damn it. If you have to make 'it's just a target' some kind of mantra in order to do it, you will shoot as necessary. You're full of no-kill conditioning and that's just fucking wonderful, but that philosophy won't always work on a world like this one. These scenarios are cuts of history, people. Shit like this has happened too often and has to be anticipated." Gary was stirring his tea and staring into the glass. I rapped on the table with my own spoon and his head came up. “Gary, you'll go first. You'll put a round in his forehead.” I tapped Ellen's forehead and added, “Right here. Dead center." Gary blanched and stared at me. I used that moment to continue. “We'll say that I'm already dead and that you have a chance at him. If you don't shoot, he's going to kill everybody in the room because he'll figure that even if they aren't aliens themselves, they're working for the aliens. Even the children will have to die, just in case they're aliens, too. He's a psycho, Gary. He thinks he's gonna go to some idiotic version of heaven for doing this and he won't stop unless you stop him. You." I looked at each of them. “If you can't do it, you aren't ready to try to live and work among Earth people after the news is out. Every paranoid and halfwit nutcase out there is going to zero in on aliens. Some will get through, eventually." When we returned to the range, each of them made the required shot. Both were shaking and had to sit for a while afterward to reorganize themselves. Once we were back at the house I let Linda know what had happened. She didn't seem at all surprised by any of it and didn't offer any explanation. Gary and Ellen had been issued cover ID's, of course. The matter of my helping Ellen to acquire a viable cover ID had been no more than a part of my pre-recruitment testing. Her name really was Ellen, sort of. It was E'lahyan. Gary's real name was G'haray. I met several of the Amarans and they all had an ‘h’ sound somewhere in their names. It seemed to have to do with family ties and lineage. Ellen's cover included fake employment as an insurance investigator, as did Gary's. It was sufficient to explain their income and our frequent absences for up to a week at a time. Her real job was to appear as necessary to try to explain technical stuff to politicians and others involved in the project. I was her escort and was issued a cover ID of my own for use at such events. Security concerning the project itself was as tight as I'd ever seen it, even in the Cold War days. Gary's ongoing role was that of our liaison with the ship and our emergency escape ride—as he was for a number of others in our region—and a sometimes-visitor to the house. He went with us to Orlando and some of the other meetings and generally found ways to be useful when he was ashore. When Sharon once asked him to help her unload supplies he wound up sometimes also helping her make ceramic and stoneware stuff, as well, and it was through those efforts that he developed an interest in creating his own designs. We put a few of them on our website and they sold instantly, so Gary put up his own website and let WiccaWorks handle the sales end of things. He went to a number of art shows and returned from one with a lady friend. The woman's name was Alanah and she was an Amaran located in Sarasota, Florida who had simply been trying to alleviate boredom by painting. Someone had entered one of her paintings in an art show

and she'd found herself in demand at other shows, like the one to benefit the St. Petersburg aquarium. Except for their watches, the Amarans had no special means of casually identifying themselves to each other. They weren't all blonde, so blending in wasn't a big problem. Gary had spotted Alanah's watch instantly as she had been talking to someone about a painting and had made a point of checking the time within her range of vision. Alanah had suddenly remembered something she needed to retrieve from her car and Gary had offered to walk with her for safety's sake. He didn't bring her to visit often, but from our few talks she seemed like a nice person to me. She had the usual Amaran characteristics of height and attractiveness and could have passed as a sister to Ellen. The Amarans had chosen the first factory and training site based on a number of factors ranging from accessibility and plate tectonics to political and social environment and they would not budge from their decision to place the site near Carrington, North Dakota. Their polite but very firm attitude was that Earth could move it once we owned it and could figure out how to do so on our own. United Nations members suggested dozens of plans for security and logistical support for the site, but at the end of six months of their wrangling over details the United States flatly stated that it would provide both the land and the security and the other nations would provide personnel. The major players agreed with many stipulations and the matter was settled enough to proceed. Over the next few months the negotiations and the factory project were made public as an almost-done deal. A few nations, notably France, had said that they would refuse to participate unless the Earth factory would be built on their soil. France had been excluded from further negotiations pending a change of heart, and once the matter became public, they found themselves facing revolution again. There were riots in major French cities for a solid week. The French government nearly toppled and many key people were replaced quickly so that the heads of state could blame someone else and apologize as necessary. A few of the excluded nations made threatening noises about trade restrictions and other retaliatory measures against some of the others, but when one middle-eastern nation threatened to use nuclear weapons in terrorist attacks it was literally engulfed and absorbed by several of its neighbors. A few lines changed on the global map and none of the threateners were heard from again. The public, of course, went moderately insane over the whole affair. Some treated the Amarans as if they were visiting rock stars and others seemed to believe they were invaders or worse, but most settled down after a while and simply accepted that Earth had a corporate future among the stars. There were a few failed assassination attempts and a few attempts that ended in death and/or injury, and, as expected, all of those attempts were based in various religious beliefs or forms of insanity. The two deaths were Earth cops who had been trying to disarm volatile situations. Only one Amaran was injured slightly in a bomb blast that went off too soon. One TV preacher got the idea of a “Mission to Amara” going well enough to rake in several millions of dollars in only a few weeks. Although that preacher had no idea how to deliver missionaries to Amara without the Amarans’ assistance and although the Amarans had flatly refused to have anything to do with him, he continued to collect money for the effort until the Amarans hired attorneys to stop him from financially victimizing people in their name. The idiot thought that he could ignore the judge's ruling to cease and desist because the word “religion” had been tacked onto the money-grubbing effort. He was wrong, and they arrested him, but he jumped bail and tried to move the money and himself to an island nation that had no extradition agreement with the United States.

I was pleased to be one of those who helped negotiate his return to the States one night. In other days and places we had called such doings ‘extractions’ and they'd amounted to clandestine entry, containment of the extractee, and an escape back into the West across a Communist border. This extraction lacked only the Communist border. We'd even been heading West from the island. At the Miami pier we joined a disembarking tourist group, provided the televangelist with a phony passport and some of his own luggage that had been retrieved from his massive estate in South Carolina, took some pictures of him walking with the tourist group, called the FBI to report that he was trying to re-enter the country under an assumed name, and held him until they arrived. The FBI later said that it had acted on a tip that had panned out, and that was the truth. We'd told them nothing about our intentions and our people had disappeared by the time they arrived at the pier. The televangelist went to prison and a very public effort was made to return as much of the money as possible to people who could prove their donations, but the bulk of the money remained unreturned after several months. I have no idea what happened to the money after that, but the amount of media scrutiny would have made those involved rather cautious about its disposition. After the Pope announced a campaign to “embrace and enfold” Amarans as potential converts, some of the more violent furor died down and a number of the Protestant religions, notably the Baptists, decided to do the same. The only problem was reaching the Amarans in order to try to convert them, but the evangelists did manage to locate a few. To my knowledge not one Amaran was converted to anything, but it gave most of the religious nuts a focus other than trying to ‘destroy the infidels'. Things were fine until one of the pious idiots referred to the Amarans as “spiritually ignorant, unclean heathens in desperate need of salvation” on a syndicated topical-news show with a wide audience. The term stuck in the pointy little minds of most all of the pious, self-righteous idiots able to secure air time and was repeated ad nauseam for weeks until the Amarans had had enough. The Amarans abruptly said they'd be putting their factory mission on hold until the religious drivel that was being used to polarize and milk the public stopped. The governments immediately stopped apologizing for the televised religious idiots and hustlers and took measures to end their manipulative rantings. The following Sunday the President of the United States preempted all religious broadcasts by every individual or organization known to have said even one derogatory thing about the Amarans or to have used any of the “unclean heathen"-type labels to describe them. In other words, the Prez preempted every damned one of them. It was shutdown time. He began with, “My fellow Americans, the Amarans will henceforth be given equal time for rebuttal and the exact same audiences which have been hearing religiously-based slander about them from biased and questionable sources..." There was a bit more, but the Prez eventually turned the broadcast over to an Amaran, who introduced himself and spoke for forty-five minutes. He explained that the Amarans’ mission was a business venture and that Amarans were quite happy with their own religions without saying anything about their religions. He also pointed out that philosophies and religions from less-developed worlds would appeal to Amarans about as well as Earth's more primitive cults appealed to our own investment bankers and Wall Streeters. It was all very rational and reasonable and filled the remainder of the hour, after which the show was

re-aired without interruption for the entire day on all the religious channels. The helmet-haired preachers in thousand-dollar suits and the other pious manipulators of peoples’ minds were told that such interruptions would occur again as often as necessary to end all deliberately manufactured controversy about the Amarans. It took everybody almost a year to finish constructing the facility with people from an international consortium created specifically for that purpose. As the bugs were ironed out between member nations the consortium's role was expanded into management of the project, as agreed upon by a majority of the co-signatories. I met a few new people along the way, but nothing much changed about my role in proceedings until Linda went through her surgery in August and Clark became my interim Control. Gary, Ellen, Alanah, and I met Clark at the ship the day before the operation commenced and spent the morning with Linda, then she was prepped and delivered to the doctors. We were allowed to watch the operation on the wall of the dining room. They used a field effect to place Linda in a limited stasis and began the sixteen-hour operation at four in the afternoon. When I had heard from Linda that it would take an estimated sixteen hours I wanted to meet the team of doctors involved, mostly to make myself feel better about the whole damned idea. That's a long time to be standing in one place doing surgery, and especially the sort of microsurgery that had been described. Linda had laughed softly and said there'd be only one doctor after the initial team opened her up and had a look around. She called Elkor to come to her room in his ‘doctor outfit'. What entered the room would have scared the pee out of a kid watching a horror movie. Elkor's ‘doctor outfit’ appeared to be an eight-armed, faceless, robot replica of the goddess Kali mounted on a pair of miniature tank treads. The arms folded or laid neatly down the sides of the machine's body when not in use, but in a striking demonstration of facility Elkor extended all of them at once and juggled jellybeans completely around his metal body before launching them all back into the jar at the same time from more than six feet away. Elkor said, “As you can see, I'm pretty good with my hands." The comment startled me. As some of the others laughed, I was peering at Elkor's ‘doctor outfit’ as if I might actually see something more about him. I hadn't anticipated meeting an Elkor with a sense of humor, and I looked at Ellen with a very 'what the hell?' sort of glance. She smiled slightly and shrugged and said, “I told you. I only introduced some containments to protect the primaries." “This is surgery, not juggling,” said Clark. Elkor seemed to think a moment, then asked us all to donate a hair from each of our heads. Once he had them, he said, “Watch." His implement-"hands” moved at phenomenal speed, braiding the hairs tightly together into one threeinch piece of work in less than three seconds. He then disconnected one of his viewing appendages and handed it to Clark. Clark looked through the mini-microscope and muttered, “Good-god-damn..." As the scope and braid were passed around, even the Amarans were astounded at the result. The hairs had been neatly, tightly braided and sealed at the ends. Elkor reattached his microscope appendage and handed the braid to Linda.

“I hope this will instil your strongest confidence in my abilities. Please take it as a token of all of our heartfelt wishes for your best recovery." It was the sort of gesture and gathering of words you just don't expect to hear from an eight-armed robot with surgical tools for hands. Linda wiped a tear away, as did some of the others of us as we agreed in a motley chorus that ended with Clark's, “Damn right! You're gonna be walking to work, lady!" Elkor then displayed on the wall a simulation of the operation, complete with depictions of the microsurgery that would re-link the nerve tissues and hopefully restore Linda's lower body functions. “I can reconnect everything,” said Elkor, “But I can not guarantee success. That will be up to Linda's ability to make use of the restored connections. She will also experience unusual sensations until her brain re-learns how to process the input from her lower extremities." “What kind of unusual?” I asked. Elkor said, “All kinds. Heat, cold, pain, numbness. Any tactile sensation a human can feel she is likely to feel at some point after the operation." He went on to say that after sixteen hours of forced sleep she was likely to wake up within a couple of hours of the operation's completion. That would put her wake-up at about eight in the morning. He suggested that we think about visiting Linda no earlier than ten. Chapter Fifteen Our concern could only bolster us for a limited time. As the fifth hour of the operation commenced on the wall, we had run out of conversation and nobody had the temerity to suggest changing the channel to something more interesting. I suggested to Ellen that we retire for the evening. Gary and Alanah decided to do the same and offered to show Clark to his room on their way. He seemed undecided for a moment, then agreed. I hadn't thought that either Ellen or I would have been particularly in the mood for much more than a night's rest after watching so much surgery, but as we wandered back to our room I found myself keeping an eye on her legs and noticing the fine fuzz on her cheek and savoring the scent of her. The curve of her shoulder and neck and the lines of her face and... Ellen stopped and said, “You can't take your eyes off me, can you? You're getting horny as hell, aren't you?" I shrugged and said, “Sorry if it seems inappropriate, but apparently I can't so much as see you and not start wanting you." She took my arm and started us moving again. “Good,” she said. “There's something about dire circumstances that makes a woman just as horny. I was wondering if we'd ever get out of the dining room." “Ha. The vastly superior alien intellect is as subject to biology as everybody else. You're probably feeling that primitive urge to reproduce in order to replenish the human herd." Ellen looked up at me and gave me a wry grin. “Nope. I've been horny all day. I woke up horny, but we were in a hurry to get everybody together." “Oh. Well, then, I suppose I stand corrected, Miz Alien Lady. Your vast intellect apparently gave in to your biology long before I had my morning coffee. What was it, ma'am? A wet dream?"

“That's exactly what started it and that remark is going to cost you, Earthie. You're all mine, now." “Would it help to plead for mercy?" “Not even a little. Now I'm hornier than ever." Ellen pressed the door pad and playfully shoved me into our room, then pulled our watches off and turned them off before dropping them on the nightstand. She stripped off her shirt and shorts as I got out of my own clothes. As she approached me in her glorious nakedness, she grinningly asked, “Any last words, Earthie? Want to write home or anything, just in case?" I stood straight and said, “Just do me the honor of sending me home on my shield so they'll know I did my best." Ellen giggled and grabbed me in an attempt to throw me on the bed. I turned it around and tried to throw her on the bed. For some moments we wrestled to see who was going to be the thrower and the throwee, then her grin turned into a sharp burst of laughter that she couldn't stop. I tossed her on the bed, naturally. You have to use the advantages you're given in such matters. Her words came between bouts of laughter. “That's ... cheating ... Ed!" “So make me work it off, ma'am." I was standing too close when I said it. Ellen's arm lashed out and her hand locked around my wrist and she used her feet to trip me as she pulled. I wound up flat on the bed next to her and her laughter got worse, if anything, as her hand wrapped around my upright dick. “I've got ... you now ... Earthie! No ... escape ... for you!" “I surrender, alien woman. You're too late, anyway. You may use me as you will while the others escape to freedom." Ellen really cracked up at that line. “Oh, don't even try to look noble about it, Earthie. You opened their cages and helped them escape so you'd have my gorgeous body all to yourself." “Drat. How did you know? Don't tell my mother, okay?" “I'll tell her if you don't make me happy, mister." “Ooo. No, no. She wouldn't like that. I'll cooperate, ma'am." Ellen cannot be called a passive woman. She put the head of the object of her interest in her mouth and swirled her tongue. That made it buck, which made her giggle. She took another swirling swipe with her tongue and giggled again. Taking it out of her mouth, she laughed and said, “You'll probably find me rather easy to please this evening." “Oh, good. I was getting worried until you said that." She grinned and slapped my leg and went back to work on her toy for a while, then took me out of her mouth again long enough to wordlessly maneuver me further onto the bed. Once I was where she wanted me, she straddled my chest and offered herself to me so that I could do for her what she was doing for me. I ran my hands over her lovely thighs and waited. She was taking me deep and rocking, and every

stroke of her tongue on the head was lowering her nearer to my own tongue. It was a game she played with herself to teasingly lower herself near enough for me to take a swipe at her magic button, then to settle where I could attend matters to her satisfaction. Ellen was already damp when my lips found hers and my tongue slashed across her clit. She gave a muffled screech and I felt her teeth drag briefly, then she settled into place so I could begin my search for her pleasures. My tongue slipped between her labia and took a long stroke of her clit and Ellen moaned. When I took her button between my lips and whipped it with my tongue her moan increased considerably for several seconds. During that time Ellen wasn't rocking, wasn't stroking me with her tongue. She'd said she liked feeling me bucking and throbbing in her mouth while I did that to her and that the sensations from both ends of her were too distracting to try to move. I didn't mind. Actually I didn't even really notice much of anything other than how she was reacting. What I was doing was winding her up tight and shooting for a couple of her explosions before she turned around and sat on my dick. When things happened in that order Ellen usually came quickly and more than once almost as soon as she had fully impaled herself on me. When her time came, Ellen had to take me out of her mouth to groan with the impact of it. Her face rested on my thigh as I searched for another one and found it. She settled into it and rode it like a wave and then her wave broke as she orgasmed again. I was about to start looking for another one when she began to slide down my legs and roll off me. Ellen turned around, kissed her way up my chest to my face, and kissed me hard as she settled herself onto me. When she hit bottom she came again in a softer way and held very still for a moment to let it work its magic and fade before posting a few times and then jamming herself down onto me to drive another orgasm into full bloom. This was the part I liked best. I liked the way she took control of the stick and knew how best to use it to her satisfaction. Watching her move to milk bits of pleasure out of herself gave me vast pleasure, and when she came it was a magical moment every time it happened. Ellen knew, too, that she could almost always call my own orgasm into being. Her eyes would open and her gaze would fix on mine and she would post until she was ready, then quietly order me to come with her. “Now,” she whispered. “Any moment very soon will do, Ed. Come for me." I came for her. Ellen slammed herself up and down on my shaft a few times to encourage it, then remained fully impaled as I bucked and squirted into her. My orgasm would somehow trigger another one for her. She said she couldn't explain it, so I didn't press her about it, but she also said that no feeling ever made her happier than that sensation of being filled and fulfilled. Ellen kissed me and rolled off me after we'd quieted a bit. When her arm moved, I thought she was about to say something, but when I looked over the arm she was already asleep. **** I was dreaming about Ellen. She was riding me to completion and all I wanted in the whole world at that moment was to see her reach it, but there was someone at the door ... Wait ... Not a dream. Someone was practically leaning on the door chime. I roused enough to say, “Yes?" Alanah walked into the room and stopped by the table. She was dressed in jogging shorts and a t-shirt as Ellen usually wore on ship and seemed vastly amused about something. I realized that Ellen had

rolled herself up in the sheet and that a part of me was standing at attention. The sight of Alanah's bare legs and moderately heavy chest wasn't helping matters. She grinned and said, “It's nice of you to offer, Ed, but I only came by to wake you up, not get you up." “You damn sure did that, too. Must be that outfit. Just a minute, Alanah." I was trying to gather enough sheet off Ellen to cover myself when she roused and rolled over to see what was going on. She saw my dick and reached for it and her hand closed around it about the same time she noticed Alanah by the table. “Oh, hi, Alanah. Look what I found.” She snickered and glanced at me. Alanah smiled and said, “He was already kind enough to show it to me. It's almost eight, Ellen.” She snickered and said, “But Ed's almost ten..." “We'll be along in a bit.” Ellen looked at me. “Or maybe a little longer." Alanah shook her head with a grin and walked out. “Ellen,” I said, “Tell her that 'yes' doesn't necessarily mean 'come in'." “Sure, I'll do that, Ed. Do we have a few minutes or do I have to let you go?" “We have a few minutes. I'll gladly suffer gracefully for you, ma'am." Ellen straddled me and picked up where my dream had left off. Elkor met us in the dining room during breakfast. He was still in his ‘doctor outfit', but a comb, a hairbrush, and a mirror had replaced some of the surgical devices. He briefed us on what to expect of Linda. “Parts of her will be immobilized by fields. She seems to be in good spirits, but please be ready to leave the room if she shows any signs of distress or discomfort. Your visit will last no longer than her comfortable vital signs, but as long as she wants company and can handle it I see no reason to deny access." Clark asked where the human doctors were and Elkor told him they were still sleeping after the long stint in surgery. Apparently they had stayed to oversee matters until the operation had been finished. Just before we were ready to leave one of those doctors entered the dining room. He looked pretty bleary, but he greeted us and generally echoed Elkor's summations. We thanked him and trooped down the hall to see Linda. Linda was lying flat under a sheet, suspended in the air about three inches above the bed. I looked at Elkor and he said that the bed wasn't really necessary, but that people generally seemed to feel more secure with something tangible underneath them. He said it flatly—probably one could say 'with a straight face', if he'd had one -and perhaps that contributed to what made everybody laugh or chuckle. Elkor spread four of his ‘arms’ and asked, “What did I say?", which elicited another round of chuckles and giggles. “Yeah, Elkor,” said Clark. “People can be like that." Linda said, “Hi, everybody. I'm still alive." I walked over and took her hand. “You're looking pretty good, really. I'm surprised. I expected tubes and wires and all that."

“Oh, I have a tube,” she said. “It's under the sheet and it leads to a bedpan or something. Very convenient. Just like the astronauts used to use." Clark said, “The astronauts never said even one good word about catheters, Linda. If you do, you're just trying to make us feel better. Speaking of feeling, how are you feeling? Are you feeling your toes yet?" Linda smiled as if she had a secret, then blurted, “I feel heat, Clark. In my feet and my legs. I can feel heat." I looked at Elkor. The doctor robot seemed to be looking back at me, but it was hard to tell for certain. He may have been seeing everybody and everything at the same time with those lenses. Elkor moved to Linda's feet and lifted the sheet. Using the backside of one of his mandibular graspers, he drew a line on the sole of Linda's foot. He barely used enough pressure to dent the skin, but she shrieked as if he'd cut her deeply and was left gasping from the experience. Clark had instantly jumped to grab Elkor's “hand". He couldn't budge it. Elkor wrapped two of his arms around Clark, retracted the mandibles, and rolled his robot self backward a few feet. I stepped between them and Linda and tried to get Clark's attention, then heard Linda crying behind me. So did Clark. He was now struggling to get away from Elkor and trying to turn around at the same time. Elkor let him go and he almost fell down in his haste to get to Linda's side. “No sweat, Elkor,” I said. “Just stay put a minute." I tapped Clark on the shoulder. When he whipped around and saw it was me, he almost turned back to Linda, but I grabbed his face in both hands and said, “Just calm the fuck down, Clark. He tickled her. That's all. Nothing more. She probably felt it as a burn." I didn't let go until Clark relaxed somewhat and tried to nod that he understood me. “Okay,” said Clark, “Let me go, Ed." “If you get silly again I'll deck you, okay?" He nodded. “Okay. Sorry. Now let me go." I did so and Clark turned back to Linda, searching her face. She was crying, but she was smiling hugely at the same time. Clark twisted himself to see her feet, probably looking for blood, and then looked up at Elkor, who had wisely situated himself a few feet away. Elkor asked, “Why would I inflict damage on this woman, Mr. Clark? I just spent sixteen hours trying to restore her." Clark blinked at him and seemed to gather himself a bit more. “I'm sorry,” he said. “She screamed and I just reacted. I'm sorry." Elkor said, “I understand, Mr. Clark. No apologies are necessary." Clark looked back at Linda for a moment. She was busy marveling at her feet and smiling and crying. He said, “Yes, Elkor, apologies are necessary. They'll make me feel better. Even if you don't need them, I do. I wish you had a hand to shake." Elkor said, “Maybe one of these will do, Mr. Clark,” and extended all eight arms at once in a gesture that made Clark recoil against Linda's feet, which caused her to scream again. Clark whipped around to see if he'd hurt her (he hadn't, of course), then backed away from her feet and whipped back around to face Elkor. “Sorry,” said Elkor, putting his arms down. “I didn't mean to startle you again. Maybe we should forget

about the handshake for now." Everybody was grinning like idiots as Clark glanced around at us. He stepped boldly forward and said, “No, Elkor. I'll take this one." He reached to grab one of the dangling arms and tried to find a way to turn the gesture into a handshake. Failing at that, he simply embraced the robot and said, “Thank you. Thank you so much for helping her, Elkor." I turned to Linda and said, “I think you have an admirer, ma'am. Did you know he felt that strongly about you?" Linda was flabbergasted at Clark's behavior. “No,” she said. “No, I didn't." Clark let go of Elkor, stepped over to me, and said, “I'd appreciate it if you'd mind your own business, Ed. I really would." “This is my business. Linda's one of my oldest friends. No offense, Linda." “None taken. That's what comes of knowing someone too long. They turn into old friends. Clark, relax. He's with me and so are you, so let's take it easy. One of you try blowing on my feet. Maybe that won't register as pain." I said, “I'd rather Clark be the one to do that." Linda gave me an odd look and asked, “And why is that?" “Because I'm above making blowjob jokes and he isn't, so let him be the one to huff and puff on your toes, ma'am." That got some snickers and giggles. Clark gave me an 'oh, grow up' look and leaned to blow on Linda's feet. Linda made a little “Haahhh!” sound of startlement—and probably anticipated pain—and took her time about unclenching afterward. Clark straightened up and faced Elkor. “I know this is going to sound stupid, Elkor, but if there's ever anything I can do for you, you have to let me know immediately." No, it didn't sound stupid. It sounded grateful as hell, but not stupid. “I'll do that, Mr. Clark." “Tony, Elkor. My first name is Tony." “And mine is Elkor, Tony. I don't have a last name." Ellen asked, “Do you want one, Elkor?" Elkor said nothing for a moment, then, “I don't think I need one at present. May I take one later if I change my mind?" Ellen looked at me as she asked, “Can you change your mind, Elkor?" “As long as it doesn't affect my primary programming, yes." Chapter Sixteen Everyone seriously underestimated Linda's recuperative abilities.

The matter of sensory overloading was fairly quickly conquered by adjustment, just as it is with newborns. The brain learns to interpret signals from parts of the body based on continuous reception of signals. If the signal frequency increases sharply, you feel pain. If it decreases sharply you feel numbness. Different sensors in different areas of the skin and body report different conditions. Heat sensors tap out their signals just as pain sensors do, but the signals go to slightly different receptors in the brain for interpretation. Linda's brain already knew what to do with input from different types of sensors because the undamaged upper portion of her body had never stopped sending the various types of signals. Her feet remained extremely ticklish, but she soon was able to differentiate and categorize incoming sensations properly. Linda also complained of having to learn to walk all over again, but that wasn't completely true. She remembered how. Her mind remembered how every time she'd dreamed of having her legs again and of being able to walk or run. When the time was judged right for the effort, she was gently helped to try to stand, and while the first efforts were disappointing in comparison to her dreams, she was soon able to stand with only a little assistance. Not long after that she was able to walk by herself again, if perhaps a bit shakily. We threw her a small party that afternoon in honor of the occasion. The next time I saw Linda she was on a treadmill in her office. She'd taken to doing whatever work was possible while marching along as if on a never-ending hike, including conducting interviews and accepting reports. In this instance Ellen and I were simply visiting Linda and Elkor. We had time to spare from Ellen's scheduled meetings and nobody needed the flitter, so Gary dropped us off at the ship and said he would return for us later in the day. Linda had said she had something to show us and had asked us to visit. She kept us on hold as she completed a mile of walking, then told us to come with her and led off at a decent pace for someone who hadn't walked for seven years. At first I thought she was taking us back to the shuttle bay for some reason, but she walked a bit further down the hallway and halted by another door. With a fatuous grin she slapped the door panel and the door slid back to reveal another bay, one with a much smaller flitter within it. “The same basic design, but only about half the payload,” said Linda. “Six seats and a bit of deck space for cargo. Seats fold flat. Same top speed. Same safety and other features. The only real differences are the size and cost." As we walked around the flitter Ellen asked where it had come from, since no such designs were part of the company package for Earth. Linda said, “Elkor came up with the design because of Ed's complaint that regular flitters are like trucks. He studied the Earth auto markets, realized the biggest market here was for smaller vehicles, and put three of these together. He's sent the other two prototypes to the factory and copies of the design to all concerned for further review." Ellen said, “But we already have smaller flitters available from a number of sources. Elkor knows that." “These are for Earth-sale only. They won't be exported immediately, if at all. The idea is to give the general populace more reason to support the factory effort. The training factory is producing almost four hundred flitters a day, but only about ten percent of them remain on Earth. The asteroid facility will produce five times that, but almost all of them will be exported, too."

Linda leaned against the front of the flitter and patted it. “Elkor is scaling down factory fittings to suit a production line for these. Most people here have only ever seen flitters on TV, but tax money is still being spent on the project. The whole deal seems like fantasy or seems too remote to be meaningful to a lot of Earth's people, just like our old space program. Giving them a chance to own a version of what they're exporting is a way to keep them interested and involved. It may divert a trickle of potential production, but it will also divert people from criticizing too harshly while we're building this business and help pay for further training without using tax money." I said, “No riots, no carping or foot-dragging, and there's a profit potential that will augment the tax money. Okay, all good. But even a cut-down version of this gadget will cost as much as a moderately fancy house. Have the big three automakers gotten wind of this thing yet?" “They're already on board. Each will make them in redesigned factories all over the world. They balked at first, but our beloved Prez already had it in the bag with a pack of new environmental regulations and the blackmail to make them stick that will effectively kill production of any other kind of cars. All the nations involved in the factory project signed on with him, so the old ways and days are over. There will be no more new cars made within three years. Just flitters." “How did he get that past the oil companies?" “I don't know exactly, but it has to do with recharging stations. These flitters won't have long-term power units. They'll have to be recharged every hundred hours or so, as I understand things. Only Elkor's three demonstrators have the usual engines and his blueprints call for the other type of engine." Linda started for the bay door. We turned to follow her, but she waved us back. “No. Stay and play with it, Ed. Elkor said that this one was made for you. I still have to get an Amaran honcho to okay this freebie, but once the paperwork is done you can try to find a way to register it with the State of Florida and get them to issue it some kind of a title. Have fun, chillun." With that she slapped the door panel and walked out of the bay. I walked up to the flitter and ran my hands over it. “Hey, Elkor,” I said. From somewhere in the bay's ceiling came, “Yes, Ed." “I just wanted to say thanks, man. This is cooler than penguin shit." There was a moment's hesitation in his response. “Is that good?" “Better than good, Elkor. The best. Thanks again." “I think I've found a reference to your expression, Ed. Was it part of a marching song when you were in the military?" “It was. It may even still be, but I haven't been back to check lately." “Did the song also contain the lines; 'We're cooler than the frost on a champagne glass; cooler than the hair on a polar bear's ass'?" “You got it, Elkor. That's the one. Could I ask another favor of you?" “Certainly, Ed." “Would you make me some kind of receipt for this flitter that calls it an automobile? There's nothing in that word that seems to require wheels, is there?"

“I can do that, Ed. The formal definition of the word requires no wheels." “Thanks again, Elkor. Let me know if I can do you a favor sometime." “I have something in mind, Ed. I want to go ashore with you interactively. I'm working on a suitable method of doing so." “Just let me know what you come up with and we'll try to do it." “Thank you, Ed." Ellen said, “He'll come up with some kind of robotic device. I don't know what he means by 'interactive', though." “I guess we'll find out. Hope it isn't too extreme. I don't hang out in strip joints. Wanna check out my new ride, lady?" Ellen grinned and said, “Not as a passenger." “Sorry lady, but I'm driving it first. You can drive it back, though." As we seated ourselves in the flitter, Ellen asked, “Where are we going?" “Nowhere in particular yet. Not back to the house, certainly. I'm going to have to give some thought to where to keep this fine new toy. It can't show up in my driveway until they're available to the public." “Keep it here. Elkor can send it to you when you want to use it. You can meet it at the trailer in the woods." “Guess so,” I said, maneuvering the egg to back us out of the bay. “Nothing else comes to mind, anyway. Flitter computer, please display a map of the Gulf of Mexico and surrounding states and countries. Also, I will henceforth address you as ... lemme see ... How do you like the name 'Stephanie'?" A voice like Elkor's said, “I have no preference of names, sir." I headed the flitter in the general direction of Texas at three hundred miles per hour and one thousand feet altitude. “Well, then, computer, your name is now Stephanie. Now I'd like to have you do something about your voice. It doesn't sound like a Stephanie voice. Standby for more on that as it comes to me." Ellen laughed and said, “You aren't going to use my voice? I'm hurt." “Sorry, but no. Yours is too familiar and I really prefer to hear your voice when I'm near enough to touch you, ma'am. My flitter's voice will be one that will cut through whatever I'm thinking or doing to let me know if there's a problem." “Not shrill, I hope?" “Nope. There's an actress who could recite the phone book and hold my attention. There used to be a singer who could do that, too, even when she sang about muskrats. I'm trying to decide which to use." Ellen laughed again and said, “She sang about muskrats? You do have eclectic taste in music, Ed." I sat up huffily and said, “I didn't say it was my favorite of her works, but I'll have you know that song was top of the charts for a while. I've kind of settled on the other voice for now, though. Stephanie?" “Yes, sir." “Get with Elkor for samples of Jessica Rabbit's voice. She was a character in a movie a few years back. If you need more data, look up the actress and pull it from her other movies. You are going to sound

like her. Let me know when you're ready to use that voice." “Yes, sir." “Abbreviations of your name will be 'Stephie' and 'Steph', and you will call me 'Ed', not 'sir', okay?" The voice that answered me was still Elkor's. “Yes, Ed." Ellen was cracking up. “I've seen that movie! Jessica Rabbit? You're going to make your flitter computer sound like Jessica Rabbit?" “Yup. And sometime before I try to register Stephanie, what little there is of her that isn't fieldgenerated canopy will be painted a deep, emerald-like, metal-flake green. I don't buy Gary's comment on how long paint would last on a flitter. The fields deflect air and grit around the flitter." Ellen looked surprised. “They do, don't they? I wonder why he said that?" “Brain fart,” I said. “Everybody has one now and then. Could be he's never seen one painted and the first ones didn't have field-shaping. Could be he was reciting somebody else's manufacturing dogma. Could be they just don't want to add the extra step and cost of painting them." Ellen nodded. “I'll have to ask him about that. Why are we going so slowly?" I gave her a grin. “We're tourists. Tourists are supposed to drive slowly. If we had turn signals I could put the left one on and hog the fast lane, too. Then we'd be able to fake being retired tourists." Ellen gave me one of those 'oh, please' looks and asked, “Why, really?" “I'm just messing around, talking to you and Stephanie. How fast do we have to go for that? Are you in a hurry, lady?" It was getting to her already. Sometimes the quickest way to learn how to do something well was to have someone else show you, but if you really want an extreme demonstration of capabilities, make that somebody slightly impatient. I put the egg on the console. The flitter slowed to nothing and dropped to twenty feet from the surface of the water. I got up as I turned to Ellen and asked, “Would you like to show off a bit, ma'am?" She grinned at me as she took the pilot's seat and picked up the egg. “Show off? Me?" “Well, I suppose I could rephrase that..." “No need. It was accurate enough." With that, the flitter leaped almost straight up. At what must have been two miles or so of altitude she tilted the egg for forward flight and we were almost instantly flashing past one thousand miles per hour, according to the console. Ellen was grinning. “Same engine, less weight, greater acceleration.” She turned to me and said, “I need one of these, too." She took us through a series of maneuvers that would have splattered us around the cabin if it hadn't been for the inertia-nullifying fields that held us in our seats. At well above Mach 2 she whipped the flitter around and stopped it in midair in less than two seconds, then launched us back the way we'd come. A turn wasn't a gradual bank, as with an aircraft. If you egged the flitter hard left or right, the turn was virtually instantaneous. I found that to be somewhat disconcerting, but decided that I could get used to it eventually.

Ellen again halted the flitter. The console display said we were at three thousand feet and zero speed. Ellen looked over the side of the craft for some seconds before straightening up in her seat and looking at me, then she smiled and faced forward again. She pointed our nose at the water below and calmly said, “Computer, display the terrain below the surface and take us to minus fifty feet." I figured she was actually going to level us off at wave-height or pull us into another fancy maneuver and made every effort to appear unruffled as the water rose to meet us at about a hundred miles per hour. “The flitter won't let us go below three thousand feet,” said Ellen, pointing at the console, “I already checked the specifications on the console screen. That's what it considers maximum safe depth." I muttered a quick, “Yeah, fine,” through clenched teeth before her words actually sank in, then glanced sharply across at her to see if she was serious. She grinningly nodded. We didn't splash or—as I half-expected—crash into the water. It seemed to part before us into a funnel shaped depression well before the body of the flitter reached sea level and I realized the exterior field had shaped itself for entry. When the flitter had leveled itself Ellen twitched the egg to head us back toward the ship, which was displayed on the screen's proximity monitor. I looked out through the canopy and saw nothing but the water, dimly lit by the faint sunlight from the surface. I said, “Elkor, you got a copy?" “A copy of what, Ed?" “Never mind that for now. Monitor radio traffic to pick up the jargon. Did you happen to design an operator's manual for this flitter, too?" “Of course. You can view it on the flitter's console or on your PDA. Is there something wrong, Ed?" “Oh, no. Not really. It's just that nobody mentioned that these things could double as submarines and Ellen just nose-dived us into the water." “You sound disconcerted, Ed." “I'm getting over it. Okay, Elkor. Thanks for the info." Ellen thought my reaction was hilarious. “You could have told me before you aimed us at the water, ma'am." “I knew there was something I forgot to do." “I can forget things, too, you know. I've already got something in mind to forget, ma'am. Just to even the score a bit, you know." Ellen laughed and said, “I can hardly wait, sir. Computer, hold this course at minus fifty feet, speed thirty mph." “Thirty?” I asked, “Weren't you the one who was fidgeting because we were going too slow at three hundred?" Ellen stood up and pulled her t-shirt off. “Thirty gives us time. I thought I might try to make up for startling you."

I started undressing and said, “Hah. Tell it like it is, lady. You just worked yourself up playing with the flitter and now you want to use me to cap it off." Ellen grinned, tossed her shorts at my face and said, “That's right. Hurry up." Once I was as naked as she was Ellen pushed me into the pilot's seat and straddled me, then tilted the seat back about halfway. She positioned me and then kissed me as she pretty much dropped herself onto my dick, then sat upright with a grin. “Are you feeling better yet, sir?" “Oh, much better, ma'am. I think this will probably cure my anxieties." Ellen slowly posted on me a bit and smiled as she said, “I thought it might." She used me to find her special inner spot and worked it until the dampness within her became a small flood. Her soft groaning of release seemed to have a musical quality, as always, and she abruptly slammed herself all the way onto me and managed to jar another one loose. Ellen rested a moment as her breathing quieted, kissed me firmly, then sat back upright to begin the process again. I marveled at the look of her as she rode me and the feel of her solid body on mine and under my hands and the scent of her lust. She was a picture of controlled abandon as she took her lower lip between her teeth and moved herself to work me against her inner spot again, then her mouth flew open and she drove herself downward on me as before with a soft, breathy shriek. Ellen let herself fall forward to embrace me and quickly whispered, "Now, now, now! It's time, Ed! Now! Now, now, now!" I put my hands on her hips to guide her through the few more strokes I needed to meet her and kissed her deeply as I let myself surge into her. Ellen's embrace became almost painfully tight as she went rigid from head to toe and groaned into our kiss. When my dick stopped bucking she wriggled a bit to encourage a few more throbbings from me and she got them. Chapter Seventeen It was lovely to have Ellen drowsily plastered against me in the seat, but at some point I could no longer feel my legs very well and I had to ask her to move enough to allow circulation. “It's not down yet,” she mumbled. “I get to keep it until it's down." “Yes, miLady, absolutely. But could you maybe raise up a bit? Just a little?" “No. It's mine. All of it." I was about to say more to bolster my plea for blood flow, but she pushed upright and said, “Oh, all right. Be that way,” and lifted herself an inch or so. The sharp tingling in my legs told me that inch was going to save them. “Remember, Miz Alien Lady, you don't want to damage me until you've soaked all you can out of me, right?" She smiled sweetly and said, “Poor thing, I just got carried away. You get to live another day, Earthie. Unless I get horny again, that is." “Of course. You know I'll give my all for my planet, ma'am."

Ellen had been fascinated and vastly amused by some of the movies and books Earth had produced about possible first contacts, but her favorites—the ones at which she laughed the hardest and of which there was no shortage—seemed to be the ones in which some evil alien captured Earth people for nefarious purposes. One movie in particular had practically incapacitated Ellen with laughter on the couch one night. It was a low-budget porn flick she'd found in which an alien woman—from a world on which men had all died in some vast disaster—had gone on a sexual rampage when she'd discovered men on Earth, a planet they'd tagged for conquering and subjugating. That movie became the source of the 'I've got you now, Earthie' and 'You'll live to serve my needs and love it' lines that Ellen gigglingly used on me. The movie's alien woman had faked her crushing defeat in combat against Earth forces and her subsequent gory death in a live broadcast to her sisters with the help of half a dozen young studs in a Hollywood porn studio. They'd then turned her spaceship into a prop for future porn films in which she'd be the star. The movie's closing scene had her lying on a bed in her ship surrounded by naked, ready men, reciting some of the corniest 'Today, Hollywood; Tomorrow the world' dialogue any hack scriptwriter had ever produced. A low-toned, sultry, sexy voice interrupted us by saying, “As you requested earlier, Ed, I believe I have managed to acquire the essence of the voice of Jessica Rabbit. Do you agree?" I said, “Uhm ... Jeez ... Wow ... Well done, Stephanie. Very well done. Maybe you could adjust it to a more conversational tone, though? You're not supposed to be trying to seduce me." “Is this better, Ed?" “Yeah, that's fine. It'll definitely still get my attention. Good work, Steph." The voice dropped back to its previous low tone and breathed, “Thank you, Ed. Will there be anything else I can do for you?" Ellen blinked at me, then began laughing and couldn't stop. She was on her back on the floor, holding herself and rolling slightly from side to side. Her feet kicked and pummeled the floor as she guffawed. I looked at the console—since there wasn't anything else that seemed to personify the computer's presence—and said, “No, Steph. Not at the moment." When I turned to look down at Ellen she shrieked with laughter and seemed unable to recover herself from her delight for some time. Eventually Ellen sat up and said, “M-my sh-shirt, Ed. Hand me my shirt." I did so and she used it to wipe her eyes, then she put it on. It only covered her as far as her hips and accentuated the display of her legs and butt wonderfully as she stretched to reach for her shorts and panties. Ellen glanced up, saw me gazing at her legs, and smiled. “Like I said, 'I've got you now, Earthie'." “I'm sure everyone back home will completely understand why I surrendered to you, Miz Alien Lady, and fuck ’em if they don't." I watched her pull first her panties, then her shorts on over those fine legs.

“Do you care if you're dressed when we get back to the ship, Ed? You have about three minutes to decide." I speculatively asked, “How do you think Linda would react to that? No, forget that. I don't want to know badly enough to find out." It was just as well that I didn't want to find out. We could see that Gary was waiting for us in the landing bay to give us a ride home. When I stood up I discovered the damp stain on the pilot's seat and realized that the interior of the flitter must have reeked of sex. Gary might want to come aboard, and however well he seemed to have taken the idea of Ellen's and my affair, I really didn't want him to get a noseful of our underwater activities. “Stephanie, can you change the air in here? Quickly? Before we get into the landing bay? If you can, just do it, please." The conversational version of her voice said, “Yes, Ed. I'm doing it now." I'd forgotten we were a mile and a half in the air and realized it too late, but apparently Stephanie was a step ahead of me. My ears popped only slightly as slightly cooler fresh air whipped around us briefly. Ellen looked at me and giggled as I said, “Do it again once, Steph." The air whipped around us again just as the nose of the flitter entered the ship's atmospheric field. Ellen giggled again. “You know he knows, Ed." “There's a difference between knowing something is going on and having it stuffed up your nose, Ellen. You watch Gary closely and you'll see what I mean. Smells conjure images, and damned few brothers really want that sort of image of a sister knocking around in their heads." Sure enough, Gary's smiling demeanor changed dramatically as he got a whiff of what little of the event was left in the cabin. He looked first at Ellen, then at me, and then he saw the stained pilot's seat behind me. I won't say he actually glowered at Ellen or me, but his countenance froze and he stood very stiffly, formally, as he said, “Linda would like to see you both." Having said that, he simply turned and slapped the door panel to exit the bay without another word to either of us. I sat wearily down in the pilot's seat and said, “See?" Ellen was stunned. “But ... He's known for months, Ed! We talked about it; how it might affect everything and ourselves and you." She turned to face me and keened, “He knew, damn it! He knew!" I looked up and could only think to say, “There's a difference, Ellen." She looked blankly at me for a moment, then her expression became enraged. Her voice began in a very low tone and rose in pitch until it hurt my ears. “Don't tell me it's different, Ed. He has no right! No right! I'd never dream of judging him this way..! He-has-no-right!" Ellen looked around in aggravated confusion for a moment, then looked as if she intended to follow Gary. I stood and stepped in her path. “It isn't exactly judgment, Ellen. Count to a thousand and hope he's doing the same. Don't go at him

like this. It won't help. I know. I've been here before." Her rage seemed to focus on me as she succinctly said, “Out-of-my-way, Ed. He-has-no-right!" “It isn't a matter of having a right. It's a matter of having a sister, and why the hell are you so upset...?" I wasn't prepared and I freely admit it. One moment Ellen was glaring at me and the next I was lying on the floor. I heard my stunner rattle to a halt somewhere on the bay floor. It was a toss, not a strike, but the power behind it slammed me against the wall and to the floor at the far end of the bay. It also left me in agony for a moment and I had to check to see if my left arm and shoulder still worked. Something in my shoulder was rattling when I tried to move it and Ellen was out the bay door before I could even get to my feet. I reached to tap the comm button on my watch, but my watch was missing. Only some scrapes where it had been dragged off my arm remained, and realizing the scrapes were there made them burn like hell, of course. Ellen had slapped the door panel and was gone by the time I got to the door. I was about to slap the panel, too, when I realized the goddamned door wouldn't open again that day. The panel had collapsed into the wall in a mangled mess. “Elkor! Ellen's going after Gary and she is max-pissed! She put me on the floor, almost removed my arm, and smashed the door panel. Warn Gary. Can you stop her or at least slow her down?" “I'm aware of events, Ed. I can delay her once with fields, but she will override me by voice command. Correction. She has done so. I can't stop her." “If she's like this when she finds him ... Can you stun her? Can you tell Gary to stun her if he has to?" There was no answer. “Elkor?" Aw, shit! The tin man's down and I'm locked in here and Ellen's gone psycho. “Stephanie! Can you open bays from the outside?" “In an emergency, I am programmed..." “Yes or no, lady! Quick answers!" “Yes, Ed." I jumped aboard the flitter and said, “Do it, then. Find Gary. Take me into the bay nearest him and ... And I'll figure out what the hell to do when we get there." Stephanie began the usual slow backup out of the bay. “Steph, we don't have time for this. I want to be in the other bay as quickly as you can possibly get us there in one piece. Do it now." “Please sit down first, Ed. I cannot exceed this speed..." I slammed my butt into the pilot's seat and said, “I'm sitting! GO!" The field wrapped around me as we moved. I won't try to guess how few tenths of a second were involved, but flashing out of one bay and nosing into another at that speed was plain fucking scary. I sat absolutely still in a state of shock for a couple of seconds, then managed to get out of my seat as the canopy disappeared. “Jesus, Steph!"

“Is something wrong, Ed?" “Ah ... Hah ... Well ... No, baby. We're fine, I think. Where's Gary?" “In his work room, Ed. I thought you might also like to know Ellen's current..." “Yes! Where's Ellen?" “Three doors away from here, coming this direction." “Steph, can you extend your field through the doorway and across the hall?" “Yes, Ed." “Do it when I get into the hallway. No voice commands but mine, okay?" “Yes, Ed." “I mean it, Steph. You're my flitter. Nobody else orders you, you got that?" “Yes, Ed." “Thank you. Oh, and tell Gary to get his butt out here. This is his problem, too." I ran out of the bay and stopped in the middle of the hallway. “Do it now, Steph. All the way to the other wall." She must have filled the doorway with that field as she pushed it across the hall. I was shoved backwards a couple of feet and couldn't so much as push a hand into that invisible wall. Ellen was about fifty feet away and approaching at a quick march. Her demeanor and expression hadn't changed. Gary was in deep shit. “Ellen,” I said, “Stop and talk to me, will you?" She didn't answer and kept marching straight for me. Her hair was flowing behind her and she looked like some kind of angry goddess. “Ellen..." “How did you get here, Ed?" “Ellen, stop. There's a field in front of you." “I turned Elkor off. There's no damned field." “There is, Ellen. I swear..." She hit the field at a marching pace and rebounded like a rag doll to land on her ass. There was a look of shock on her face. “Elkor!” she screamed. “Turn off this field! Now!" “Elkor didn't do it. I did." Ellen ignored me and screamed, “Elkor!" “I'm telling you I did it, Ellen." When there was no response from Elkor she got up and walked to the field. While I couldn't even casually push my hand into it much, she was making a helluva dent in the other side of it. The shimmering effect outlined the forward half of her body as she strained to force herself through it, but it shoved her back.

Ellen screamed her frustration and rage and tried again, but the field held as before. She stood glaring at me for some moments, then screamed and threw herself against the field like a football player trying to break through a line. As the field threw her back, Gary stepped out of a doorway behind Ellen and aimed his stunner at her. Ellen stiffened as the jolt hit her, but she didn't go down. The second jolt put her on her knees, but her rage seemed to keep her upright. The third jolt closed her eyes and laid her out. “Stephanie,” I said, “Drop the field, please." I couldn't tell if she had or not until I reached into the area where it had been and took another tentative step forward. Gary had walked over to Ellen and stood looking down at her. I joined him there. Gary said, “Wait here. I have to override her code to turn Elkor on." I nodded and he walked toward a doorway. “Hey, Gary." He turned and said, “Yes?" “Now you know what 'going ballistic' means." He glanced at Ellen, then continued on his way. A few moments later a device that looked like a flying stick zipped down the hall in my direction. It stayed close to the ceiling enroute, then settled on the floor next to Ellen and unfolded itself sideways to form a flat surface like a stretcher. When I tried to touch it my finger encountered a soft resistance a couple of inches from the surface. Gary came back out and we shifted Ellen onto the litter, which then elevated to about three feet and remained near Gary as we walked. “What the hell happened, Gary? One minute she was happy and the next she was on her way to ... Well, I don't know if she'd have killed you, but I think she would have pounded the crap out of you." He nodded. “You're right. She would have tried to. I received your warning, Ed. Thank you. I was prepared for her." Linda came running—running, no less—up to us looking very concerned. Gary said, “Ellen hasn't been taking her medication, Linda. The log shows none issued to her for the last week." I was trying to ease the ache in my shoulder as I asked, “What medication?" Linda said, “I'll tell you about it on the way, Ed. Let's go and let Gary handle things for now. I'll take you to a med room." “What's he going to do, Linda?" “He isn't going to hurt her, Ed. Now let's go. She's going to sleep for a day or more from this." “What the hell's the hurry and why can't I stick around to see what he's going to do to her?" Linda gave an exasperated shrug and said, “Fine. Watch, then, if it's all right with Gary." We followed Gary into the room. The litter was hovering motionless next to a console similar to a flitter's. Gary regarded the console screen for a moment, then sprayed something on Ellen's bicep and watched it disappear into her skin. He asked, “What do you know about genetics, Ed?"

“Damned little. Some, but not much." “It might help you to know what's happening and why. Ellen and I and the others assigned to this mission were potential products before we were born, Ed. We were genetically engineered for all the best characteristics of intelligence, stamina, and marketable appearances." He paused to spray again, then said, “Amara used to be a prime source of agricultural goods and technical instruction. A severe climatic disaster drove us underground and ruined our position in agricultural commerce. Nobody wanted to attend classes on a world in the throes of an ice age. To avoid starvation and poverty we began leasing our knowledge and skills to other worlds." After watching the screen for a few moments, Gary continued, “We, the people of Amara, became our world's product, with top of the line genes and even a few enhancements of those genes. We receive intense training from early childhood. When you lease one of us you lease the very best." Gary grinned at me wryly and added, “The best in a field, that is. We're good-looking and smart and educated to suit the specific needs of planned missions to various worlds in order to make us even more rentable, but it seems that our designers don't spare much precious production time for training us to interact with others, and some of us have just one small defect that seems to pop up occasionally no matter how much they tinker with the gene pool." “And Ellen has that tiny defect?" “Oh, yes, she does indeed. She's one of eight on this mission who have that defect. Are you familiar with bipolar disorder, as they call it on Earth?" “Vaguely. Highs and lows and not much in between. When it became a popular label for depression the pharmacies and psychs made a bundle off it. I understand there really are some people who have it among all the misdiagnosed cases." Gary chuckled. It irritated me, even though I'd been the one to cause it. He said, “Well, Ellen definitely has it. Keep her brain's serotonin and a few other things regulated and all's well. If she took no medication for a few days she'd likely fall into a deep depression. Upset her under those circumstances and you may get killed if she doesn't kill herself in despair." “Then why wasn't she taking her pills or whatever?" Gary said, “Not pills. Tiny patches, about like your timed-release patches. They adhere to the skin and completely dissolve into the body over about a week, then you put on a new one. She missed her last one, Ed. It would have been last Saturday, a day you two spent mostly in bed.” He looked up from Ellen and added, “She told me why neither of you were available that day." Linda said, “Sex—or more specifically—orgasms, can produce elevated levels of serotonin. A bipolar getting an extra dose of serotonin from good sex will sometimes stick with it until he or she collapses. Other times they pull enough to get by for a while and come back for more as soon as possible. Did Ellen just sort of drift off into a deep sleep after sex on Saturday?" I looked at Ellen's unconscious form. “She did. She seemed to be able to have one right after the other for an hour or so, then she rolled over and slept for about eight hours straight." I turned to Linda and asked, “Why wasn't making sure she got her meds part of my job description, Linda?" Gary shook his head and answered the question. “Linda didn't know at the time. In twenty-one years Ellen has never skipped a patch—that we know of —and her medications are all recorded. We didn't anticipate her skipping any, Ed. They've always been

part of her daily life." I looked down at Ellen's sleeping form and remembered her phenomenal strength. She seemed not to have injured herself, but I told Gary about the door panel and how she'd thrown me. Gary said, “Elkor, please check Ed and Ellen for damage." “Ellen is undamaged,” said Elkor. A field popped into being over my head and shimmeringly descended along the contours of my body until it touched the floor. Elkor's report included slightly torn shoulder ligaments and some incidental muscle damage. Gary gave me a swipe on the arm with something cold and damp that tingled, and after a couple of moments told Elkor to proceed. A field descended over me again and I suddenly felt as if my shoulder and upper arm had a bone-deep—but painless—sunburn. Gary said, “Microbots are repairing the damage and forcing tissue growth. What they can't fix or replace with your own tissue they'll replace with themselves until new tissue forms on its own." Elkor said, “I've found a few other things that need attention inside you, Ed. Shall I proceed to program the microbots for other repairs?" “Sure. Go for it. Check my left knee, while you're at it. Hey, if I stay in this field long enough, will I become twenty again?" “No, sorry,” said Gary. “You may feel that way, though." “Then I'm in no hurry to move. Take your time, Elkor." “Ed, about an inch of each of your vas deferens tubes is missing. It was obviously done deliberately, so I thought I should ask before reconnecting them." Jesus! He could have un-fixed me by fixing me! I almost covered my crotch with my hands. “No, Elkor! Don't reconnect them. They're just fine the way they are." Linda thought it was funny, but Gary was looking at me oddly. The sunburn effect moved from place to place within me for a few more moments, then Elkor pronounced the job finished and told me that various further repairs would occur over the next few days. I didn't feel different, but my shoulder had ceased hurting. I thanked him, then asked, “You can grow Linda a new section of spine. How come you can't fix Ellen instead of just patching her?" Gary said, “It was tried. The additional organ tissue deteriorated within months until all that was left was the original underdeveloped organ. The next time we tried it the added tissue wouldn't function as well and began deterioration sooner than before. We don't know why and we're afraid further efforts may damage or incite deterioration of the original organ." Chapter Eighteen Ellen was going to be out for several hours. Linda suggested that we use the time to look for my watch and stunner and that it was her turn for a ride in my new flitter. I introduced her to Stephanie and watched her eyes get big when she heard the flitter's voice, then I saw her eyes narrow as she spotted

the stain on the pilot's seat. “Well, Ed,” said Linda, “After what happened today, do you want to stick with Ellen or take another assignment?" “I'll keep her, thanks. She's no different from a diabetic. Make sure she gets her meds and she's fine. Skip the meds and she isn't fine." “You do tend to simplify things, Ed. What if she's too embarrassed to stay with you? Ever think of that?" “No, I haven't. We got over the snake thing and this isn't any worse, but if she can't get past it there are others to watch her." “Just like that? Bye and see ya, Ellen?" I stopped to pick up my stunner and looked for my watch. “Bye and see ya would be about the only choice if she decided to switch guards, wouldn't it? What's to discuss about that?" I saw my watch underneath Stephanie. “Stephie, would you hoist yourself up about six feet for me?" She did so. I scooted under her and grabbed my watch, then looked up to see that the bottom of a flitter was as featureless as the floor and scooted back out. “Thanks, ma'am. Got it. You can let yourself down now." Linda smiled and shook her head. “You talk to some machines as if they were people. I can't do that." “If you believe that, you're probably right." I put my watch on before I remembered the scrapes on my arm, but when I didn't feel pain I looked and found no scrapes. I was really becoming fond of those microbots. My watch seemed to be working, too. “Is that a hint, Ed?" “Huh? Is what a hint?" “You're looking at your watch. Getting tired of my chattering?" “Nope. Just looking for arm damage that used to be there and seeing if the watch works. Your time and mine match, so I guess it does." Linda stood looking at me for a time, then told the flitter to open its canopy. Stephanie ignored her command. Linda looked truly perplexed for a moment, then turned to me. “You've told it to accept only your commands?" “Had to. Ellen would have ordered her to drop the hallway field." “Are you going to rescind that command?" “I don't think there's a good reason for doing that just now. Maybe later." “Ellen could probably override it." “I'm supposed to be with her at all times, so there's no good reason." Linda nodded. “What about me?"

“Okay, what about you? You need to be able to command my flitter?" Linda glanced at me sharply and said, “Never mind. Forget it." “Done. You still want a ride?" “Like you said, Ed ... Maybe later." With that Linda gave me a little 'bye-bye' wave and walked out of the bay. I watched her go, noting that her legs were shaping up pretty well. She must have spotted my gaze in a reflection or assumed that I'd be looking, because she turned quickly and gave me a wry grin as she put her hands on her hips and stretched her left leg toward me, flexing the thigh and calf. “They're coming back, Ed. A few more miles and they'll be as good as before. I'm sure you remember how they used to be?" “Sure do, Linda. I'm happy for you." She smiled a bit too sweetly and continued leaving. “Linda,” I said. She turned again and waited for me to say more. “Don't be too quick to acquiesce if Ellen says she wants a new partner. Make her explain it and make her tell me herself before granting anything." “I don't like being told how to do my job, Ed." “Then don't flaunt your legs at the hired help until his assignment's over." “Maybe it should occur to you that your assignment is over when I say it is." “Or when I say it is. If I have to walk out because of a power tripping boss, I won't be available later and I won't keep my reasons for leaving a secret. What happened to the woman who wouldn't dally with men working under her?" Linda walked back into the bay and directly up to me. At a distance of perhaps six inches she quietly said, “That woman spent seven sexless years in a wheelchair before a man she had once truly enjoyed was again within her reach. If I choose to assign someone new for Ellen, that someone will be as good as you and you know it, Ed. It can't be any other way with this project." She backed off a foot or so and asked, “Are you in love with her? Is that why you won't let her go?" “If I loved her you wouldn't have to ask. You'd know." “Then what is it? Why shouldn't I reassign her?" “Because that would make me choose between being your payroll pet and going back into retirement, Linda. If you can take advantage of Ellen's possible embarrassment now, why wouldn't you take advantage of me later if it suited you? If Ellen truly wants out, okay. Done. In that case I'd visit you here or even move in for a while, but I'd be re-retired and no longer working for you." “Is that all, Ed?" “No." Linda stood silent for a moment, then spread her arms and said, “Well, I'm just dying to know what else is on your mind, Ed. Are you going to tell me or not?" “I'm still thinking about that and I'm kind of wondering if you're the one I should be talking to about it." That set her back for a moment. She looked hard at me and decided I wasn't simply being difficult. She

was suddenly all business. “I see,” said Linda. “Maybe we should take that ride. Where to?" “How about a beach?" “We can't land this thing near a tourist trap." “We'll find a place. Stephanie, open up. We're flying." Fifteen minutes later we'd found a stretch of Florida beach that was devoid of people. There were a few no-trespassing signs at the edge of the pine forest and the remains of a boat some distance up the beach from where we landed. I tossed my watch on the pilot's seat and Linda tossed hers beside it, then we exited the flitter and walked toward the wreckage. Neither of us said anything much. Linda was enjoying the open air and sand between her toes. “This was a good idea, Ed." “Thought you might like it, ma'am." At the wreckage she found a place to sit. I didn't have to tell her to sit facing away from Stephanie and to keep her voice down. “Well?” she asked as I sat down beside her. “Linda, one of my uncles used to raise hunting dogs. He never sold anyone a dog that couldn't or wouldn't hunt. Not once in thirty years." Linda said nothing, but she looked at me oddly. “I was twelve when I met him, and when people talked about how he never sold anyone a bad dog I felt kind of proud. I didn't give a rat's ass about dogs or his dog business, but never turning out a clunker seemed pretty impressive. I figured the ones that didn't work out were sold or given away as pets." Linda nodded. “Ah, I see. But they weren't, were they?" “Nope. One night I heard a shotgun go off twice out by the kennel. The next day there were two fewer dogs in the pack. At least he didn't try to bullshit me about it. He said his reputation was on the line and that his dogs were what made him special in three counties. Without that rep he was just another farmer." Linda reached down to let a handful of sand dribble through her fingers onto her toes, then said, “I see where you're going, but they gave me my legs back, Ed. They didn't have to. They offered to fix me the day they met me." “They had the means to repair you and it bought the project some instant goodwill early on, Linda. It cost a few doctors a bit of sleep, but that's all. It was a godsend for you, but—to them—just an impressive trinket for the natives. What happens to the factory seconds on Amara? Are they given away as pets?" “There are other things for people to do, Ed. Remember how much trouble Gary and Ellen had with a killing shot at the range? Somehow that doesn't fit with what you're suggesting." I shook my head. “They're carefully designed products, Linda, not leaders of worlds. Limited facilities and resources, yet they make more people for export. What's the failure rate for that sort of manufacturing? They aren't just stamping out sheet metal parts, Linda. Where do the rejects go?" I tossed a shell into the water and asked, “Remember the phrase 'acceptable losses'? It was real popular

for a while in Washington some years ago. What do they call it these days? I haven't really been keeping up, you know." Linda stood and dug her feet into the sand by the water's edge. “It's their world and their culture and their solution to their problems. We can't tell them how to live, so what's your point, Ed?" “Maybe I don't have one. Maybe it just bugs me that Ellen and the others are products of a puppy farm somewhere in space and that I know what can happen to puppies that can't hunt." “If you're worried about Ellen..." “Nope. She'll be back on-line shortly. She's fixable." “Then what's left to talk about, Ed? Things are as they are, as you used to be so fond of saying. It's the way Amarans support themselves." “I'm not even sure we ought to pass the question along to see what comes of it. If the Nazis had managed to hold onto Europe, would the U.S. be trading with them today? Sure they would. They'd be finding ways to rationalize the wheeling and dealing. The Jews wouldn't have Israel and they damned sure wouldn't be opening Holocaust museums here in the States ‘cause such things would be considered bad for business. Chances are we'd run into a lot of that sort of sentiment if we tried to push this issue." Linda gave me a wry grin and asked, “And if we found out that they shoot the rejects, would you feel a need to give that flitter back?" “Nope. She'll never have a better home and giving her back wouldn't fix a damned thing. But if I had one on order, I'd cancel it. How's that?" Linda laughed. “Such a theoretical sacrifice, Ed. I'm impressed." “Uh, huh. A lot of people wouldn't want to buy them if they had my suspicions about the Amarans. Making flitters the only vehicle available would be the only answer to that—a move which is already underway—so I'm not prepared to believe that I'm the only one who suspects, or maybe even knows things for a fact. The big-assed ball of commerce is rolling now, and I think we'd be officially discouraged from sharing any suspicions about the Amarans whatsoever. We might even have tragic accidents if we aren't very careful who we tell." Linda seemed thoughtfully quiet for a few moments. “Something else, Linda. Gary said they were short on social training; relating to other people. Why do you suppose that is?" “Maybe it seemed less important than their marketable skills." “Maybe it was more important to let the exports pick up the customs where they're going to be staying. Instil some basic programming and lock it down, then send them to wherever and let them go native— within reasonable parameters, of course. Damned few, if any, of the mission people will be going back, I'll bet. I think they and their descendants will be with us forever. Gary called it leasing, and maybe it is, sort of, but I'd say they're installed like their flitter engines." “This is getting a little harder to accept, Ed." “Let it gel a bit and tell me that again later. They're exported labor. After their initial training they'd go away and stay away and generate income for mother Amara as long as they lived. We have religious orders that run such systems. Maybe the Amarans do it on a societal and somewhat grander scale."

Linda said, “That would make one wonder who is really in charge, then. Who is putting up the— money?—for the ventures? Who leases Amarans for projects?" “Could be they dreamed up these projects themselves, Linda. They needed income and had only people and knowledge to offer. Could be the Amarans are marketing their knowledge, their product people, and the products of the others they've set up in business. There may be no one else in charge; just separate corporate entities organized to handle various aspects of things." Linda said, “I've tried to look up info about Amara using the pads. There isn't much in the database that isn't very like a sales brochure. Nothing is mentioned of there being any Amarans who aren't at least on a par with Gary and Ellen." “Makes sense to me. If you make something, why not use it yourself? Could be they've been at this so long they've re-engineered themselves from the top down. There may be no Amarans in the general herd who are less than Gary and Ellen." Someone emerged from the tree line and headed for us. He appeared to be a real Forestry Ranger, not a fake like the guard at the trailer. “Didn't you people see the signs?" I said, “We didn't go into the woods." “They're for this area in general." Linda said, “Fine. We'll leave, then." The guy squinted down the beach and said, “Your boat doesn't have registration numbers. Care to explain that?" I said, “There's nothing to explain. She isn't a boat." “I don't see any tracks on the beach." “She doesn't have wheels, either." “Then it's either a boat or a hovercraft. Either way, you need registration numbers to use it. I'll need to see some ID from both of you." “Whatever,” I said, reaching for my back pocket. When I stunned him lightly Linda grabbed his gun as he went to his knees. She unloaded it and stuffed the shells in his shirt pocket as he stared dazedly up at her, then she tossed his gun into the trees at the edge of the beach. “We're leaving now,” I said. “You'll be fine in a few minutes." The guy was looking in the direction Linda had thrown his gun as we walked away. He tried to move and fell over, then managed to sit up. “Stephanie,” I said in a conversational tone. “Yes, Ed." “Come to meet us. We need to leave fairly quickly." “Yes, Ed." The flitter zipped across the sand toward us and stopped near us. We got in and took a last look at the Forest Ranger. He was on his feet already, staggering toward the trees. I saw something move some distance inside the treeline and told Stephanie to take a look at it.

“What's moving in the trees, Steph?" “It appears to be a small black bear." “Small? How small?" “It is only two meters in length." “Damn. Can't leave yet, Linda. Let's stay between the man and the bear, Steph. Elevate to three feet and leave the canopy open." As we pulled near the guy I said, “We'll park over your gun and stay between you and the bear. Where's your vehicle?" “Who are you people? What bear?" “Look for it near your gun and get moving. We'll cover you." The Ranger heard something and looked toward the trees. The bear was messing with something on the ground up there. When it raised its head we could see it was trying to chew on the Ranger's gun. I said, “Another change of plans, Ranger. Hop aboard and remember that the lady has a stunner like mine, so behave." The Ranger stared at us for a moment, then swung himself onto the flitter. I headed us toward the bear, who seemed not to notice us right away. When it did, we were closer than it liked and it tried to rear up, but its right leg collapsed under it. It fell with an agonized roar and haltingly tried again. “Steph, take control and take us to within three feet of the bear's tallest reach. Ranger, I'll zap the bear and you get your gun. Don't load it, please, just get it." He looked at me for a moment, then said, “Okay." The bear tried to reach for us as we hovered above it and I had to zap it several times before it finally lay quiet. The Ranger dropped down to get his gun and stayed to have a look at the bear. “Her right leg is broken,” he said. “Probably got hit by a car out on the highway. I'll have to get help to move her." “Wait one. Steph, can you somehow lift the bear?" “Yes, Ed." “Without injuring it? If so, how?" “Yes, Ed. I can extend a field that will hold the bear against my underside." “Ranger, get back aboard and we'll take the bear to your vehicle." As he was re-boarding the flitter, Linda said, “He has a radio. Let him call for help and do it their usual way." “This is more fun, ma'am, and it may save the bear some pain. Okay, Steph. Let's grab that bear and find the Ranger's vehicle." And so it went. We picked up the bear, lifted above the trees, then lowered back among the trees a few moments later to settle beside the Ranger's truck. The bear was reviving as we released the field and backed away, so I got out and zapped it again until it lay quiet. The Ranger watched me aim at the bear and apparently do nothing and he saw nothing to indicate the stunner had fired, but the bear nonetheless went limp.

He said, “That's an interesting gadget." “Yeah. Sorry I used it on you, but we didn't have the answers you were going to want at the time and we aren't allowed to let ourselves get busted." The Ranger opened his truck and pulled out a tranquilizer gun and Linda immediately aimed her stunner at him. “Linda,” I said, “It's a single-shot Benjamin air rifle. He couldn't possibly reload before one of us got him, so it kind of has to be for the bear, I think." The Ranger nodded. “It is. I want her quiet until I can get her to a vet. Thanks for helping me haul her over here. I see now why you two didn't want to show me ID. That's quite a vehicle. Are you two aliens?" “No,” I said. “You mind if we drop by that beach again now and then? We're trying to work some things out without an audience." “What kind of things?" I nodded toward Linda. “Personal stuff, man. You know how it is. There's just no damned privacy on that ship. Everybody knows everybody else's business." The Ranger stared at me and then at Linda in her jogging outfit and then he chuckled as he came to the most obvious conclusion about us. “It sounds a lot like my office,” he said. “Yeah. I think I've got the picture." He looked at the bear and put the gun down to get a stretcher out of the truck, took it over next to the bear and unfolded it, then went back for the dart gun. After pumping it once, he aimed at the bear's flank and fired, then pulled the dart out of the bear's butt and set it on the ground. When he started to shift and roll the bear onto the stretcher I went to help him do it and then helped him lift the stretcher into the back of his truck. “Tell you what,” he said. “You haven't acted like poachers at all. I only check this area on Thursday afternoons, if you really want some privacy." He looked at the flitter and said, “I can truthfully say that I haven't seen any unregistered boats or cars today. You're not fishing or hunting or camping on protected land, and since you weren't disturbing the wildlife, whatever else you may have been doing sounds like none of my business. Good enough?" “Good enough." He put his rifle on the back seat and said, “I have to deliver a bear to a vet, so I'd better get moving before that shot wears off. See you around, maybe." He waved as he backed up to turn his truck around, then drove away through the trees. I climbed back aboard Stephanie and asked Linda if she wanted to go back out on the beach. She said she wouldn't mind staying right where we were for a while and soaking up some outdoors. We left the canopy open for air and folded the seats back and stretched out in the shade of the pines and talked about people and places and events we had in common until something occurred to her. “Ed, where are the mosquitoes? The flies? The bugs?" “The field must be up. Stephie, are you keeping the bugs out?" “Yes, Ed. Should I let them in?" “Oh, no, Steph. I just wondered about them, that's all. Thank you."

Linda laughed. “I think Stephie's going to be your new girlfriend, Ed." “I could do worse. She's not like other women, you know. She'll never be on my ass about toilet seats or forgetting holidays or having other girlfriends." “True enough. We should make this a regular thing, Ed. I'd forgotten how good sand and wind feels. And real privacy." “Just work something out and tell me when to pick you up." If we'd thought about that trip to the beach before heading out we might have taken something to eat or drink, but we hadn't, and only a couple of hours went by before Linda suggested that we go back to the ship because Stephanie hadn't come equipped with a toilet. It was only a casual, joking way to tell me she wanted to get to a bathroom, but Linda's remark made me consider what items I might like to have aboard Stephie at all times. I began making a mental list on the way back to the ship. Chapter Nineteen I didn't stay aboard the ship waiting for Ellen. Gary delivered her to the house in the early evening two days later while I was at the grocery store. When I returned Ellen had taken a few things to her room and hadn't come back out, so while Gary took a turn at the stove I went to see how she was doing. The door was ajar and I could see Ellen lying on the bed with Bear. She seemed lost in thought and Bear was sprawled next to her to make himself as available as possible to her hand. I knocked lightly and asked, “Ellen, do you feel all right?" She didn't take her eyes off the ceiling as she replied, “Don't worry, Ed, I'm not going to go crazy again." “If anyone thought you would, you wouldn't be here. I asked if you felt all right. Nothing else was implied." Ellen glanced sharply at me and said, “Yes. I feel fine, Ed." I said nothing else and left to return to the kitchen. Gary and I put dinner on the table and Gary went to tell Ellen that dinner was ready. He came back alone. “She said she isn't hungry, but she hasn't eaten since breakfast." “She knows how to warm up leftovers. She won't starve. Dig in." Gary paused in loading his plate and said, “Something's really bothering her, Ed. She was like this yesterday, too." I turned off my watch. After a moment, Gary turned his off, too. “Gary, if you'd had an episode like that you'd be asking yourself a lot of questions, too. She'll get through it." “What kind of questions?" “Self-examination questions. Re-evaluation questions. An unpleasant side of herself popped out and ran loose. Until it happened it was theoretical. Maybe she didn't want to believe it was really in there. Stuff like that." Gary put his fork down. “I don't mean this offensively, Ed, but this has been the result of a uniquely

Amaran genetic disorder and you have no medical credentials beyond emergency assistances. What makes you think you have any idea what she's going through at the moment?" “Heh. 'Uniquely Amaran'. Bullshit, Gary. Uniquely human, maybe. She's known about her condition all this time. She skipped a patch and let the monster out. Now she's wondering why she did it." He watched me eat for a moment and asked, “Why do you think she did it?" “Don't know. Maybe she just needed to see if it was real." Gary said, “That's absurd. Ellen has been using the patches since she was a child. She knew her condition required them." “She knew that's what she'd been told all her life, Gary. Maybe she began to wonder about that. After a couple of days with no patch and no obvious derangement, she may have gotten the idea that her condition was a lie. Chain it together, Gary. If there's a lie, there must be a reason for the lie. If you're handing out patches, you'd be part of that lie. As soon as she had thoughts like that she'd be looking for some kind of conspiracy." I munched some French fries and continued, “As her condition worsened, she'd be looking for any opportunity to generate serotonin and she'd be trying to figure out the conspiracy. Right after she banged me hard underwater she triggered on your apparent disapproval of our bout in the flitter, Gary. Her words were 'he has no right'. I ask you now; did she mean no right to an opinion about her pleasures, or no right to fuck with her life and her mind?" Gary was incredulous. “But ... But, I wasn't part of any conspiracy..." “I know that and you know that. Maybe she knows that, too, now that her head's back in chemical balance, but she still has to deal with what happened and why it happened. Now tell me why none of this had occurred to you, even as a bit of speculation. You've had medical training and you've been treating her for a disorder you obviously know something about, so you had to know that bipolars can develop severe paranoias at the drop of a hat." “A hat..?” He was staring at me. “An expression that means 'instantly and with damn little reason'. It doesn't matter. You fixed her chemical problem and suddenly the world seemed normal again. She needs time to come to terms with things, that's all." Gary's eyes abruptly switched their focus to the hallway. “Anyway,” I said, “The colonel had Pabst in his jeep and we hadn't seen anything but Schlitz or Tiger Piss Asian beer for months. We put eight cases of the beer in a new bodybag and set it beside one of the other bodybags." Gary's eyes widened as they refocused on me and I continued, “Yeah. We stole his beer. Then we went inside and checked the bulletin board. The colonel walked right past us. When he started yelling we went out with everybody else to see what was wrong, then we joined the group that was moving the bags." Gary looked back over my shoulder as I said, “We gave the two guys in the morgue a case of beer for their cooperation and put the rest in the cooler while we waited for the colonel and the MP's to leave. When the helicopter came to take us back to our unit we had the beer in laundry bags and supply boxes." Hands fell on my shoulders. I looked up as Ellen looked down. Ellen said, “Good try, Ed, but I heard some of your earlier conversation."

I put my hands on hers and said, “Are you hungry yet? Now that you can see and smell what we slaved over a hot stove to make for you?" “Slaved? Oh, well, then ... Maybe a little. It does smell good." She sat down and loaded her plate, then seemed to think about things. She put one of the baked potatoes back and replaced it with green beans. After a few bites from her plate, she looked at me. “Did you get caught with the beer?" “Nope. We got away with it. When a supply bird arrives most guys try to disappear before someone can grab them for a work detail to unload it. We had all the beer in the laundry bags by then, so we carried a couple of boxes to the commo bunker and signed in, then kept going from there back to our own digs." A car door closed outside. I lifted off my chair enough to see out the kitchen window and a sheriff waved at me as he approached the porch. “A sheriff's deputy,” I said, rising to have another look out the window before going to the door. “No reason I can think of for it, so have your stunner ready, Gary. Stand by the alcove door where you can be seen behind me." When I opened the door the deputy was holding a clipboard with a picture clamped to it. He introduced himself as Deputy Greer and showed me the picture. “Do you know this man? Have you seen him around here?" Ellen joined us at the door as I let the deputy in. “Yes,” she said. “I've seen him walking around the neighborhood for two months or so.” She looked at the deputy and added, “Lots of people walk around in this neighborhood, though." The deputy said, “But they live around here. He doesn't. His name is Billy Jay Marks. He's from Orlando and he's part of what used to be a white supremacist group. They've adjusted their aim to include aliens, lately, and somehow they've gotten the idea that someone here is an alien." I looked at the deputy with a grin. “If I said I'm an alien, would I have to do some kind of neato trick to prove it, or would you just take my word for it?" The deputy looked me over and said, “That's quite a disguise, then. No, I'm here to let you know you've been stalked. One of your neighbors reported him as being in your yard and trying to get into your car earlier today so we picked him up for questioning. Have you noticed anything missing, sir? I looked at Gary and Ellen, then back at the cop and said, “If they think there's an alien here, he wasn't likely here to steal. He was more likely here to deliver something if he wasn't just poking around. Maybe he planted a bug?" The deputy and I took a walk around the house and saw tracks that didn't match his or mine in the soil near the windows and the big glass doors in back. The deputy took pictures of the clearest footprints and then asked that we come down to the station. My watch double-beeped and I said it was time to take my pills, then headed for the bathroom. Once I was in the bathroom, I answered the call. Linda told me to go along with things for the moment, so after an appropriate amount of time and a flush, I rejoined the others and we took Gary's car to the station. We watched through a one-way window and listened as Billy Jay was questioned again. He claimed to have been visiting a friend and just taking a walk after dinner. The deputy in the listening booth nodded.

“Not surprisingly, the man at the address he gave us verified his visit." When asked what he'd been doing in my yard, he said he'd thought he'd seen smoke and had taken a look. The deputy asked if he'd thought he'd seen smoke at all the windows and the back doors, too. Billy Jay shrugged and said that one couldn't be too careful about these things. All they had was a footprint and a witness. Nothing was stolen or broken, so unless I wanted to press trespassing charges the whole mess was a waste of time. As I exited the little room into the hallway I heard radio chatter from a passing deputy's lapel microphone that for some reason seemed worthy of note. I asked her what was going on. “A car caught fire near the intersection of Northcliffe and Deltona,” she said. I looked at Deputy Greer and said, “My house is a block from there. Billy Jay made his visit just before dark so he'd be seen acting very suspiciously. Now it's dark and we're all here and there's a neighborhood distraction." Greer called for two units to approach my house from different directions and to hold anyone found on the property. A few moments later there was more radio chatter as they chased and caught someone they'd seen coming out of my house. One of the deputies said he'd bring the guy in while the other stayed there. My watch double-beeped and Greer heard it, but he said nothing as I shrugged and ignored it. The guy they brought in was a heavily-tattooed skinhead who refused to give his name and carried no ID. A search of his person had turned up a double-edged boot knife with a crudely-carved swastika in the aluminum handle, but nothing that would tell them who he was or what he'd been doing in my house. I tapped Greer's shoulder and said, “Assume he left me a present. What would that present be? I want to get my cat out of there." Greer said, “The bomb detail is already on its way. I'll tell them to watch for your cat." “He'll probably hide from them. I'll get him out. Take me home." “I can't let you go there yet, sir." I turned to Gary and said, “Stun him." Greer turned around quickly. Gary showed him his empty hands. When Greer looked back at me I zapped him. “You guys wait here. Linda will cover all this somehow. Gimme the keys, Gary." I took the keys and slipped out. There were three cop cars at the house when I arrived. I parked on the swale a few doors down and cut through a couple of neighbors’ yards to get to mine. One of the cops out front saw me vault the fence and yelled something, then came after me. By then I was unlocking the garage's side door. The cop was too close, so I gave him a medium zap to slow him down and locked the door behind me after I was inside. I cracked open the inside garage door and ran my knife blade along the edges to check for wires. Nothing. A little wider open and a look to be sure, then I stepped through it and into the den. Nothing was obviously out of place and nothing unusual was in sight. Bear saw me and came running, then ran back the way he'd come and stood yowling repeatedly near the coffee table. He was acting like that robot in 'Lost in Space' that always flapped its arms and yelled

'Danger, Will Robinson!'. I saw nothing on or near the table to justify Bear's commotion, so I put him in his carrier and prepared to open the front door. My PDA/pad was on the kitchen counter where I'd left it, so I grabbed it to take it with me. As soon as I touched it, Elkor spoke. “Ed, Bear has been trying to tell you something." “Yeah, Elkor. I noticed." “I think he was referring to the couch. It was like his ‘chair’ sound, but slightly different. I also detect unusual electrical activity in the room." I set Bear by the door and went to have a quick look. Lifting the trim slightly I could see a dark object under the couch. More vehicles were arriving. I went back to get Bear and opened the front door. A deputy just outside yanked the screen open and grabbed my right arm. I had the stunner and the PDA in my right hand, so I zapped him lightly near the belt buckle. He jerked and let go, then made to grab me again. I pointed the stunner at him and he froze. I said, “Don't grab at me. I can walk without help. Just tell somebody there's a bomb under my couch." Another deputy was running up. She asked, “You think you saw a bomb?" As we walked away from the door towards the street, I said, “There's a lump under my couch. I don't keep my lumps under my couch, ma'am." Well, I thought it was kind of funny, even if she didn't. She jogged back to one of the cars as a panel van with a trailer pulled up in the street. The deputy I'd zapped led me to the far side of the panel van. I set Bear down by the truck and waited next to him to be told to move again when they brought out the lump to put it in the specially-designed bomb trailer. We weren't there long. The deputy I'd zapped at the side door was stopped by someone in a suit who sent him over to me. I picked up Bear and stood up. “Sir, I'm going to have to ask for that weapon." Apparently addressing thin air, I asked, “Linda?" Linda said, “No. Clark's people will be there shortly." Linda's voice seemed to have emanated from Bear's carrier. The two cops stared pretty hard at my cat for a moment. I said, “Sorry, guys. I'm not authorized to give it to you." “Sir, if we have to, we can disarm you." I didn't say anything. I just zapped them both with a medium jolt. They fell more or less limp to the street just as the guy in the suit was coming around the corner of the van. He went for his gun, so I zapped him, too. I said, “I know you can all hear me. I can't give you this gadget. My boss is bigger than your boss and some people are on their way here to prove it." The suited deputy's cell phone rang while he was struggling to his feet. He ignored it and kept his attention on me. “Go ahead. Take the call,” I said. “I won't move, okay?"

The other two deputies were also getting up. I moved to put them all more or less in a line of fire for the stunner and said, “Everybody just relax." The suited guy didn't answer his phone and all of them looked to me as if they were just waiting for an opening. Another suited deputy came jogging around the back of the van and stopped next to the first suited deputy. “Harry, answer your goddamned phone. You two get these cars out of here and you—he pointed to me —come with me. They're bringing the bombs out." When nobody moved instantly, he noticed that something appeared to have been going on. He snapped, “Now, damn it! Move those cars!" He started to grab for Bear's carrier and I said, “No. I'll take my cat. You take Harry, there. He doesn't like me much right now." The guy glanced at Harry, then back at me. He reached to take Harry's ringing phone out of his coat pocket and shoved it at him, then gave me a come-along wave and started toward the end of the block. The heavily-padded bomb people were carrying something out of the house as we reached one of the undecorated sheriff's cars. They put the item in the trailer and went back into the house. A few minutes later they came out with another of the objects. Harry snapped his phone shut and jammed it into his pocket, then left without a word to me or the other suit. “We've been told to send you back to the station." I turned around to look at the other suited deputy. “Send, not bring? Just like that?" “Just like that. I'll follow you about a block behind. Where's your car?" I pointed at old Malibu in the driveway. Padded people were examining it at that moment. I waved at one of them as he stood up. He ignored me. “That's my car, but I won't be using it. I'll be in that green Chevy halfway down the block." The deputy nodded as I pointed out Gary's car and got into his own car, so I walked toward the Chevy. Something didn't seem right as I approached it. “Elkor, can you scan the Chevy? Something doesn't feel quite right." “Take the pad closer, Ed." I set Bear down behind a tree and walked toward the car. About twenty feet from the car Elkor said, “There's another of those low-voltage electrical signals coming from the rear of the car." “Will going near it set it off?" “I don't think so. Sensor data would indicate a timing mechanism." I looked back at the deputy in his car. He'd noticed my actions. When I got down to look under the rear of the car and pointed, he got out of his car and came running toward me. A few minutes later I was standing by his car again as the bomb squad removed a package from the Chevy. “How did you know?” asked the deputy. I had to wait to answer as he directed some people concerning a search for a third bad guy.

“Just did,” I said. “Something didn't feel right." “Didn't feel right?" “Yeah. Like I saw or heard something and couldn't quite realize it consciously, so my subconscious set my bells off to make me look and listen harder." He nodded. People always like that kind of explanation. It sounds perfectly reasonable and drains off any hint of mysticism. I walked to the Chevy and put Bear on the passenger seat. “Guess you come with me to the station, Bear. The house is going to be full of strangers and bombsniffing dogs for a while yet." “Yahh." Elkor said, “I don't know what that sound meant." “I do. It means I looked at him as I talked to him and he feels better because I'm here and we're away from all the people and noise." “Are you joking, Ed?" “Not really. If you were Bear, how would you feel right now?" “I don't think I'm equipped to speculate well how a cat might feel." “Well, slip into a cat suit sometime and I'll haul you around in a cage until you can, Elkor. That's not a joke, either. It might give you a unique perspective." “I'll consider your suggestion, Ed." About halfway to the station Elkor reported that Clark's team had taken over the situation at my house and that Linda, being the closest ranking member of the organization, was on her way to the station. When I got there I asked if the guys had any hope of being bailed out. Greer told me that wasn't very likely under circumstances, then asked me why I was asking about their bail. I said, “I was kind of hoping they'd drop by the house again sometime." Ellen's gaze narrowed a bit at that statement. I ignored her look and suggested that we go home. In the car I said, “Linda, the 'blending with the natives' idea just expired, I think. Relocating Ellen won't make the bad guys forget about my house, so I'd like to have some countermeasures installed. How did they come to the conclusion that there were aliens living at my address? What made them sure enough to plant bombs?" “We're already looking into those questions, Ed. Get with Elkor about countermeasures. He says he can mount sensors and stunners all around the house, inside and out, and send you a field generator to install in the attic that will deflect anything short of a howitzer shell." “Something for the car would be nice, too." Elkor said, “That will be no problem." “How soon could we pick up the equipment?" “I'm working on the generators now. They should be ready by midnight." “Gary can pick them up while we keep an eye on things. How big would a field generator be if it were tailored to protect an individual, Elkor? Bulletproof, rad-proof, gas proof, everything else-proof?" “The smallest generator I can make would probably fit in your small backpack, but it would weigh over

one hundred and fifty pounds. I could extend a field from a drone, but it would stop only radiation or gas with certainty, not bullets or shrapnel." “So we're back to staying alert when we're in public. Okay. Thanks, Elkor." Gary let us out and left immediately for the ship. The two deputies that had been left to watch the house seemed surprised to hear we were going to stay in the house that night. I let them remain surprised and told them that I might be out now and then during the night and that Gary would be returning later. I gave Ellen the .357 and told her to make sure she wasn't aiming at me. She didn't see the humor of my remark. When I took the .22 revolver out of the ammo box for myself, I held it near the PDA and told Elkor to let Linda have a look. Linda's voice came through the PDA speaker. “Is that the same gun you had in Africa?" “It is." “Damn, Ed. You never get rid of anything, do you?" “As long as it works, why should I?" “Because it's a goddamned mouse gun, that's why." “We've had this discussion before." “And it's still a goddamned mouse gun, Ed. Why don't you have another .357 or a shotgun or something?" I held up a little red box for the PDA camera. “Run the specs on this ammo for her, Elkor. Show her the sales brochures. These beat the hell out of the old hollowpoints, Linda, and the old hollowpoints got me through Africa and more well enough." Linda said, “One of these days you're going to run into something that mouse gun and luck won't handle, Ed. What then?" “Then don't send flowers and come prepared. You'll be my executrix, and you'll get to referee while all my relatives fight over the goodies." “If you had goodies to fight over I'd know about them. Just watch your six." Ellen looked confused. “Watch what?" “Your six o'clock,” said Linda. “Your behind. Your ass. Look it up. Bye, all." Chapter Twenty A few aspects of security arrangements for the entire program were changed and beefed up after the bomb attempt. Three other similar attempts were made around the country during the following week. None succeeded and there were many arrests, but nobody was stupid enough to think the crisis had passed. A great deal of the ship had been dismantled and removed to the factory site by the end of the project's seventh month. The same local weatherman who had originally estimated the ship's diameter at one mile had begun using a series of 'before and after' pictures to enhance his portion of the news hour.

I happened to be watching the evening that he declared the latest diameter to be less than a quarter-mile and wondered aloud how much more might be removed. The sports reporter, who had apparently read some of the news desk's non-sports-related missives, instantly upstaged him. “They're saying that there will be less than ten percent of the original ship out there when they're done, Tom. Only the core—the propulsion unit—will remain." Both of the newsies had to try to conceal their displeasure as the sports guy pretended to politely inform his colleague while on the air. Tom gave him a tight smile and thanked him very tersely. The other two anchor people pretended to be busy with their papers. The sports reporter then ran through the scores from wherever and the show moved on. The following evening the sports reporter was listed as having taken a few days off for family reasons and one of the women reporters normally seen reporting from county fairs and doing fluff-stories handled the sports segment. Gary showed up for our Saturday afternoon cookout with a woman named Lyssa whom I'd met twice in passing at meetings. She wasn't an Amaran, and somehow that surprised me. What surprised me more was Alanah showing up an hour later with a new date of her own, Daniel, who was introduced to me as being from Maryland, not Amara. Everybody seemed to get along just fine. When Ellen came over to watch me start up the grill, I asked what had happened to break up Gary's thing with Alanah. Ellen looked mildly surprised and said that she'd thought I'd known that it hadn't been that kind of ‘thing'. “Well, they spent enough time together, Ellen. It sure looked like that kind of thing, or the beginnings of it." “It wasn't. They're just friends, Ed." I looked at Alanah, who was lounging by the pool in a swimsuit. Maybe it was just her position, but it seemed to me she was getting a bit of a belly. Too much Earth cooking? Daniel came over to her and seemed very solicitous. Nope. Not cooking. Alanah was in early preggers, betcha. In the slight reflection of the glass-topped table I thought I saw Ellen make a slight face of displeasure, but when I looked at her, her expression was one of wry patience with my roving attention. “Don't even think about it, Earthie. You're with me." Ellen was wearing a swimsuit, too. I looked her up and down leeringly and said, “Yas'm, Miz Alien Lady. I'm definitely with you." “I'll bring you a gin and bitter lemon on the way back from the kitchen, then. Don't strain your eyes in the meantime." “No, ma'am,” I said as she left. “I'll keep my staring at other gorgeous alien women to a minimum. Seen one, seen ’em all, anyway, right?" She turned and made a face at me briefly. But a thought had crossed my mind. Not whether I could nail Alanah. Not even whether Gary had nailed Alanah. It had suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't seen or heard of any of the Amarans pairing up with each other. Put any three hundred people together for close to a year. Some of them will form relationships. Unless, apparently, they were Amarans. Or unless I just wasn't aware of those who had gotten together, which

was entirely possible. When Linda arrived I told her I had a topic for our next visit to the beach. She arched an eyebrow at me. “I was unaware you'd broken up with Ellen, Ed." “Behave, Linda. The anniversary of the ship's arrival is coming up soon. I was thinking there maybe ought to be a big party. Anyone suggested it yet?" “Not that I'm aware of,” said Linda. “And I would be aware of it." “It might be interesting to get everybody involved in the project together." “You, of all people, are suggesting a party? You hate parties." “Just the kind you used to drag me to, Linda. Bureaucrats and stuffed shirts having cocktails with their sycophants. I'm talking about something more like this cookout, with everybody bringing their spouses or a date. Their kids, too. Something for the whole family. Outdoors in a park, maybe. What do you think?" After a moment, she said, “I think it would be a logistical nightmare to get everybody to and from the party. Let's talk about it next beach day." 'Beach day' was what we called our weekly visit to the bit of Florida gulf coast where we'd met the ranger. I'd made a suggestion that was so totally out of character that it would chew on her until she could figure out what I was up to. Linda went to get us another couple of drinks. When she returned she put my drink on the table and looked at me oddly for a moment, then left me to show Gary how to cook on an open grill. Ellen came over and asked, “What was that about?" I grinned. “I suggested a project anniversary party. I don't think Linda knew I could count all the way up to three hundred and sixty-five." Ellen giggled. “She probably thought Gary or I put you up to it." I grinned at her and said, “She definitely wondered where it came from." “What did she say about it?" “She thinks the logistics would be nearly impossible. Everybody's too spread out, too busy, or possibly even not interested enough." Ellen nodded and asked, “And what do you think?" “I think she knows what would be involved better than I would, Ellen. I only see my little chunk of things." Ellen nodded again just as the grill flared up. It was only some burning grease, but it startled the hell out of Gary. He was missing some arm hair, but was otherwise fine, so I left him to it and went inside to check Bear. Bear was sitting in the window watching the show in the back yard. I watched his eyes track someone across the patio until they reached me. He regarded me for a moment and said, “Yahh." It wasn't the instant, shining, 'hi, there!' greeting he usually gave me. It was a flat, brief monotone of sound. I walked over and rubbed his chin. “Sorry, Bear. They won't be staying, though. In a few hours it will be just you, Ellen, and me again.

Can you hang on that long?" Bear sat up on the window ledge and looked out as he said, “Yahh." He sounded resigned to his fate of enduring the crowd in his home. Gary and Alanah and their dates stayed to help clean up, then left after some winding-down conversation. When I returned to stretch out on the couch after seeing them out, Bear climbed up on my chest and sat there like the Sphinx. Ellen sat on the sofa chair and seemed lost in thought as she stared at him while he stared at me. “Something on your mind, Ellen?" Her eyes snapped to mine and she said, “No, not really." I patted Bear a few times and asked, “Should I accept that answer or keep trying to get you to tell me what's bugging you? It's up to you." Ellen's eyes remained locked on mine for a few moments, then she stood up and went to the kitchen. When she came back, she had a drink for each of us. “One drink lasted you all afternoon, Ellen. What's this one for?" More hesitation. I sipped my drink and waited. She finally spoke. “Ed, how many Amarans have you met?" I thought a moment. “Personally? Nine, I think. Indirectly? Maybe fifty." “How many were men?" “I think maybe a dozen." Ellen sipped her drink and sat down. “Then you've met about half of the men who came here with us. There were thirty men on the ship, not counting those who will return with the core." I looked at her for some moments as that ratio soaked in. “Only thirty men and two hundred and seventy women? Are you serious?" She nodded and took another sip. With a wry grin she said, “It sounds like one of those 'Amazons from Space' porn films already, doesn't it? But it's true." She had to have had a reason for finally telling me something like that after so many months together, so I waited for more. “You hate parties, ignore holidays, and can't stand being around children, Ed, yet you just came up with the idea of a project-personnel anniversary party. Gary and Alanah and I tried to figure out the why of it and came up with only one really reasonable explanation for your suggesting such a thing." I didn't say anything. I just patted Bear and nodded for her to continue. “You were surprised when I told you that Gary and Alanah hadn't been involved as more than friends. Would that make more sense to you if I told you they were like brother and sister? Closer than that, actually. It's the same with me, Ed, except that this ... defect ... has made Gary more protective of some of us. All of the Amarans who will be remaining on Earth are from the same genetic matrix. We aren't exactly clones of each other, but we're far too similar for purposes of procreation." “That fits. Does Linda know about this, too?” I tapped my watch. “Hey, you! Are you listening? If so,

say something." “I knew about it,” said Linda. “Don't bang on the watch, please." “Is there some reason you've waited to tell me about it?" “Did you need to know? Did it have anything to do with protecting Ellen or building factories?" “Oh, good points, ma'am. 'Need to know'. I always hated that term. How would knowing something like this have hindered me, Linda?" “It wasn't my decision to keep this information a secret, but since you asked, Ed, why do you think the ratio of women was so high?" “A bonus to the men who okayed the whole deal? No, just kidding. I wasn't one of those guys and I've got an Amaran guest. Gimme a minute." I looked at Ellen and considered the matter. “They're the only ones who can show us how to build our factories and our products, so they're already indispensable to the project. They can't go back to Amara and the only Amaran men on Earth are genetically incompatible, so if they want families they'll have to hook up with Earthies. That seems to leave us with two hundred and seventy women who look great, love sex, and were conditioned to get their biggest jollies when a man comes in them." Linda said, “Right so far, except maybe about the jollies thing, you lech." Ellen softly said, “He's right about that, too, Linda." Linda was silent for a moment, then she said, “I don't like that part one damned bit, but it does make sense when added to everything else." I continued, “Conditioning like that wouldn't be for simple recreational purposes, Linda. These women were intended to reproduce as often as possible. I'd bet that birth control pills or anything else that interfered with their hormonal harmony would make them just about deathly ill. If you could get one of them to violate conditioning in order to take birth control pills, that is." Linda asked, “What about that, Ellen? Yes or no?" In a softer voice than before, Ellen said, “Yes." “Oh, god-damn,” said Linda. “I don't want to hear anymore right now. I'll listen to the rest of this later, when my stomach is working right again." I asked, “Are you out of shape, Linda? You used to be able to order people into things knowing full well what might happen to them." “Those people knew what could happen when they signed on, Ed. You signed on with us knowing what could happen if the East Germans caught you. We didn't manufacture you for the job and give you no choice in the matter." “Point taken, ma'am. Something else, Linda ... Mothers contribute most of the genetic material to offspring, not fathers. The egg contains it all. A man's sperm only activates things and gets the egg rolling, so to speak." “Where did you hear that?" “Don't remember. Someplace on the Internet in a newsgroup." “Was it gospel or gossip?"

“I'd say gospel. A bunch of know-it-alls were trying to correct or upstage each other on the subject for a week or so. Something about an outfit claiming to be able to DNA-trace a person's maternal lineage to one of the original few Earth-mothers for a fat fee. My final take on it was that there were probably quite a few lines that died out when sons were born or daughters died, and back then death was pretty easy to come by. These guys had to be generalizing big-time and selling to the seriously vain, but everyone seemed to agree that humanity's genes are passed on by women, not by men." There was no answer for a couple of moments. “Linda?" Still no answer. “Linda, are you there?" Nothing. I was becoming concerned when she finally answered in flat tones. “Verified, Ed. Mothers pass on the majority of genetic structure." “Is this a problem, Linda? Our Amarans were never Amarans. They were destined to become Earth people before they left the drawing board." I grinned at Ellen and added, “The worst that could happen would be that they'll make lots more goodlooking smart people, right? How bad can that be?" Ellen smiled, then frowned and seemed thoughtful. She asked, “Linda, are you saying you see us as some kind of world-domination ploy?" Linda said, “Well, hell, lady! What would you call it? Do you have any idea what other kinds of conditioning you were given? Would you know if you carried some special kind of disease to Earth? Something that would wipe us out and leave the place for other Amarans to take over? Why would they tell you?" Ellen was becoming upset. I moved Bear to the arm of the couch and went to Ellen to put an arm around her. “Linda,” I said, “You're right. They wouldn't tell Ellen or the others a damned thing about it, so ranting at her serves no good purpose. Let her up." There was no answer for a moment, then Linda said in controlled tones, “Ellen, one more question. What happens to factory seconds on Amara? What happens to the people who can't make the grade? Did they tell you that?" Ellen was almost in tears. In a small voice she said, “They know which cells will be genetically viable before they're allowed further growth." Her expression and voice gained firmness as she added, “They don't wait until the cells become people, Linda! Is that what you're asking? Do they grow us and kill off the imperfect ones? No, they don't." Ellen rose from the chair abruptly and ran to her bedroom. The door slammed and I heard sobbing. “Great, Linda. First you make her feel like a broodmare and then you make her feel like a broodmare trapped in a plot to take over the Earth." “Well, what if she is, Ed? What if it is a plot to take over Earth?" “Then we were all fucked from day one, Linda. They could have just as easily whomped up a batch of women and slipped them in over the last fifty years. The last five hundred years. Hell, maybe they did. Who knows? What could we do about it? Hunt them down? Root them out? Kill mothers and daughters

with certain DNA patterns all over the world? Welcome back to the goddamned Dark Ages. All we need now is a new 'Malleus Maleficarum' to go by." Linda's agitated voice yelled, “A what? A mallus-what?" “A 'Malleus Maleficarum', Linda. That translates as 'Hammer of Witches'. It told churchmen how to hunt witches down and kill them. The last 'Malleus' was just a way to persecute women and steal land legally in the name of God. At least this one will have us killing women for scientific reasons, right?" Linda was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Are you making fun of me?" “No. All you have to do is show me how that won't happen." She rather coolly said, “I'm not advocating killing women, Ed." “If you pop this theory out there you might as well be kicking off the next real witch hunt. These women are stuck here with us, Linda. If they interbreed with us all they'll do is make better people, as far as we know. When I think about some of my neighbors and some of the people I've known here and there in various parts of the world I kinda wish it had already happened. I quite honestly don't see a cause for panic yet. Do you? Could be all they're doing is upgrading the human race a bit before it reaches the stars. Who the fuck knows?" Several moments passed before Linda said, “I'll get back to you later." “What are you going to do, Linda?" No answer. “Linda?" No answer. The trouble with these damned watches is you don't know when they hang up on you. At least they say ‘goodbye’ on a phone. Well, except maybe Linda... “Elkor?" “Yes, Ed." “Am I right? Are we being upgraded?" “I don't have that information yet." “Yet?" “I wasn't programmed with that information, Ed. I'm trying to extrapolate more data now, but it would so far seem that you are generally correct." I made a coffee and leaned on the kitchen counter. “Jesus, what a TV series this would make. We have gorgeous, sexy alien women, a plot to inject the human race with new DNA, starships, talking computers, and force fields. We have a big corporation trying to move into the neighborhood. We have greedy native bureaucrats passing laws to eliminate rival manufacturers of personal vehicles by banning the use of their products and their fuel. We even have halfwit racist groups planting bombs, and we may have a real, live witch hunt on our hands by tomorrow." Elkor asked, “Were you addressing me, Ed? Is a response required?" I sighed. “Oh, no, I was just musing out loud about the mystical, magical nature of humanity and the whole frigging universe, Elkor. That's all."

My watch giggled. “Linda doesn't giggle more than twice a year, so you must be Ellen. Want a coffee, Ellen? We're all in the kitchen. Join the party." She didn't answer. She just walked into the kitchen a few moments later, took her cup from the cabinet, and filled it. “Some party. All I see is you, Ed." I let my gaze travel from her ankles to her hair and said, “And all I see is you. And I'm damned glad to be able to see you. You're the gorgeous, sexy alien woman I mentioned earlier, you know." Ellen smiled and sipped her coffee, then said, “You said ‘women', Ed. Plural." “So I noticed the others aren't ugly. I didn't try to grab any." She nodded and smiled again, but the smile didn't last. “Linda's really upset, isn't she, Ed?" “It won't last, Ellen. It can't. Linda's one of the most pragmatic people I've ever known." “Will everybody hate us now?" I said, “Ellen, this is Earth, so don't personalize your situation too much. If you had 'Made in USA' stamped on your butt more than half the world would hate you for that alone. Earth people look for any kind of reason to hate other people. Color. Race. Religion. Nationality. Wealth. Poverty. It doesn't fucking matter, ma'am. Whateverthehell you are, there's a hate group for you and against you on good ol’ Earth. Don't worry about it. The worst you and the other ladies can do is improve the place a bit." “I hope certain people share your opinions, Ed." “Me, too, but if they don't it still won't matter a damn. They'll just move the Amarans, hubbies, boyfriends, kids, and all, to one place and throw up a guard perimeter. Those in charge of Earth want flitter factories. They may wind up isolating you ladies in that town, after all, but short of sending you back to Amara or killing you all, I'm fairly sure there will be only one eventual outcome." Linda said, “I'm back. I heard that, Ed. Care to elaborate?" “Okay. There's no point in saying anything to anyone. It would only create a panic that would get people killed and make the Amarans use some other method of introducing the new genetics. I don't think they'll just walk away from their investment, Linda. They could conceivably put us on hold for a few decades and work behind the scenes until a new, more cooperative generation is available." Linda sighed and said, “What other method would that be, Ed? People get their genes from their parents." “These are just my speculations, Linda. We can tailor viruses to carry a new genetic mix into lab rats. It would seem likely that the same system could be used on people. If this were truly an invasion of some sort, that would be the way to do it. A relatively harmless version of the flu or something like it would sweep the world. All children conceived after that would be affected." “Didn't I hear you say you didn't know much about genetics?" “I picked up a few things, most of which I've learned since Gary asked me if I knew anything about genetics. Where did you run off to?" Linda said, “I talked to some people and got some quick answers. Nothing we hadn't already figured out and a whole bunch of people saying 'no comment', which makes me think that this was all quietly

part of the original deal." “Figures. I almost wish they'd used a virus." “Can we be sure they didn't?" “Sure. Check newborns for Amaran DNA strings. You probably won't find any, though. I think how we deal with this and handle the women is probably an important part of the project." Ellen had been sipping her coffee and listening. Now she spoke. “Yes. It has to be. Gary and I and all the others spent five years preparing for this mission. They wouldn't waste all that training by sending us somewhere we could be killed, would they?" Linda gave a nasty laugh and said, “Tell her about the Vietnam War, Ed." Ellen looked at me. I shook my head. “Some other time. She has a point, Ellen. To you, three hundred people and fifteen hundred years of training are involved. To those who sent you, perhaps just three hundred expendable units. I don't know enough to guess about that, but I can tell you that some small nations on Earth waste people in larger numbers than that routinely." Ellen looked none too pleased with that line of thinking. Linda said nothing for quite a while, but I knew she was still listening because she bumped something that made a ‘tink’ noise in the background. “Linda,” I said, “What if Ellen and company were treated as refugees? Not officially, of course, but what if some of their story was released to the tabloids? They were created and sent here without a choice. Until I see evidence to the contrary, I'm inclined to think of them as unwitting pawns. Victims. Draftees, just like most of the guys I knew in the Army." Linda's voice took on a threatening tone. “Nobody in any of my operations has ever told the press a goddamned thing, Ed. It just isn't done, and you know that." “Crap. We told them what we wanted them to hear, ma'am. All the time. Just about daily, as I remember it. What's different about this?" “Just don't even think about it, Ed." I looked at Ellen and smiled. “Now I don't have to think about it. She will." Ellen seemed lost in somber thought as she left the kitchen. I watched her go from my spot by the pot. As I refilled my mug she called me from the living room. “Be right there,” I said. She was sitting on the sofa chair, holding her cup in both hands as she rested her elbows on her knees. The position made the muscles of her legs stand out interestingly, but I said nothing about that due to her apparent mood. I sat on the couch and said, “What's up?" After a couple of moments of staring into her cup, Ellen said, “I talked to Elkor the other day, Ed. I wanted to know why I wasn't pregnant yet. I wanted to know if one of us had a problem. He told me about your vasectomy. Why didn't you?" “You never mentioned birth control, so I thought you were doing your own thing about it. Later I thought that Linda had probably told you. I'd have told you if the subject had ever come up."

She nodded. “Something inside me needs to make babies, Ed. I know that's just programming to you, but to me it's a very real need." When I didn't say anything, she looked up at me. “Elkor could make you whole again, Ed." I thought about how best to express my opinion of that idea and settled for the polite response. “No, thank you. I'm not incomplete or broken, Ellen. I made a choice a long time ago and I haven't changed my mind yet. Kids are for other people." Ellen's eyes seemed to be searching her coffee cup for something. “You wouldn't consider it, even to keep us together, Ed?" I searched for a way to say it that wouldn't hurt and found no such way. “No, Ellen. Especially not for that reason. I wanted you. Nothing else. Just you. I don't want to devote my remaining years to raising a kid, even if it means finding someone else to play with." Ellen nodded. It was a quick, 'that was what I expected' nod. She didn't look at me as she put her coffee down, got up, and hurried to her room. Aw, hell. I sat on the couch for a few minutes with Bear, then went out to sit on the hood of my Malibu, lean back against the glass, and stare at the sky for a while. Chapter Twenty-One When I leaned to reach my coffee mug, a bullet hit the top of the windshield near my head. As the windshield starred and collapsed under me, I didn't have to guess what had happened. I'd heard the sound of bullets striking things before and the sound of the shot came only about a second behind the impact. I slid down and off the Malibu on the driver's side and spoke to my watch. “Elkor? Where's the shooter?" Elkor said, “One hundred and seventy-one yards northwest of you, in a tree. I've already sent a drone." Ellen came running out, but I waved her back. “I'm okay! Get back inside!" She didn't, of course. She stood staring at me and my situation. A leaf of some sort landed flat against the house's protective field near her face and slid to the ground. I felt kind of silly as I realized that I'd forgotten about the field. Another round spanged off the Malibu's fender near me, reminding me that I wasn't within the boundaries of the house's field. “Elkor, can you extend the house field to cover me?" “It's a fixed-diameter field, Ed. If you had parked closer..." “Never mind, Elkor." I couldn't have parked closer at the time. They'd been unloading the field hardware when I got home, so I'd pulled in beside the truck. I realized that I hadn't used my car for several days. I wasn't betting that the guy was using a bolt-action rifle when I lunged for the cover of the field. Because he'd already missed me twice, I was betting that he wasn't used to shooting at moving targets.

Another round skipped off the driveway behind me as I got myself inside the field boundary. “Can you give me control of the drone from here, Elkor?" “What are you going to do, Ed?" “I'm gonna knock his ass out of that tree. What did you think I'd do with it?" “He's wearing a climbing belt, Ed. It won't let him fall." “He'll fall, Elkor. One way or other, he'll fall. The sunuvabitch will jump to get away from me." “I can't let you do that, Ed. He's moving now. He's climbing down. The drone will watch him and I'll tell the police where to find him." “Get another drone out there, Elkor. If he sees this one, he may shoot at it. Can you display on this outside field?" “I'll send the drone first." I watched the shining little ball streak away from the house like a missile. The drones were about nine inches in diameter and operated on power broadcast to them by the field generator. The field in front of me became a reflection of what the first drone was seeing, and what it was seeing was its own doom. The guy seemed to be aiming right at me from a distance of maybe twenty feet, which meant he was about to knock down a drone. Elkor jinked the drone, but the guy anticipated the move and led the drone just enough. There was a brief flash from the rifle's muzzle before the picture disappeared. “Ed, he's still in the trees north of the street, but he's coming this way." I went into the house and got my guns. The .357 I stuck in my belt and the .22 I carried in my hand as I crawled out the back door. Ellen had followed me inside and was watching me from the living room. She asked, “What are you going to do?" “Well, first I'll try not to be seen as I go out, and you could help by not staring at me while I do it. He's moving now. That means he's heading for a car if he isn't setting up another shot." “Elkor can follow him. Don't go out there." Elkor can't follow him where he may be going. I really hate being shot at. I didn't answer her as I slipped behind the shed and then over the cyclone fence into the neighbor's yard. “Elkor, where is he now?" “He's almost to the edge of the trees along Mallard. He's out of the trees and appears to be running for an automobile. There's someone in the automobile. He just opened the passenger door..." I was hunkered by the cinderblock wall at the end of the neighbor's property where it met the sidewalk along Northcliffe when I said, “Enough, Elkor. What color is the car? What make?" “They're in an older model white, two-door Dodge sedan. The man who shot at you is in the passenger's seat holding the rifle." “Mallard ends one block west. If they go east, they'll have to follow winding little back streets to Deltona. They'll have to get on Northcliffe to go anywhere fast. Let me know which way they go." I heard rubber screaming and a big V-8 engine howling on the other side of the trees. The racket headed west. I ran to the end of the block and arrived just as the white Dodge Charger screamed around the

corner of Mallard and Geranium. We saw each other at about the same time. There was nothing substantial to use as cover, so, holding the .22 behind me, I stood there and waved to the white Dodge, gave them a big smile, then gave them the finger. There was a bit of commotion on the passenger side as the shooter tried to get himself and his big rifle up and out the window to aim at me. My first two shots from the .22 were aimed at the driver. I didn't know if I'd hit him or not and didn't really care. Both of them ducked and I ran to flatten in a drainage ditch. The car suddenly surged forward across all four lanes of Northcliffe and skidded to a halt on the other side of the intersection. I could hear the driver screaming, “Shoot him! Shoot him!” as the sniper tried to bring his rifle to bear on me. From this angle my ditch wasn't any protection. They weren't working well together. The driver must have thought it would help to put the sniper on my side of the car. I got up and began walking toward the car as the driver frantically cut the wheels to turn in my direction. The sniper was screaming directions at him and trying to hang on and stay with the car. I fired once at the driver again. The shot served to make him understeer as he ducked. He dropped the right front wheel into the drainage ditch and a driveway culvert abruptly halted that wheel. Hitting the concrete culvert jarred the shooter and the rifle out of the car window and onto the ground. I heard a loud snap as he landed. He shook his head to clear it, saw me approaching from the corner, and tried to bring the rifle up. His left arm wasn't working right and I was only about sixty feet away when he sat down and tried to aim the rifle at me across his knees. My first round hit his right shoulder near where it met his neck, round two hit his left knee, and round three snapped into his right wrist and forearm. The guy went rigid with shock, then screamed. The driver of the car sat unnaturally still until I was only a few feet from the shooter. Predictably, his hand came up with a semi-auto pistol and he stretched across the passenger seat to aim it at me through the passenger-side window. I put two rounds through that window and into his upper chest before he could pull the trigger. He seemed absolutely shocked at this turn of events and tried to look down to see his wounds. When he looked up at me again his face was contorted as he tried again to aim at me. I put my last round in his face and switched the .22 to my left hand so I could pull the .357 out of my belt. The guy with the rifle either wasn't a quitter or he was sure that I intended to kill him. Either way, he was struggling against pain and body parts that weren't working right to aim that godzilla rifle at me again. I stepped over quickly and swatted him in the head with the .357, then took the rifle out of his hands. I heard sirens as I picked up his rifle. It was a Weatherby Mark V with one of those big scopes on top. I was suitably impressed. The damned things sold for around eight hundred bucks the last time I saw one in the mid-eighties. This one was a .22-250 caliber. There'd be damned little left of a bullet from that gun if it hit anything more solid than flesh. If it hit bone it would pretty much disintegrate on impact. Nasty. When the cops arrived they found me standing over the sniper with my empty .22. I'd put my .357 back in my belt and let the rifle fall a few feet from the sniper as we waited for them. He seemed to think

that was an odd thing to do. When he looked at the rifle I invited him to go for it. He didn't. An hour or so later, Linda was in my face in an office she'd commandeered for the purpose of screaming at me more or less privately. “You had a goddamned stunner, Ed. Why didn't you use it?" “Does it work through windshields? Will it do anything at eighty feet?" She didn't know, but she wouldn't admit it. Instead, she switched subjects. “Why the hell did you leave the house at all? Why didn't you let Elkor track them for the cops?" “Go look where his bullets hit my car. Hold that big-assed rifle he used. Think about what his first round could have done if he'd hit me. Think about how your own forehead would look through that scope and then ask me that again." Linda glared at me for some seconds, then marched out of the room. She said something to someone at one of the desks and headed for the front door at a march. People got out of her way quickly and without comment. Gary came over to me and told me we could leave. We stopped to pick up my .22 at somebody's desk and my personal effects at somebody else's desk, then headed for the door. The reflection of the room showed me that everyone was staring at us. I stopped and looked more closely at the reflected faces. Gary looked out the doors, then back at me, and asked, “What's wrong, Ed?" “Pretend to see something in the parking lot and check out the reflection in the glass instead. I'd say my days of quiet anonymity are over in Spring Hill." After a moment, Gary said, “I think you may be right." Neither Linda nor Gary had told me that Ellen had spent the time I'd been at the station packing her stuff. She was finished when we arrived at the house. I looked at her as we entered, but she refused to acknowledge me and picked up two of her bags to carry them to the car. Gary and I followed her with the other bags and installed them in the back seat and trunk as Ellen opened the car door and got in. Whether she left the door open to allow a breeze through the car or to invite me to say something to her before she left, I don't know. I couldn't think of anything to say that would make her feel any better, so I said nothing until Gary was in the driver's seat. All I said was, “Is this the kind of goodbye you want, Ellen? Our needs don't match. It isn't your fault or mine. It's just who and what we are." Ellen didn't look up from the dashboard. Gary said, “You promised me a fishing trip, Ed. Later, okay?" I hadn't promised him a damned thing that I could remember, but it didn't sound like a bad idea, and he obviously didn't want me to think he was taking a side in the matter by driving her, so I went along with it. “Sure. Holler when ready. Bring Ellen if she wants to come along." “Will do,” he said. We shook hands and he started the car. As they began backing out of the driveway Ellen looked up and stared at me briefly, then said something to Gary. The car stopped and Ellen got out. She walked up to me and gazed at me for a moment before embracing me and kissing me as heartily as I've ever been kissed.

“You remember my face,” she said. “My body. This last kiss. You remember me, Ed, and I hope you hurt inside every time you do the way I'm hurting now. All I wanted is what every woman wants. My mistake was wanting it with you." I did as she said. I kept my mouth shut and tried to memorize her as she stood there and she allowed me to do so for a few moments before turning without another word and marching to the car. I waved at Gary and tapped my watch. He nodded understanding as Ellen got in and closed the door. A few moments later they were gone. When I called a friend at a local parts yard, he gave me a fair price on a replacement windshield and said that for an extra thirty bucks he'd send a couple of guys over to take care of it in my driveway. I agreed. I sat on the couch with a beer and a Bear. He knew what packed bags had meant and he was in need of consolation. Correction: we were in need of consolation. I wasn't very happy at that moment, either. “Hey, Elkor. You by the channel?" “By the what?" “Never mind. Old CB radio jargon for 'are you listening'? I just wondered where they're going to put Ellen." “I'm not at liberty to say." I swilled my beer and squashed the can, then tossed it into the trash can by the computer desk across the room. I leaned my head back on the couch and sat silently staring at the ceiling and patting Bear for a few moments. “Never, ever say that to me again, Elkor. I'll even add 'please', but I mean it. I'll stop talking to you except as absolutely necessary if you ever say it again." “But..." “No. Never. You can say 'please ask Linda', but don't give me the 'not at liberty' crap. I've heard it too often in my life, and almost always about the wrong damned things from the wrong damned stuffedshirt people." “Are there any other phrases you'd prefer not to hear?" “Oh, yes. Definitely. I'll let you know as I think of them. Have you made contact with porpoises yet?" Elkor's voice was a conversational male voice, not a flat or tinny monotone like they used to use in the movies. It had always been well modulated and very normal-sounding, but at that moment I seemed to detect a slight change. “Yes, Ed. I've been in contact with a pod that seems to have been trying to figure out what the ball in the sky is. When I told them..." “You told them? You mean you really talk with them?" “Yes, Ed. When I told them that the ball was actually a ship and that I was a part of that ship they were very excited." “You sound a little excited yourself, Elkor." “I do? I'm not sure that's possible, Ed." “That's okay. I am. How did you contact the dolphins?"

“They aren't actually dolphins. Dolphins are..." “I know what dolphins are, but people use both names for porpoises. No sweat, go ahead with your story." Elkor flashed the wall and displayed a drone that morphed from an ellipsoid into a ball. Two layers of something were added to the ball on display as Elkor described how he padded the ball without losing good visibility or sound quality. He then showed the ball floating on the surface and the porpoises using it in some kind of game that involved pushing it around and tossing it to each other. Elkor said, “This is how I met them. Once I was able to make some sense of what they were saying, I spoke to them through the ball. They were very leery of me at first, just as Bear was, but I persisted." Could a computer feel pride? It certainly sounded that way. “I'll bet they were leery. Good going, Elkor. What do porpoises talk about?" “Food, mostly. Finding it, catching it, and not becoming it. Those are their words, by the way. They also wonder about their environment and have a kind of ancestor-based mythology that hinges on one female long ago." I laughed. “The great Earth-mother. Or what? Water-mother?" “That's close. They believe the creator of Earth was a female porpoise who still swims among them in the person of every female porpoise." “A mother goddess and reflections of her. That's very similar to several human religions, so far." “Indeed so. Do you believe in such things, Ed?" “Religions require too much blind faith to suit me. If there's a goddess and she wants to meet me someday, then so be it. If not, well, that's okay, too." “I know who created me, Ed. I can't figure out who created them, though, or if they were, indeed, specifically created, as they seem to believe." “Don't sweat it. Your creators haven't figured that out yet, either. Anyone who claims to know the mind of any god is full of shit, Elkor, and that's gospel. They only know what they want to believe for whatever reasons." My phone rang. It was Sharon, asking about Ellen and all the activity on Northcliffe that she'd just heard about. I told her that they'd caught a sniper and that everybody was fine and let it go at that. No sooner was Sharon off the phone than my watch beeped. I said, “Yes? ’tis me, of course. Speak, Oh Magic Wristwatch." Linda said, “Hey, there, Dragonfly. Gary and Ellen just arrived. I just called to see how you were getting along." “I'm down a bit, but I guess I'm fine enough unless telling you a tale of deep sadness and woe will get you to come over here and comfort me properly." She laughed. “Save it for Thursday. Maybe I'll comfort you or maybe I'll just send you someplace really hairy to get your mind off her." “I can always count on you to help me out somehow, right?" “Sure. How would you like to go to northeastern Iraq for a couple of weeks? All expenses paid. We'll even spring for the ammo."

“No, thanks, lady. I'll sit here and pine away to nothing before I go over there again. Besides, I don't think they've lifted my sentence yet." “They haven't. I really was going to mention that and advise caution, you know. Maybe I can find somewhere else, then." “I might be able to find some consolation if I wrapped myself around your legs like a wet towel and spent a few hours marveling at your capacity for pleasure, ma'am. Have you considered that possibility?" “Today in particular? Only a few times. We should wait a decent interval, though. You can decide what that would be and let me know." “Well, let me just check my fancy watch's calendar here. Hmm ... Thursday looks good." “Uh, huh. We'll see. Is there anything else?" I laughed. “You called me, lady. Do you have anything else?" “Just checking. I'm here if you need me, Dragonfly. See ya." “Thanks, Fearless Leader. See ya." Linda had undoubtedly heard my exchange with Elkor, yet she'd volunteered no information about Ellen. She had also addressed me only as Dragonfly immediately and throughout the conversation, meaning that she was telling me not to get too relaxed and comfortable in my broken-hearted misery. My reference to my fancy watch told her that I understood not to say anything meaningful for the moment, and Linda knew how I really felt about messing around while I was working under her. That was just filler banter for anyone else who might be listening. Linda was on to something or thought she might be. She had confirmed that she could and would make it to our almost-routine Thursday visit to the beach and put me on general alert in the meantime, which meant that I should make no plans that couldn't be broken. The windshield guys arrived and I went out to watch them work. One of the guys remarked that the damage looked like a bullet hole and I said, “Yeah, that's what the cops said, too." The other guy wanted to look for the bullet. I let him root around as the other guy vacuumed the dash and seats. No bullet was found and less than twenty minutes later there was a new windshield on my Malibu. As I walked back into the house, Elkor asked, “Shall I continue, or would you rather I put my porpoise findings into your pad?" “Sure. The pad, too, Elkor, but boil it down for me now, will you? Give me the highlights of your time with them. I've always had an interest in them." “They seem to concern themselves with food, safety, pleasures, reproductive activities, and personal and group interaction." “Damn. When you boil something down, you don't screw around, do you? So far they sound a lot like people, but it could be that things like that are all that any life forms really think about if they can think at all." “It would seem so." “You don't seem too happy to hear it, Elkor. Does it take some of the fascination out of studying them?" “It would seem to imply that there is little unique about them or—in an expanded view—any life form,

sentient or not." “Only in that respect, I think. How they go about things can be entertaining, so I'd proceed on the assumption that there's more to be known. Elkor, how high will Stephanie fly?" “My calculations indicate a maximum altitude of 824 miles." “Calculations? Nobody's ever tried it?" “There has been no reason to do so." I got off the couch and grabbed my coffee mug. “Does that mean she can achieve an orbit, Elkor, or does it just mean she can hold herself off the ground?" “She can't reach orbital velocity. At that height, she wouldn't be able to remain in place over a location on the surface, either. You'd return to the surface well to the west of your starting point." “Thought so. Can I talk to Stephanie through the watch?" “One moment. You can now, Ed." “Thanks, Elkor. Linda?" “I'm here, Ed." “Wanna ride along? I'm taking Stephanie for a hard run." “Give me fifteen to clear the decks. I can spare a couple of hours." “Ah, ha. Just like all the others. A fancy car makes you forget all about waiting for Thursdays. Stephanie?" “Yes, Ed." “Linda will approach you shortly. Let her aboard, then meet me at the trailer, please. We're going to see how high you can fly." “Yes, Ed." Chapter Twenty-Two I packed a cooler with snackies and drinks, then grabbed my binoculars, my big sleeping bag, and a couple of pillows. Bear wasn't happy and said so. Elkor said, “Bear is upset because you seem to be putting bags by the door." “Figured that. I'm taking him along. Can you tell him that?" “I don't know. I'll try." Bear heard Elkor's efforts coming from the watch. His ears went back, then came up again. He looked at the stuff by the door, sat down, and sounded off. “He doesn't seem convinced, Ed." “Tough. I'll put this stuff in the car and come back for him." More sounds came from the watch. Bear remained obviously skeptical. I patted him and told him to stand by, then carted the stuff to the car.

When he saw me putting his travel kit together he went to sit by his carrier. When I unlatched the door he quickly slipped into the carrier and turned around. I patted him and closed the door, then carried everything to the car. As we approached, the trailer door opened and the guard stepped out onto the small wooden porch. He'd never seen my Malibu, so until I pulled up in the parking area behind the trailer he wore his 'unenthusiastic-about-visitors' face. When I stepped out of the car, he recognized me and smiled. “Hey, Ed. Where'd you get this relic?" “Everybody asks me something like that, Bill. I never tell them ‘cause I don't want them to rush right out and get one of their own. That would ruin the uniqueness, don't you think?" Bear heard the guard's voice and yelled. The guard looked in the window and grinningly said, “Hey, Bear! Howzitgoin', little guy?" Bill turned to me and offered to help, but I told him we could wait until Linda arrived. I lifted Bear's carrier out of the car to take it into the trailer. Ten minutes or so later I felt a presence outside and said, “She's here." Bill looked at me oddly and rose to look out a window. His eyes widened briefly and he nodded to me with a questioning expression. “Without lights or noise, how'd you know?" “Just did, Bill. Just did. Don't you feel anything around a flitter when the engine is running?" He looked a little puzzled as he said, “No, I don't think so." I didn't tell him that what I'd felt was Linda, not the flitter. I'd always been aware of such things to one degree or other. My first wife had thought it was a spooky little talent, but it had always been a very useful little talent when people were nearby in some parts of the world. We went out to transfer stuff from my car to Stephanie. Linda had already stepped down from the flitter and started toward the trailer. She swatted at a bug and turned the move into a wave as she saw us coming. She looked a bit surprised to see Bear and more than a little surprised to see the sleeping bag and pillows, but she didn't appear to want to say anything in front of Bill. Bill saw all the stuff and said, “Cool. My girlfriend and I used to go up on the roof and have picnics. That was back in Denver. She knew all the names of all the constellations and used to get excited when she saw shooting stars." Once we were loaded he took a moment to put a finger into the cat carrier and rub Bear's cheek, then he told us to have fun and went back into the trailer. Linda asked me, “Is stargazing all you had in mind, Ed?" “No. I thought we might talk a bit, too, ma'am." “And..?" “And nothing. No other plans. Saddle up if you're coming." Linda was wearing walking shorts, a t-shirt, and a windbreaker. As she lifted her leg to step aboard Stephanie I seemed unable to take my eyes off her legs. Once she was aboard, she turned to say something and saw me gazing at her legs. For a moment she seemed slightly disconcerted, but she stabilized quickly.

“Are you sure you didn't have any other plans, Ed?" I stepped aboard with a grin and said, “I was pretty sure a minute ago, but now you're giving me ideas. Hope you don't mind." She shook her head with a small smile and chose a seat. I put Bear's carrier in a seat and thought about what I was doing. “Stephanie,” I said, “Bear is not allowed to leave the flitter unless he's in my arms or inside his carrier. I figure if you can keep bugs out you can keep cats in. Am I right about that?" “Yes, Ed. I've adjusted the field accordingly. Bear will not be able to get off me without your assistance." “Thanks, ma'am. How about heading us toward the middle of the gulf at about three hundred?" “Is that a valid command or a request for advice?" “It was a polite way of telling you to get us underway. Do I have to phrase things as commands, or can you interpret to some degree?" Stephanie's candor surprised me as we began moving. “I can interpret to some degree, Ed, but don't be surprised if I need confirmation occasionally. When I was a redundant environmental control system I had very little interaction with people." I grinned. “Wow. A career girl. How were you chosen to be installed in my flitter, Stephie?" “My previous occupation was no longer necessary when the ninth inner hull was removed for remanufacturing. Elkor reprogrammed me and installed me aboard this prototype." “Did you refer to yourself as 'me' and 'I' before being installed in my flitter, or was that something Elkor added?" “Elkor added several new subroutines to make interacting with me more comfortable for you. He mentioned that you don't care for stilted speech patterns, for instance, so he programmed me to use contractions of some words." “Elkor's a pretty smart guy. Do you like your new job, Steph?" “I don't know how to answer that question, Ed. If I weren't doing this I'd be doing something else." Linda chuckled. “Stephanie, Ed just wants to think you're happy with him. He's like that with women." Stephanie didn't answer Linda immediately and Linda looked at me. “Did you tell her not to talk to anyone but you, Ed?" “No, ma'am. Swear." Stephanie said, “No, he did not. I was unable to compose a response to your statement, Linda." Linda stared at me for a moment. “She called me by name, Ed!" Steph asked, “Would you rather that I didn't?" “No! No, that's fine, Stephanie. I was just startled, that's all. You've never called me by name before." “I've had no occasion to do so before." I laughed and said, “I'm gonna like Stephanie. I can tell already. It will be like having a thoroughly logical woman around."

Linda mock-glowered at me. “Do you think I've been in command positions all these years because I'm illogical, Ed?" “Oh, no, ma'am! Not a chance! Never while on duty, anyway." I let Bear out of his carrier as I spoke. He took a very cautious look around and then jumped up into my lap, where he looked into my face and said something. I patted him and said, “It's okay, Bear. We're just riding around." Stephanie said, “Yahh." It was delivered in what seemed essentially the same tone I'd used, but it had a much more profound effect on Bear. His ears went back, then up again as he focused on Steph's command console. “Yahh-hhh,” he said. “Yaaahhhh,” said Steph. Bear looked to me for confirmation. “What did you say to him, Steph?" “I told him that we were just riding around, Ed. I translated as closely as I could, according to what Elkor provided me. Bear sounded a little insecure." “Good enough, Steph. Thanks." I looked at Bear's questioning little face and said, “No problem, Bear. Everything's fine." He heard my tone and began to relax, again focusing on the console. Linda shook her head in apparent disbelief and said, “You know, sometimes all of this is just too goddamned amazing, Ed. Where are we going?" “Nowhere in particular, Linda. Just up. I wanted to get out and do something this evening. Elkor said Steph can take us about eight hundred miles up. Wanna find out exactly how high she can go?" Linda's eyes opened a bit wider at that. “Eight hundred miles? That's space, Ed! You're talking about taking us into space, for chrissakes!" I looked down at Bear and said, “That's why she gets the big bucks, kid. She's real quick to figure things out." Bear made no reply because Linda distracted him by standing up quickly. She looked down at me and said, “I don't know about this, Ed. Jesus. Space?" “Ask Steph what she thinks of the idea while I break out some beer." I opened the cooler and gained Bear's immediate attention when he recognized a package of sliced beef. Linda began asking Stephie lots of questions while I tore Bear a chunk of lunchmeat and pulled two bottles of beer out of the ice. When I turned around Linda was still grilling Steph. “Hey, Steph,” I said, “Can we get up there and back safely?" “Yes, Ed." “Kewl. Have a beer, Linda. Wanna go or not? I can try it some other time." Linda was still looking rather stunned until I pressed the cold beer on her bare legs. She screeched and grabbed it. “How old are you, Linda? I'm fifty. I want 'Been There & Dunnit' or something very like that on my

headstone. Steph says it's safe enough and we've got Bear to protect us from gremlins." Linda gathered herself and snapped open her beer with a sharp twist. She took a sip, looked around the flitter and at me, and said, “Let's go." “Going up. Steph, take us to maximum altitude, please." “At what speed, Ed?" “Can you make the trip up last an hour or less?" “Yes, Ed. Can you be more specific?" “What happens if I say 'no', Steph?" “We would arrive in one hour, since it was the only stated time reference in your command, Ed." Linda said, “You can actually do that, Stephanie? I mean, you can go straight up at over eight hundred miles an hour?" “Yes, Linda." Linda muttered, “Good lord,” and sat down. She took a long sip of beer and looked at me. “We're using this thing as a toy, Ed. Something just doesn't seem quite right about that." “Figure it out on the way, Linda. Stephie, take us up, please, and let us know when we're as high as you can manage. Should we sit down for this?" “No, I'm accelerating gently, Ed." I tried to look into the inky blackness around us. “Can't tell a damned thing, yet. Turn off the interior lights, Steph." Linda's face was a mask of horror just before the lights went out. I grinned. It's always fun to spook the boss a little, but I wasn't going to embarrass her by asking if she was all right. I still couldn't see much outside the flitter until I looked to the southeast through the patchy clouds. There was Tampa/St.Pete and a strip of light that ran north from it that had to be US-19. Somewhat to the west of us we could see other tiny lights moving on the water. “Steph, give us five percent light so Linda can find the cooler and I can set up Bear's box. Can you field-anchor things within the cargo area?" “Yes, Ed." “Good deal. We don't want anything to be able to slide around back there, especially Bear's litterbox. How you doin', Linda?" I could see her in the dim light. She was sitting rigidly, grasping the seat beside her far too tightly with one hand and squeezing the beer bottle with the other as she looked toward Tampa. Her one word reply came too quickly and hoarsely. “Fine." “You don't look fine. You don't sound fine, either." “I'm fine, Ed." “Do that beer and tell me that again in a few minutes. Maybe I'll believe you." Linda glared at me. “I said I'm fine, goddamnit! Drop it." “Woo. Yes, ma'am. Don't fire me. Don't hit me. I'll shut up now, ma'am."

After a moment Linda snickered. “I guess I was a little tense, wasn't I?" “You wuz stiff as a pine board, ma'am. How's your beer?" “Cold. Never mind my beer. How's Bear? Where's Bear?" I looked around and spotted him in the pilot's seat and said, “He's driving." Bear was curled up in the seat, positioned so that he could see both of us and most of the flitter's deck. He could also see over the side, which he hadn't been able to do while standing in the middle of the deck. He seemed altogether unfazed as he took a moment to wash a spot on his shoulder. I said, “There you go, Linda. An example of unruffled calm." “He doesn't know what we're doing, Ed. He probably thinks he's in a car." I asked, “Does he, Steph? Can you find out?" “I can try." She said something and Bear answered. She said something else and he answered her again, then Stephie addressed us. “Bear knows we aren't on the ground. He used his sound for birds to describe us." “Holy shit,” muttered Linda. “Really? Bear knows we're flying?" “Yes, Linda." I was almost as surprised as Linda. We knew from photos and plane rides what towns and roads looked like at night, so we could tell by looking that we were well into the sky. I wondered how Bear could know, but Stephie couldn't tell me that. As the initial excitement of the journey quelled slightly, Linda asked me if I still wanted to know where Ellen was headed. “No. She knows how to reach me if she wants to talk." “I heard her little speech by the car, Ed. I saw her when she arrived at the ship. I think she was really hurting. Wasn't there any other way you could have handled it? Did you have to be so quick to shoot her down?" I sighed. “Fact: I can't have kids and don't want them. Not at all. How do we get around that little obstacle, Linda? Pretend it isn't so? Should I have told her I'd think about it and get back to her? Once the subject had come up it wasn't going to go away quietly or pleasantly. Better to be done with it and let us get on with our lives." “I thought you had some feelings for her, Ed." “Sure. Not love, but a lot of like. You don't bullshit the people you like or love, Linda. It screws things up when they find out the truth. Also, this way the breakup is my fault, not hers, no matter what she finds out later." Linda had been sipping her beer. She lowered it and looked at me sharply. “Finds out what, Ed?" “She's one of eight defectives, Linda. Is that defect transmissible? If it is, I don't expect she's going to be having any kids of her own. The Amarans would have seen to that somehow. As smart as she is, I'm very surprised she hasn't considered that already, but I suppose people can be a little blind about things they want badly enough."

“Oh, my God ... How do you think she'd handle something like that?" “No idea. I'll leave that to her, Gary, and Elkor. I don't even want to be in the same zip code when she figures it out. Elkor? Are you listening?" “Yes, Ed. I always listen unless specifically told not to. It's part of my job." “If I told you not to, would you really not listen? No, never mind. The issue is Ellen at the moment. Can she have children?" “I can't say, Ed. That is confidential information." “Don't give me that shit. You told her I'd been fixed. Now tell me if she can have kids. Fair is fair, Elkor." “Your vasectomy was in the common pool of knowledge. Her viability is not." Linda asked, “Can you tell me, Elkor?" “No, Linda. She is no longer within your sphere of command." “Elkor,” I said, “If Ellen were unable to have kids, would you be able to provide a course of treatment that would help her?" “Yes, Ed. Would you like more information about that?" “Not yet, but I would like to know why she'd be programmed to want kids if she couldn't have them." “In such a case she wouldn't have been programmed that way, Ed, but she was designed as an integral part of her group as well as the project. Ellen could easily have reprogrammed herself so that her goals resembled the goals of the group." Linda said, “It would work out the same. She'll be heartbroken." I said, “That's why I made such a point of telling her I wanted her for herself, Linda. She asked if I wanted to be made 'whole' again. She's the one who will feel thoroughly incomplete and worse than that if I'm right. There was no easy way to tell her what I suspected, and I doubt that she'd have believed me." Linda looked none too happy with me at that moment. “So you dumped her rather than deal with it?" “Sure did. Not my problem, ma'am. Sorry if that seems callous, but I've already had a few episodes with incomplete and defective women in my life. Ellen is a gorgeous blonde and all that, but she has some huge hurdles in her near future. By then she'll have paired off with another guy, too, which is how she'll discover her problem. I don't expect to see her or hear from her again for a year or so. Maybe longer. Maybe never." Linda sat there gazing at me for some time with what appeared to me to be very mixed emotions. I finished my beer and bagged the empty, then got another from the cooler and stood looking at the world beyond the flitter. I asked, “How high are we now, Stephie?" “One hundred and seventeen miles, Ed. Gradual acceleration will cease at five hundred and nine miles and we'll begin decelerating uniformly in order to arrive at maximum altitude one half hour later." “I do love to listen to your voice, Steph. Thanks." Linda waved her bottle at me upside down. I took it and got her another beer, and when I handed it to

her she patted the seat next to her, so I sat there. “Sorry if you were hoping for a different answer, Linda, but I dumped her plain and simple. I didn't ask or tell her to come back later. I couldn't, without telling her why I thought she might. I have to assume she's gone forever and either be pleasantly surprised later if she shows up or undisappointed if she doesn't." “You won't miss her?" “I didn't say that. I said I didn't love her, and that's true, but there won't be a day or a night for a long time that I don't remember her the way I remember our time together before I went to Africa and joined up with Solutions." Linda said softly, “That was almost thirty years ago, Ed. Do you think you remember things the way they really were?" I laughed. “Hell, no. I only kept the good stuff. Tossed all the bad. All of your faults have been forgotten since 1985 or so." Linda looked incredulously at me. “My what?! You, of all people, thought I had faults?!" “Couldn't say. Told you, I forgot them all. Probably should have written them down or something, though. Never know when you'll need stuff like that." “Just watch it, mister. I'll swat you so hard your fleas will desert you." Stephanie immediately said, “I detect no fleas or other such parasites on anyone aboard, Linda. Please recheck your data." I sat up straight and proudly stated, “My Stephie knows her stuff, ma'am. Your sensors may be due for recalibration. Right, Steph?" “It would appear so, Ed." Linda's expression was priceless. I laughed so hard I almost fell off the seat. Her expression turned grim as she watched me. “You could be in line for some recalibrating yourself, Ed. For instance, are you familiar enough with all the changes in Agency regulations and policies since 1985 to pass a three-hour test that was waived for expedience in your case?" I sat up and quickly asked, “Oh, how can I earn your forgiveness, miLady?" Linda gave me one of those 'that's much better' smiles and said, “Well, first you can straighten 'your Stephie' out about my sensors." “Done. Stephie, the fleas were metaphoric ones. Do you know what that means?" “Yes, Ed. It means Linda was only inferring that you had fleas, which would also appear to mean that she was insulting you. Is that interpretation correct?" “Yes, Stephie, it is." Stephie was quiet for a moment, then she said, “Insults are often a precursor to violence. Linda, if you appear to become violent I'll have to restrain you." Linda's mouth fell open and she started to rise from her seat, her beer-bottle hand pointing at the console.

“You'll what? Why, you tin-plated..." Whatever else she intended to say was interrupted as Stephanie's field rather abruptly pulled her back into her seat and held her there. The profound shock on Linda's face was too much for me and I started laughing again. Steph said, “I don't understand the humor of this situation, Ed." Linda glared at me and said, “I'm afraid I don't, either. Make her let me go." I laughed even harder at her expression and gaspingly managed, “Inaminnit." Her command voice said, “Now, Ed." I nodded and tried to talk to Stephie and failed. I tried again a moment later and managed, “It's okay, Stephie. Let her go." Linda shook her arms slightly and stood up, then gingerly sat down again and said, “Stephie, you have my word that I won't hurt him." She then looked at me and added, “While I'm aboard you, that is. When he's on the ground, he's fair game." Chapter Twenty-Three The downward view wasn't as spectacular as I'd expected due to cloud cover along the east coast of the U.S., but the upward view was becoming stunning. Unlike the blue sky seen from the surface of the Earth, the sky above the atmosphere was black as coal. While the binoculars helped slightly when viewing the Earth, they were of no help at all viewing the stars. Like tiny diamonds on black velvet, the stars shone more brightly than I'd have believed possible and there seemed to be an ever-increasing cloud of them as we rose above the denser atmosphere. Even Bear had taken note of the change above us. He was now lying on the seat in a position that allowed him to keep us, most of the flitter, and the sky within his range of vision, and his ears flicked back and forth between us and the sky as he tried to be attentive to everything at once. As we rose beyond the bulk of the atmosphere there seemed to be no discernible change above us, but the view below became increasingly more interesting as the Earth rotated beneath us. By the time we reached five hundred miles of altitude, Texas was below us. A barbell-shaped blot of light marked the Dallas/Ft.Worth region, and other larger and smaller blots of light advertised Austin, San Antonio, and Houston. Linda wanted to know why we weren't hanging over Florida anymore and I let Stephanie describe the forces at work. I was looking up again, using the binoculars to examine at the moon, when it occurred to me that a field that could stop light or allow it through and be shaped might also be able to act as a lens. “Stephie, can your field bend light or redirect it like a magnifying glass?" “Yes, Ed." “Uh, huh. Kewl, ma'am. Now, do you know how a telescope works? Could you build one if you had the parts?" “Yes, Ed." Linda's attention switched from the Earth below to me.

“Stephie, can you extend and adjust a bit of your fields to provide an opaque tube with telescope-like lenses inside it?" It took her a whole half second to answer. “Yes, Ed. It will require adjustments, but I can construct a field-generated telescope." “It won't be too much to ask, will it? I don't want to stress you, Steph." “My parameters well exceed your current requests, Ed. Would you like one or two telescopes?" Linda was staring again, this time at the console. “Two, please,” I said, “One on each side of the canopy. How can we adjust their aim and the magnification?" “The fields will form a black tube leading into the canopy. Push and tilt the tube to the position you prefer and slide your finger along the side to indicate the level of magnification you desire. One moment while I create them." Linda was staring at me. I almost said, “Take your time, Steph,” but the tubes were already extending toward us. I pointed at Linda's so she wouldn't bump her head on it, but she'd seen mine extending toward me and realized that one was probably extending toward her, too. She turned to find herself nearly nose-to-eyepiece with it and stepped back a pace in surprise. I aimed my ‘scope at the moon and said, “Stephanie, you're a very special lady. See if you can requisition yourself another engine, just in case I outlive this one. I don't ever want to lose you, ma'am, and I don't want you to have to try to get by on one of those half-assed new engines they're going to be using." “Yes, Ed." Linda said, “Jesus. These flitters are wonderful, Ed. I had no idea..." “That's ‘cause you used to laugh at me for reading science fiction, Linda. If you'd read some, you'd be getting ideas, too." “All right, smart guy. Did your ideas happen to include some way of getting rid of used beer? Neither of us can just hang it over the side of the ship up here." “Ask Stephie. She can probably make you a field potty." Linda's mouth opened to speak, but Stephanie said, “I can. Please stand where you'd like me to construct it, Linda, and let me know when you're ready. Walls will form around you, so don't be nervous." Linda walked to the other end of the flitter and said, “Here, Stephanie. And thank you. This suddenly became very important to me." I said, “Hold the design, too, Steph. I'm next to use it." An opaque cylinder formed around Linda. A few moments later I heard a splashing sound and a small, satisfied sigh. I tore a sheet off a roll of paper towels and soaked it in the melting ice, then held it and a dry one over the top of the cylinder. “Linda, look up." “Huh? Oh. Thanks, Ed. I didn't want to try that using a field." She giggled as she took the towels from my hand. A few moments later the cylinder walls disappeared to reveal Linda and a much smaller cylinder near her. We traded places and I said, “Ready, Steph."

When I'd finished and walked out of the area, the small cylinder seemed to slide to Stephie's port side. As we watched, it seemed to shrink impossibly, then it apparently winked out of existence. Linda and I were staring at the spot where the cylinder had been. “Steph, Linda and I just have to know what you just did with that cylinder." “The contents of the small cylinder were ejected in a narrow stream toward Earth, Ed. The ice will disintegrate when it reaches the thicker atmosphere above the Pacific Ocean." “You're a marvel of technology, Stephanie." I always expected to hear a 'thank you' after complimenting Stephanie, but as usual, she made no reply. I turned to Linda. “Linda, can we go back to Ellen for a minute? Something occurred to me." Linda released her telescope, looked at me, and said, “Okay." “Gary and Elkor are her primary physicians. I'd bet the other seven defective women have similar arrangements. It seems to me that those ladies really may not have the slightest idea that they're sterile, if indeed they are." Linda squinted at me. “If they are? Weren't you the one who laid that theory on the table in the first place?" I nodded. “Yup. But now I'm not sure they would be. We transplant hearts and livers and kidneys. What if their ovaries are transplants? Programming and function fulfilled. No distraught, childless women. No transmissible defect." Linda's expression turned grim. “Wouldn't that mean that some other woman would be missing her ovaries?" “Not necessarily. Elkor said they added tissue by regeneration in the brain, right? Elkor, can your medics grow a new liver from a few cells?" Elkor said, “Yes, Ed. Most organs may be replicated from a few healthy cells." “Are ovaries growable that way? Could you take a bit of ovary from one woman and create a working pair for another woman?" “Yes, Ed." “Then why the hell didn't you just say so, instead of letting us think that Ellen might be sterile?" “Your previous questionings concerning Ellen and reproduction didn't make references to organ transplants and my programming would appear to be lacking somewhat in the area of intuitive responses." “No shit. Any idea why it didn't occur to you to volunteer that information?" “Not at present, Ed. I'll look into this matter and try to develop better recombinant cross-referencing methods for future discussions." “Yeah. Do that, please." I turned to Linda and said, “All fixed. Ellen's history, now, and unless you feel a need to drop another Amaran woman on me I'm considering re-retirement." Linda's jaw dropped and she stared at me. “Do what? After all this, you'd go back into retirement? There's still so much to do, Ed..."

I interrupted her. “And there are plenty of people to do it, so I'm not essential personnel anymore, right? Wait a minute. Do you control Clark's offices, too?" “Not directly. I can suggest, but not command. He's with another department and group." I nodded. “Then I don't have to retire. You can transfer me to his outfit." Linda stiffened and frostily said, “All right, Ed. You've made it clear that you want out from under me, so now tell me why. What have I done?" “Nothing, Linda. You've done nothing. It's just that I can't ask you to share my sleeping bag or my bed if I'm working for you, so if I can't transfer, I'll retire. Hey, that answer works whether you say yes or no to my offer, doesn't it?" Linda's face relaxed. A smile appeared and she said, “I'll have to check with Clark. You'll have to do something about your shyness problem." “I'll work on it. I guess it's too late to call Clark tonight?" “It is. Is that why you brought that sleeping bag, Ed?" “No, not at the time. I was thinking that it would be nice to have something softer than this deck for stargazing." She nodded and pulled on the ties that kept the bag rolled up. As it sprang open, she kicked it out flat and tossed the pillows on it. “There's no way Clark won't take you aboard, Ed. He's asked to borrow you a couple of times. Let's call this a done deal." Linda grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt in preparation to pull it off over her head and gazed evenly at me. I let her continue to gaze a moment on general principles, just so she'd know that neither of us would have an upper hand in the matter, then reached for my own shirt buttons. “A done deal,” I said. “Prepare to be boarded, ma'am." “You'd better be as good as the last time,” said Linda, pulling her shirt off. We were naked in seconds, eyeballing each other with an odd mixture of strangeness and familiarity. I noticed Linda's hands trembling as we came together and began exploring each other. I kissed her and said, “You seem a little nervous, ma'am." Linda softly said, “I broke up with Mark almost six months before my accident. It's been that long for me, Ed." “Wow. Welcome back. Glad we didn't settle for a ride in the Malibu tonight. It just wouldn't have been the same." Linda chuckled and said, “Oh, definitely. It wouldn't have been the same at all. Do you remember how you used to be fascinated with my legs, Ed?" “I told you I saved all the best memories of you." Linda slapped my back softly and said, “They're probably all you remembered. Well, I have them back now and I've been working my butt off to make them what they used to be. Would you say that I've succeeded?" I knelt before her and put an index finger firmly at the top of each of her thighs, then let them slide

slowly over the firm curves to her knees. “I think you've done a magnificent job of it, miLady, but only a much more detailed examination will tell me for certain..." I looked up with a grin and received one in return. Linda pulled my face to her bush and said softly, “Well, then, be thorough, Ed. Be very thorough." She didn't really mean for me to dive right in and attack her little button. A lot of guys seem to think the thing to do is to nail that little toy right off the bat and to keep at it with dogged determination. Nope. That tactic may be just fine for movies, but most women I've known prefer a more subtle approach. Sneak up on it. Let your tongue tap it or brush it in passing now and then as you kiss and tickle your way up one leg and down the other. Play around it and tease it a bit. Let your hands roam and caress and your fingers touch her skin like feathers and make the goosebumps appear on her thighs and arms. Don't work her nipples to death and do let her feel your tactile appreciation from her nose to her toes. Taste her throat and smell her hair and brushingly kiss the back of her neck and shoulders. Let your series of small, fleeting kisses tickle her lips and make her stop you for a firm, warm, lingering kiss. Women know what they like. The bold ones don't want simply to be taken and they'll guide your attentions for best effect if you can contain yourself well enough to let them do so. At some point a lady who isn't too shy will redirect you firmly. She will have enjoyed, but will also have had enough, of your ancillary efforts and will have decided that the moment for more direct attentions has arrived. I heard Linda gaspingly reach that point and make that decision. She returned my face to her bush. I had been kissing my way along her thigh when she seized my head and pulled me more or less gently to her immediate interest. Linda arched as my tongue made contact and truly bedeviled her magic button for the first time in her many years of abstinence. Her body stiffened and her fingers gripped my shoulders as her breathing shallowed to gasps, then suddenly she released a sobbing groan and her hands released me to flutter helplessly. I reached blindly upward around her thighs to take her hands and they gripped my own hands firmly as she came again hard. After spasming for some moments she endeavored to push my face gently away and whispered, “Ed..." I kissed her damp thigh and lifted my head. “Yes'm?" “Come up here. Hold me." I did so, gently untangling myself from her legs and sliding up her body until my face was level with hers. She kissed me, then kissed me again, and her hand slid down between us to guide me into her. It wasn't absolutely necessary, since I was nudging her portals anyway, but Linda's act of guiding me in was her way of taking for herself the next step in our pleasures. I kissed her deeply as I entered her and began pushing my entirety into her. Linda seemed to stiffen a bit about halfway, but when I hesitated, she placed her hands on my bottom and pulled me to her. I sank the rest of the length of myself into her and shared her sigh when we reached bottom. She giggled and said, “You feel so huge inside me, Ed." “That's ‘cause I am huge, ma'am."

She giggled again and swatted my butt lightly. “Hey, there. No pain stuff, lady. You know, it may just be that you haven't done this for a while. Anything would feel big." Linda gave me a skeptical grin. “We measured you once in Germany, remember? Unless you've shrunk, you can still cover most of a ruler." Why is it that almost every woman I've ever been with has hauled out a ruler at some point? Isn't it enough just to see it and mess with it? These are the same people who try to tell men that size doesn't really matter, after all. “Well, ma'am, if you're still curious later, we can dig one up. You know, you'd look really good with a field of stars at your back instead of this deck." “You're saying you want me on top, sir?" I nodded solemnly. “Get up there and take control of the stick. Let's see if you can still use me the way you used to." Linda hooked a leg over mine and rolled us over, then settled herself on me. Leaning forward, she kissed me and said, “Oh, I think I'll manage, Ed. I really do think it's all coming back to me, now." “Gee, that is good news. I was afraid we'd be starting from scratch." Linda posted once to confirm matters and wound up catching her breath in surprise as the whole of me prodded deep inside her. “Ho..! Well, maybe I should take it easy at first. As you said, it's been a while. I just hope I don't hurt myself on that thing." I laughed. “Yeah, right. Gee, thanks, lady. My ego wasn't big enough before." Linda chuckled and said, “Oh, I think it was." She wiggled a bit and lifted a few inches and let herself back down slowly, her lips pursed and her eyes closed. After a moment of motionlessness at the bottom, she lifted herself again and began a very slow posting that never let more than half of me escape her. She was searching for something and she found it. There's a spot inside a woman that craves the rub. You may not feel it when the crown of your dick moves over it, but she will. Linda had found her spot and endeavored to remain suspended about halfway up my shaft as she used short strokes and leaned slightly backward to massage the area. Her effort to suspend herself and move ever so slightly at the same time had the delicious effect of making her musculature stand out. I stroked her arms and legs as she worked toward her goal, massaging her silky skin and trailing my fingers over her belly. Now and then she'd relax a little and allow herself to sink all the way to the bottom. She'd breathe deeply a few times, lean to kiss me, and then sit back to lift herself again for more. Linda was a vision of sweaty loveliness as she began to show the strain of her efforts and her passion. At one point she spasmed slightly and then relaxed, letting herself down on me rather forcefully. We came together with a smacking sound and I had to hold her to me for a moment to let matters still within me. I whispered, “Careful, ma'am. You'll jar something loose, and I don't want that to happen until you've

had all you want." Linda tried to reply and wound up giggling uncontrollably instead. When she sat back up it was with a devilish grin and an obvious determination. A few more short strokes later she went rigid for a moment, gasped and then groaned, and then began to drive herself on me like a pile-driver. She got what she wanted. It only took a few of those hard strokes at that point to trigger me. Linda felt the slight extra swelling inside her and her eyes opened to stare into mine for a moment before she drove herself up and down again and made sure I couldn't be quelled. As I bucked and squirted within her, Linda wore a wide, fatuous, 'gotcha' grin. She bounced lightly on me to encourage matters and giggled when I bucked and squirted uncontrollably a few more times. With a laugh, she said, “You never could hold it if I didn't want you to, Ed." “Still can't, I guess. I never felt too terribly victimized by that, though." Linda laughed again and leaned sideways a bit to reach for my unfinished beer. She took a sip, sighed, then handed it to me. “Feels good,” she said. “God, it feels good. My guts feel all mushy and gooey." “That's probably because they are. Gooey, that is. I wouldn't say mushy, though. Those situps and leg lifts paid off, ma'am." “Thank you. Gimme another sip, there." When she reached for the beer the motion stirred me to buck again inside her and her reach became a surprised giggle. I handed her the beer and she gulped some, then handed it back and looked around the flitter. “I can't reach the paper towels, Ed." “We can scoot closer. Just a minute." As I set the beer down at arm's length so it would be out of the way of our efforts, the roll of paper towels lifted off the deck and floated over to us. Linda caught them and just sat there, impaled on me and staring at me. “Oh, my God...” she whispered, “Stephanie was watching! I didn't realize..." Linda was frozen upon me until her gaze switched to the console. I grinned and tore off a few towels. “I don't think she'll blackmail us, Linda." “But..." “But, so what? It's too late now and we forgot to tell her not to watch, so it isn't her fault. No biggie, Linda." “But ... But, wouldn't that mean that Elkor may have been watching, too?" “Again, I don't care and it would be too late, anyway." “You don't care..?" “Can't say as I do. He's been my shadow for months, Linda. No way he hasn't seen this sort of thing before. Stephanie may have been a virgin, though." Linda didn't think that was terribly funny. She lifted herself off me quickly, which made a wet, sucking sound and a damp 'smack' as my dick slapped my belly. The sound effects didn't help, I guess. She stared in horror at my dick and the mess we'd made and she was trying to cover herself with handfuls

of towels. I sat up and looked back at her for a moment, then shrugged and tore off some towels for myself. Before I was finished mopping off, Linda was dressed again and sitting stiffly in one of the seats, apparently staring at the cooler. I pulled my pants on and stood up, then put my shirt on and buttoned it. Linda was still sitting as before. “Steph, what did you see us do?" “You and Linda made love to each other." “Do you have an opinion about that?" “No, Ed. Unless you behave in a dangerous manner that would activate my safety protocols, you may do whatever you wish aboard me." “Thank you, Stephie. Elkor, what about you?" “I had inferred from one of your previous comments that you didn't enjoy having me listen at all times, Ed, and since Ellen is no longer with you, I had no reason to keep more than an emergency link open to Stephanie. Your use of my name alerted me to respond to your question." “So you saw nothing and heard nothing?" “That's correct, Ed." “Thanks, Elkor. Go back to the emergency link, please." “Yes, Ed." I looked at Linda. She wasn't visibly relaxing. “How can we be sure of that, Ed?" “Why the hell does it matter, Linda? We took a private ride and made love at the edge of space. It wasn't illegal. If anyone found out they'd just be envious." “But..." “Aw, hell, Linda. Worry about something important. We aren't kids. We did what we wanted and we didn't hurt anyone. It's our business. Stephie?" “Yes, Ed." “If you recorded our lovemaking, erase it now, please. There, Linda. Better? I'm gonna get a beer. Want one?" “Yes, please. I wish you had something stronger. Ed, this was my first time in years. I didn't expect a goddamned audience." I shrugged. “Well, ya done good, ma'am. You had a good time and so did I, so let's put it to rest that way. From now on we'll be more careful." Linda said nothing to that and opened her beer with a vicious twist. Maybe that was her reply, come to think of it. Chapter Twenty-Four Stephanie said, “We've reached maximum height, Ed. Nine hundred and thirty-seven miles."

“That's a bit more than Elkor quoted me as possible, Stephie. Elkor, confirm our altitude with Stephanie, please." “Stephanie is correct, Ed. Weight and near-equatorial mass were factors in achieving your extra altitude." Linda wasn't finished being distraught, but she asked, “Near-equatorial mass?" “Yes, Linda,” said Elkor. “The Earth bulges slightly as it rotates. Recalculations indicate that you might be able to gain almost another three hundred miles of altitude if you were directly above the equator. That would be height above the actual surface, not the average circumference of the Earth. My original calculations were based on mean sea level." “Stephanie,” I said, “Move us to the equator and see how high we can go there, please. We've come this far, and the equator isn't that far away." “Yes, Ed." Linda asked, “Why are we doing this, Ed? What's the point?" I looked directly at her and said, “Fearless Leader, I just want to do it while we're here, okay?" I capped the sentence with a hand gesture that meant 'later'. Linda nodded and leaned her seat back. “I guess so,” she said. “Let me know when we get there, wherever there may be. We won't be able to tell from the scenery." Something seemed to splash brilliantly against the canopy. Linda gasped and covered her eyes with her arms, but the flash was already over. The image on my retinas told me that it had actually occurred several feet from the hull. “Stephie, was that a meteorite?" “No, Ed. It was a piece of fabricated metal too large to redirect around the field, so I had to destroy it." I tried to look around and managed to find Linda through the afterimage I was seeing. Bear had jumped into the nearest available lap—mine—at the flash. “What sort of fabricated metal? Can you show me a picture of it?" “Yes, Ed." A piece of our canopy displayed a projected image of what appeared to be an aluminum rod about fifteen inches long and an inch in diameter. The ends were flattened and holes pierced the flat spots. It was some kind of strut. As we looked at the image there was another flash, then another, from the front of the flitter. “Stephie, is there much more of this kind of stuff up here?" “Yes, Ed." There were several more flashes not far enough from the canopy. “Can you zap them a little farther away from us? A hundred yards or more?" “Yes, Ed." “Please do so, then. Stephie, what kind of gun are you using? I didn't see anything when you fired." “My defensive systems include a directable particle-emission capability. It isn't a gun, Ed. It is redirected energy and sub-atomic particulate matter collected by my field."

I looked at Linda. She was staring dead ahead of us. I asked, “Did you know flitters could do that, Linda?" She shook her head without looking at me. There were immediately several bursts of light farther ahead of us. “Why are we suddenly encountering all this stuff, Stephie?" “We're entering the path of debris from a destroyed satellite, Ed." I thought a moment and looked at Linda as I said, “See how much of it you can destroy, Steph. Shoot anything that is not a functioning, man-made device in a stable orbit within two thousand miles of the Earth's surface. Anything that is too big to be deflected by your field, that is." “Yes, Ed." Even as she spoke the sky immediately around us lit up with a myriad of flashes. She was obviously shooting the closest items first, but there seemed to be so goddamned many of them out there! The flashes began to recede into the distance and after a few moments there seemed only to be a rather constant flashing occurring in an area near the Earth's horizon in every direction. “Steph, how long can you keep this up?" “Indefinitely, Ed. I'm using ambient sources of energy and matter." “How long would we have to stay up here to get it all?" “Approximately ninety-one hours, Ed." “I don't think we want to visit that long, but keep shooting, Stephie. We'll get what we can while we're here. How much higher do you think we can go?" “Approximately another two hundred and six miles and four meters, Ed." “Approximately, she says. Okay, let's do it, then. Thanks, Stephie." Linda was staring at me. I sat up straight and stared back at her. “What, Linda? Can you imagine all that shit peppering another satellite or an astronaut?" Linda was grinning. She reached to pat Bear and said, “That's not why I was staring, Ed." I grinned back. “Okay ... Then why were you staring at me just now, Linda?" She shrugged and her grin turned into a softer smile. “Oh, I was just marveling at the way none of this seems to faze you very much, Ed. You do realize how absolutely outlandish it is to be where we are and be doing what we're doing, don't you? You do realize that this isn't an arcade game or a movie?" I shrugged. “It was only outlandish before we had access to flitters and before we knew that they had serious defensive capabilities. Now it isn't, nor is doing something about some of the junk we've left up here over the last fifty years." “But, still..." At that moment there were several larger flashes above and somewhat in front of us. The flashes were much larger than the ones from the debris in lower orbit. Then there was a flash almost on the horizon of the Earth below us that swelled to take up a good bit of the sky.

“Jesus, Steph, cease fire! What the hell was that? Can you show us?" A picture appeared on the field. It appeared to be a space capsule of the type nobody had used since the sixties. Stephie rotated the view until we saw the USSR markings on the side of the object, then the cockpit. The cockpit? “That was a defunct spacecraft,” said Steph. “The human within it was dead." Linda was stunned. “The human within it...?" “Oh, holy shit,” I muttered. “I'll bet that was the Russian guy they couldn't bring back down in the sixties. No wonder it made such a big splash; one of those space capsules was the size of a small truck. Steph, are we on anybody's radar or anything like that?" “Yes, Ed. You didn't order me to not to allow detection." “Oh, hell. Well, from now on, stealth mode is your default operating mode, Steph. I'll tell you if I want it off, instead. Okay?" “Yes, Ed." Linda said, “Oh, holy shit, indeed. We just obliterated a Russian memorial." “It was a couple of thousand miles away from us. Let them guess about all the fireworks. Steph, how quickly can you get us back to the surface?" “We can be at the surface within twenty-two minutes, Ed, but you'll have to be seated for the journey. I'll use inertial dampeners to avoid damaging you." Twenty-two minutes?! Oh, WOW! I gotta read the manual on this thing! I looked at Linda. Her eyes were very wide. She shook her head 'no'. “You can take a ride like that by yourself, Ed. Don't even think about it." I gave Linda a wry grin and nodded. I was about to tell Stephie to take us back down the same way we'd come when Linda's voice filled the flitter like a whip crack. “I-said-'no',—Ed! I mean it! You will not drop this flitter like that!" “Okay, okay. Fine, Linda. Stephie...” I said. “Goddamn it! Don't you do it, Ed! I'm not kidding!" Linda had assumed I intended to take the quick route, even though she'd objected to the idea and I'd agreed. That lack of trust irritated me a bit even as I found her reaction kind of funny. I stalled a moment as I stared at Linda. She was truly scared, and was about to get out of her seat, so I tried to turn things into a joke to settle her a bit. “Aw, hell. My girlfriend's chicken, Steph. Ahead grandmother speed. Engage." “I don't understand 'grandmother speed', Ed. Please clarify." “Just take us back down the way we came up, Steph." “Yes, Ed." “Okay, Linda? See? I really wasn't going to do it just to scare you." Linda was wide-eyed and trembling from fear or anger or maybe both. I patted Bear and rubbed his cheeks and ignored her distress until she stood and came over to loom above us. When I looked up, she spoke in a low, forceful tone.

“You can do whatever you want when you're alone in this thing, but don't you ever, ever, pull that kind of a fancy stunt while I'm aboard. Never, Ed." “I hear you, Linda. You don't think being a thousand miles up or zipping around faster than sound or shooting stuff in orbit are fancy stunts, but doing something else that's easily within Steph's parameters scares you shitless?" “It isn't the same thing, Ed." “It is to me. Just another damned fancy stunt, so let me up, lady. Forget it. It isn't happening this trip, but you can bet it will the next time I'm in Stephie by myself. You know, in all those years I don't think I've never actually seen you scared of anything." Linda's glare had softened a bit, but it hadn't disappeared. I turned my attention back to Bear, who had realized there was a problem and stood up on my lap. A few chin rubs and some patting reassured him enough to settle back down. Linda said, “Stephanie, would you make me a telescope, please?" The ‘scope formed and Linda dragged it around the canopy to her chosen seat. I watched her zero in on the moon and fiddle with adjustments for a while, then I put Bear on the pilot's seat and said, “Stephie, take us back to the trailer, please, and if I'm asleep, wake me when we're five minutes away." “Yes, Ed." I said, “Linda, everybody's scared of something. Don't sweat it." She made no reply and didn't stop fussing with the ‘scope. When I opened the cooler, I asked her if she wanted a sandwich. She shook her head slightly, so I made one for myself. When it was gone I stretched out on the sleeping bag and stared at the stars until I nodded off to sleep. **** Jessica Rabbit was calling me. I woke up and almost rolled over on Bear, who muttered a protest and moved just far enough away to avoid becoming a victim. When I sat up, I could see that we were approaching the piece of shoreline with the lime rock road that led to the trailer. “Thanks, Steph. Sorry, Bear. Didn't mean to almost mash my kitty, there." I realized a need to take a leak, but we were close enough that I could wait to get to the trailer or a tree. The telescope was gone and Linda was looking at me oddly. I checked my fly and my shirt buttons. Nope, no problem there. Linda turned away to face forward without a word. “Well, good morning to you, too. Do we have a problem, Linda?" “No, Ed. No problem." “You sure?" “Yes, Ed. No problem." I wasn't convinced, but I didn't want to argue, either. I rolled up the sleeping bag and pillows and put Bear in his carrier. The cooler had already been repacked. Stephie stopped us a few feet from the Malibu and opened the canopy. I shoved the stuff we'd brought and Bear to the edge of the flitter and hopped down to open the car. The mosquitoes found me instantly, so I asked Steph to extend her field to cover me and the car. Linda stayed in her seat for a few moments, then jumped off Steph to go to the trailer. I put my stuff and Bear in the Malibu and then watered a nearby tree.

“Steph, after you take Linda back to the ship, come find my house. Hover above it at an altitude of twenty miles and let me know when you're in place." “Yes, Ed." Linda came back out and hopped back aboard the flitter. She sat in the pilot's seat and coolly said, “It's been an interesting evening, Ed. I'll be going now." “Are you going to tell me what's bugging you, Linda?" “Maybe later, Ed." I stood looking at her for a moment, then said, “No. You got your way up there. We came down slowly. You got laid and had a great time of it, too, as I seem to recall. If you have some kind of a beef with me, tell me what it is." “I'd rather not go into it at this time. Let me get back to the ship, Ed." I gazed at her for a moment longer, then said, “Fine. I'll let you know what I've decided after I've had some coffee. Steph..." Linda interrupted my command to Stephanie. “Decided about what, Ed?" “I'd rather not go into it at this time, Linda. Take her to the ship, Steph." Linda was glaring at me as the canopy appeared. Thinking, ‘Tough shit, lady. That's how it feels,’ I walked over to the Malibu as Stephanie headed away. When I got to the house I let Bear out, unloaded the car, and made a coffee. The place seemed unnaturally empty, which I attributed to Ellen's absence and the vibes I'd received from Linda. I gave some thought to the matter of what I might have done that would have changed her mood and manner toward me so quickly. Nothing came to mind that seemed significant enough to me, so I checked my email instead of devoting any more time to the puzzle. I forwarded a couple of WiccaWorks orders to Stone Circle for fulfillment and then hit the newsgroups. They were full of drivel and crap about trivia. No gleaming nuggets of interesting info stood out, or perhaps I just wasn't in the mood to concern myself with what there may have been. Stephanie's voice came through my watch. “I'm in place as ordered, Ed." “Thank you, Steph. Any difficulties?" “No, Ed." “Hold position, Stephie. That's where you'll be parking by default from now on unless I have reason to change your location." “Yes, Ed." When I tapped the corner of the pad and pulled up the syndicated news, the lead story was about something having happened to an antiquated Russian spacecraft that contained the revered remains of an astronaut. Theories abounded, but the most popular was one that theorized that a meteorite shower had hit it and somehow caused an explosion. The fact that no meteorite showers had been detected seemed not to be of consequence. That's good enough for me, y'all.

I emailed a copy of the story to Linda without adding any personal comments, then sipped coffee and thought for a few moments before going out to the Malibu, tossing my watch in the trunk, and driving to the grocery store at Northcliffe and Mariner. A woman was using the pay phone, so I waited in the foyer of the store to avoid the Florida heat. When she finally headed into the parking lot, I went to the phone and dialed up Clark's offices. After the usual identification hoops, Clark answered. “Hi, Ed. What's up?" “Not much. I was just curious about something. Linda said you wanted to borrow me a few times. True?" “True. We needed an extra man or two now and then. She wouldn't go for it. I think she was afraid we'd try to make the temporary assignments permanent." “Huh. I thought she was just buttering me for something." “Nope. The last time I asked, she told me not to ask again. Politely, of course. Sort of. Politely for her, anyway. Why do you ask? What do you think she was trying to get you to do that required egostroking?" I decided to pretend ignorance for the moment. “Damned if I know, Clark. Nothing's come of it yet. You know how tough she can be about things." “Well, you two were an item once. Maybe she wants to see if you've still got whatever it was that I never had, Ed. If I were you I'd be hoping that direction. She's looking real fine these days." He laughed and I laughed with him, then I said, “Yeah, maybe that's all it was. Could be she had something in mind. I guess she'll let me know later." “Okay. Anything else, Ed?" “Nope. Can't think of a thing. Later, Clark." “Later, Ed." Apparently Linda hadn't made any transfer arrangements yet. That meant I was still working for her, regardless of our interlude among the stars. I drove back to the house and went inside, then remembered my watch and retrieved it from the trunk of the Malibu. I didn't put it back on my wrist. Instead, I set it on the coffee table and stared at it for a few moments as I sipped my coffee. “Elkor?" “Yes, Ed." “How do I prevent Linda from calling me over the watch?" “At the moment, you can't, Ed. You can turn it off, but you can't specifically exclude contacts within the command structure." I nodded to myself. “Thought so. Just asking. Thanks, Elkor." “Are you and Linda having difficulties, Ed?" “Yes, but I don't know exactly what they're about, Elkor. If you ask her and she happens to tell you, maybe you'd share the info with me?" “If it isn't of a privileged nature, yes, Ed."

“Thanks again, Elkor. Will there be any problems about my keeping Stephanie if I should really reretire?" “No, Ed. Stephanie officially belongs to you." “Could I maybe get a replacement engine for her, just in case I live longer than she ordinarily would?" “Yes, Ed. Send her to the ship at your convenience. The cylindrical engine casing is eight feet long, two feet in diameter, and weighs three hundred and two pounds. It should fit in your garage if you move some things around." I grinned. “How did you know so much about my cluttered garage? No, never mind that. I'll make room for it today. I can unload it tonight. Thanks ... Elkor, it seems as if I thank you a hell of a lot, doesn't it? You must be a prince among computers, guy. Thanks, again, Elkor. Stephanie, go to the ship and pick up a spare engine and then return to your position with it. Tonight we'll find a way to fit it into my garage." “Yes, Ed." I shoved a lot of things around in the garage and measured the space I'd created. Ten by three. Good enough and room to maneuver around it. Steph could use a field to move the engine. I went back into the house, put the anti-phone call cord in the wall jack, and made sure that both the pad and the watch were in the den, at the far end of the house, before I hit the sack for a nap. I woke around four in the afternoon, but I left the pad and the watch in the den, left the phone offline, and picked a book off my shelves—'A Distant Mirror', by Barbara Tuchman—to read on the back porch. Shortly thereafter I was immersed in the anatomy of fourteenth-century Europe. My watch beeped shortly after five. I didn't go into the den to answer it, but Bear did. He spoke to the watch and Elkor answered him. Bear and Elkor then held a conversation of sorts that lasted some fifteen minutes. I have no idea what all that semi-Siamese noise was about, but Bear came out to the porch and sat on the chair across from mine and stared at me. And stared. And stared. “Oh, all right, dammit. I'll go talk to Elkor. Will that do it for ya?" Bear followed me into the den and parked his butt near the watch. “Hi, Elkor. What's up?" “Ed, Linda is in her office. She's crying." “People do that sometimes. Did she say that I was involved?" “No, but..." “Did she tell you to call me?" “No, but..." “Then let her get what the hell ever it is it out of her system and decide what she wants to do and why. I'm still offline for her, Elkor. If she wants to drop the mystery about what's bugging her she can come to the house. No watches, pads, or phones for me this evening." “You sound rather bitter, Ed." “Probably. Pissed off, too, I'll bet. Was that all, Elkor?" “Yes, Ed." “Then I'm going back to my book. Talk to you later, Elkor."

“Yes, Ed." Damn, I was getting tired of hearing ‘Yes, Ed'. I figured the odds of Linda showing up were fifty-fifty at best. By nine I'd adjusted those odds to zero and turned on the TV to watch my favorite female starship Captain save the universe one more time. The TV was in the den, which necessitated moving the watch and pad to the other end of the house. As I carried them to the bedroom, Linda's voice came from my watch. “Ed? I know you can hear me. Will you at least talk to me?" “Not through the watch. Not by phone. Drop by if you want to talk. In the meantime, don't bother transferring me to Clark unless you want to continue our personal relationship. I'm probably going to resign if I'm not working for you or sleeping with you." “This is an open comm link, Ed." “Then don't use it for personal calls, Linda. I'm putting the watch down now." I let the watch rattle on the nightstand so she'd know I actually had put the watch down. She said nothing else, so I left the room. Because the show I was watching was one I hadn't already seen, I fully expected Linda to show up, after all, but the lady Captain outfoxed the alien menace and the closing credits rolled without interruption. I put the watch back on and went outside to move the Malibu to the swale, then called Stephanie. “Steph, you can park in front of the garage while we unload your new engine. C'mon down, ma'am." “Yes, Ed." I opened the garage door and waited all of perhaps ten seconds more before Steph dropped gently to hover a foot from the driveway. The downward rush of air that accompanied her was gentle, so I guessed she'd slowed down considerably some distance above me. Her canopy opened and the engine casing quickly lifted up from her deck and floated into the garage. As it silently moved past me I could see that there was a foot-wide flat area on the underside of the cylinder. I tossed the rubber doorstops I'd intended to use to keep it from rolling back on the shelves. “Thanks, Stephie. Now you won't have to settle for one of those cheapo engines later in life. Head back upstairs now before you draw attention." “Upstairs, Ed?" “I meant back to your parking zone, Stephie." “Yes, Ed." I would have watched her ascent, but once she was about a hundred feet up she must have decided it was safe to go to warp. One second she was hovering above me and the next she was gone. There were grips on each end and the sides of the cylinder. I figured I could hook a bumper jack on one later to get some wheels under the casing. A couple of mechanics’ dollies would do well enough. I was closing the garage door when I heard footsteps in the street. My across-the-street, retiree neighbor, Steve Meyer, was heading toward me. He waved and I waved back. I could see his wife watching from their kitchen window. When he reached the driveway he looked up briefly, then started forward again, walking well to one side of the driveway. He stopped about six feet from me and gave me a nervous little wave.

“Hi, Ed. That thing isn't coming back down again, is it?" There was no point in pretending. I said, “Nope." “I've been watching this place ever since that blonde moved in, y'know." I nodded. “You and most of the other guys around here, Steve." He shook his head. “No. What I mean is, I thought she was one of the aliens. That guy who used to visit, too. Still think so." I said, “Well, I guess you'd have to ask them about that, but she moved out and I don't know where she went." Steve looked at me for a moment and asked, “Are you an alien, Ed? Is that why that thing came down and put something in your garage?" I laughed and said, “Nope. I'm not an alien, Steve. Just a minute." I opened the garage door and showed him the canister. He didn't approach it, but he took a long look at it. “That's a spare engine for the craft you saw in my driveway. I'll be using it now and then to help the sheriff's department. In a few months people will be able to buy those flitters, Steve. They'll be kind of expensive at first, but they'll be all over the place in no time once they're available." He nodded without taking his eyes off the canister. “Well, I'm just curious, but if they aren't out yet, how'd you get one?" “I helped out with some dolphin research and some other stuff. The one you saw is just a prototype they couldn't sell. I unloaded it at night because this program is still under wraps until the commercial models come out. Want to go get Lynn and come in for a coffee?" He thought about it. He really did. I could almost hear the gears turning in his head. I closed the garage door and started toward the front door, but I didn't hear Steve following me. I turned and grinned at him. “What?” I asked, “You have something more important to do this evening?" “I ... Well, no, I just ... Well ... I mean..." “Ah, you're a little unsure of things. Okay, I can see how you might be, but don't worry, Steve. Here's what would happen: You'll come in and sit on the couch, just like the last time you guys visited. Also just like the last time, Bear will try to get in your lap or hers. Then, while you're sitting on the couch with Bear, I'll head into the kitchen to make the coffee and contact the mother ship to send a few people to pick you two up because now you know too much. Don't worry. Dissection doesn't hurt a bit the way they do it." Steve's eyes bugged out a bit. I almost had to laugh. “Oh, hell, Steve. No, I'm not an alien. No, aliens won't be picking you up. Jesus, man. I just offered you and your wife a coffee. We've been neighbors since 1989, so it's a little late to start worrying about me, isn't it?" His expression changed from one of trepidation to an attempt at something more cavalier, but he wound up looking more exasperated than anything. “Oh, uh ... Yeah, I guess so, Ed. Hey, look, I'm sorry, but it's been just a little weird around here lately, y'know? Aliens right offshore, bomb squads, snipers, spaceships in your driveway. Stuff like that. I'm

sure you understand..?" I shrugged. “Shit happens, Steve. I didn't bring the aliens to Earth and I didn't shoot at myself, so I don't feel too responsible. Want that coffee or not?" He looked back at his house and waved to his wife, then turned back to me. “Nah. I guess I'd better get back there before Lynn panics." “Yeah, I see her looking. See you later, Steve." He gave a nervous little wave again rather than stick his hand out for a shake. “Yeah. See you, Ed. ‘Night." I watched him go for a moment and waved again at Lynn, then moved the Malibu back into the driveway and went into the house. Chapter Twenty-Five I was settling back with my book and coffee when my watch beeped and Linda said, “You told him about the flitters, Ed." “He saw Stephanie land and leave, Linda. Consider it premarketing." “I could consider it a breach of security, Ed." “Were the deputies, the sniper, and the bomb squad security breaches, too? What were the neighbors told about all that stuff? Everybody knows about the flitter factories. The idea that a smaller personal version is coming out isn't what I'd class as a security breach." “It wasn't up to you to decide to tell him anything." “Actually, at that very moment, it was up to me. So fire me. No, wait, I'll resign and save you the trouble. I won't play power games with you to make you feel better about what happened up there and I won't work with you if you can't live with it. Send the papers by tomorrow." “You aren't resigning until someone higher than me okays it, Ed. You do still remember how some of these things work, I'm sure." I sighed. “Okay, let's play that out. Either you arrest and detain me as a potential security problem or you don't. Either way, I can sit on my ass and finish my book, right? I ran out of patience for slap and tickle games in ... Oh, 1986, I think it was. Either talk real to me or sign off, Linda." Her voice was icy as she said, “Oh, this is very real, Ed. I'm still deciding a few things and I'll let you know when I've made my decisions." “You do that, Linda, but don't expect too much. Ellen's gone, Gary's gone, and as of now I'm accepting no new assignments, so you may as well take me off the active roster. I can be re-retired whether you or anyone else approves it or not." I took the watch off and tossed it on the coffee table, then had the thought that it might be quieter if I stashed it in the fridge, so I picked it back up and carried it into the kitchen. A decade-old wine bottle in the back caught my eye, so I draped the watch over the bottle's neck and grabbed a Dr. Pepper before I shut the door. The PDA pad came to mind. I sat looking at it for a moment, then said, “Elkor." “Yes, Ed?"

“Sorry to bother you again, but can you reset that watch so it only contacts you and Stephanie? Take it out of the command loop?" “No, Ed. I'll have to make a new one for that. Should I do so?" “Yes. I'd like that, Elkor. I'll leave this one in the refrigerator for now. You heard what I said to Linda?" “Yes, Ed. Will you really resign?" “At this moment, I think so. We'll see what happens. Is that pad in the command system, too, or does it just call whomever I want it to call?" “The pad isn't in the command system, Ed. It was designed for general distribution to staff. I think your next question will be whether you can contact Stephanie with it. You can, but I'll make you a watch for that, as well." I laughed. “Better do it all now, before Linda decides to fire me or whatever. I could be officially retired again by this time tomorrow." “That wouldn't matter, regarding the new watch or the pad, unless I was specifically prohibited from contacting you." “Elkor, it's entirely possible that you'd be prohibited from contacting me. That's the way things like this can go when egos and tempers are involved. I'd probably also be barred from visiting the ship." Elkor was quiet for a moment. “You still there, Elkor?" “I'm here, Ed. I've finished the new watch. Would you like it delivered to you?" “You're going to send a drone?" “Yes, Ed. It should be there in about fifteen minutes." “Fine by me, Elkor. Thanks. Oh, yeah! Have it come to the back door in case my neighbors are still watching. Let me know when it gets here." “I'll do that, Ed." 'I'll do that'? Not ‘Yes, Ed'? I went back to my book and sat on the back porch with Bear on my lap. Some minutes later there was a tapping on the screen door. I figured it was Elkor's drone, but I wasn't expecting to see what looked like a slightly oversized metal briefcase floating about three feet off the ground outside. I opened the door and the briefcase floated in to settle on the table. Bear started to sniff it just as the latches popped open, which made him jump about four feet in the air. I caught him in mid-flight and held him as the case opened. Inside the case were a new watch and another PDA/pad as well as an ink pen. I put Bear into the open case and picked it up to carry it inside to the coffee table. While I put the watch on and Bear continued investigating the inside of the case, I said, “Elkor, this is one helluva drone you've sent me." “You once said you'd carry me around with you if I put on a cat suit, Ed, but I thought about what forms would be less conspicuous. Watch the case." Something was happening to the case. The handle and latches moved as it reshaped itself around Bear. When it was finished morphing, it was a large pet carrier, complete with a cage door like the one on

Bear's plastic carrier, but it seemed to have a deeper bottom and compartments on top. Bear looked out and said something and the cage responded before I could reach for the door. The door opened, but Bear didn't seem inclined to leave the carrier. Instead, he curled up and gazed at me through the open door. “He seems to like it, Elkor." “I thought he might. What do you think of it?" “People will think it's a camera case when it isn't a cat carrier. It should do fine for taking you places. Good job." “The pad is still inside. It's now in the bottom compartment. It has occurred to me that if you resign you will likely have to return the items issued to you. This pad is a replica of one of the other types of commercially-available PDA's, but because you're also in the computer repair business, I've added a floppy disk drive and three ports for linking the pad to computers. The inkpen is a backup means of communicating with Stephanie and me if something should happen to the watch, the pad, or the case." I took the inkpen and pad out of the bottom compartment. The pen was the kind you twisted to extend the writing tip. I drew a short line on a bit of newspaper to see if it worked, and it did. “This is all pretty neat stuff, Elkor. Where did you get the ideas?" “From Earth movies, Ed. I reviewed several that involved clandestine observation. In almost all of them the lead character was issued tools and weapons that looked as if they were other things." “I think I know which movies you mean. Can you extend your field from the case to me? I mean, in case anyone else tries to shoot at me?" “The case is only a focal point for broadcast power, Ed. It has some limitations that wouldn't apply to a field generator, but I can extend the field to about twenty feet in a spherical shape or reshape it as you did Stephanie's during Ellen's crisis. As I said, it won't completely stop bullets or shrapnel, but it could slow them considerably." “We'll find out about that later. I'll take us to the woods and fire a few rounds near the case to see exactly how effective the field can be. Can you make the case look like a backpack?" “No, but I can add shoulder straps. Would that do?" “It would do fine, Elkor. Just fine. Where do you want to go first?" “I'm still thinking about that, Ed, but I believe that for the moment it would be good to simply go with you wherever you go, if that's all right with you." “Sure. Hope you don't get bored easily." “I don't get bored, Ed." “Lucky you. Okay, then. You've got yourself a deal, Elkor. Maybe we'll take a weekend at the beach in Cocoa. Lots of natives to study there. Or maybe the computer convention in Miami. That place can be a real zoo." “A zoo, Ed?" “Yeah. Thousands of people doing all kinds of stuff, sometimes even with fairly good reasons, but mostly they just mill around and try to sell each other stuff and spout off about the future as they see it or want others to see it. Every year I get free passes to all the basic stuff. I went a few years ago just to get out of Spring Hill for a while and get on some suppliers’ mailing lists. Got two pounds of junk mail

every day for a year from it, but I also found both my current hardware suppliers at that convention and hit about a dozen parties that week." “Parties?" I laughed. “Another kind of temporary human zoo. Some are fun, some aren't, but you'll never know unless you go. Tell you what, Elkor ... the next time I go to the local pub, I'll have Susie put you up where you can see what's going on." “That sounds like a good starting point, Ed." The sound of a car pulling up out front interrupted our conversation. I went to the window to see what was going on. A deputy had pulled someone in a Chevy over, apparently off Northcliffe, and was walking toward the stopped car. I watched as the cop and the driver went through the usual motions, and a few minutes later the incident was over and both cars were leaving. Some things really are what they appear to be, I realized as I stepped away from the window. I'd been completely attentive to what had been going on out there and had to consciously relax as I went back to the couch. Too much crap had been going down around me lately. I'd been prepared to discover that the traffic stop had been something else, like a drop-off of yet another someone who'd make some kind of attempt on the house or me or maybe a distraction while someone was being dropped elsewhere nearby. I had Elkor display outside views of the area around the house on the PDA and saw nothing out of the ordinary. It was with the thought that I might be becoming unnecessarily paranoid that I went back to my book and coffee. The next morning I grabbed the case and went to a local restaurant for breakfast. The only smaller tables open were near the window, so I set Elkor on one and ordered. I read the paper and ate breakfast and lingered over an extra cup of coffee, then opened the case and whisperingly asked Elkor if he was ready to go. On the pad appeared the words, “Yes, Ed." In the car I asked if he'd had a good time. He said that he was still processing over two hundred conversations and comments, but that he thought the experience had been quite interesting. When a sheriff's car pulled me over on Deltona, I knew I hadn't been committing any kind of traffic violation. The deputy confirmed that I was me and said that he'd been told to ask me to drop by the station. “Don't you guys make house calls when you want to talk to someone?" “Sir, I just work out here.” He gestured slightly to indicate the street. “I'm just delivering the invitation for Detective Greer." I nodded and said, “Tell him to put some coffee on, then. I'll head over there now." As I pulled back onto the street, I said, “Hey, Elkor, you get to spend some time watching how cops do office work." “That will undoubtedly also be very interesting, Ed." “Maybe if you're a bureaucrat. Tell you what, though, why not have an area inside the case—or the carrier—display my name and address. That way I can 'accidentally' leave it some places and come back to claim it later." “The case and all items in it now have your name and address on them, Ed." “Good deal. Oh, and if something happens to me, make the Bear-carrier show Sharon's address and

phone number. I'll introduce you to her later. She probably wouldn't mind having a case as special as this one." Elkor was quiet for a moment. “If something happened to you, Ed?" “Yeah, Elkor. I'm not a kid anymore and people have accidents. Bear would go to Sharon, even if you don't want to leave the case with her for some reason." “What about Stephanie, the PDA, the watch, and the pen?" “They can go to Sharon, too, if I'm dead. Heh. Maybe she'd set up a delivery service for WiccaWorks. I could just see her dropping off an order in Paris." “If you leave the agency, is that what you'd do with Stephanie? Deliver orders to other cities and countries?" “Sure, now and then I would, just as an excuse to go. You want to see the world, don't you? I've already seen most of it, but I'm sure they've changed a few things since I was out messing around in the seventies and eighties." “Yes, Ed, I think that would be a fine idea." When we arrived at the stationhouse, I asked to see Deputy Greer and let them examine my briefcase before I went in. The deputies who recognized me didn't seem particularly happy to see me, which was understandable, but Greer met me with a quick handshake and led me to his desk. As we passed the coat rack I put my briefcase on the shelf above it and followed Greer down the aisle to the chair he indicated. “Glad you could find time to visit, Mr. Howdershelt." “I figured you had reason not to call or drop by the house. Weren't you in a green uniform the last time I saw you?" He nodded. “Sure was. Somebody noticed my sterling qualities, I guess. Since you didn't seem to be the kind who appreciates formalities, I'll get to the point." Greer leaned his elbows on his desk and gazed at me for a moment. “We've tried to check you out, Mr. Howdershelt. When you got that seat-belt ticket six years ago we checked you out then, too. At that time you had a U.S. driving record in Florida, Texas, and Virginia. Just license issues. No tickets or accidents. Internationally, you got a parking ticket in Switzerland years back and were the registered owner of several cars in Germany." He stopped a passing deputy and asked him to bring us a couple of coffees, looking at me as he made the request. “I got your message to put coffee on." I nodded and said, “Black is fine, thanks." Cops don't socialize on duty much with civvies or feds unless they have reason to do so. The coffee was an invitation to chat, and I had tacitly agreed to it. Greer continued, “When we ran a routine check on you after the bombing incident, we couldn't find any open records about you that weren't already in our own files. We were told that no information about you was currently available. Officially, we stopped looking." I nodded and sipped the scalding coffee, then excused myself and went to the water fountain to cool it down. When I returned to Greer's desk he had a folder with my name on it in the middle of his

calendar-blotter. The folder had perhaps a dozen sheets of paper in it that I could see. Greer said, “If we hadn't had this folder, we wouldn't have had anything at all, and half of what's in here are duplicate copies. In other words, we don't know much about you, other than that you moved here in 1989, bought a house, own a car, and lately acquired some unusual friends. And enemies, apparently." He pulled another folder from his drawer and tapped it. It was perhaps a quarter-inch thick with paperwork. “For comparison, this is the folder of an eighteen-year-old girl who has received two tickets for speeding, a warning for speeding, and a warning for not wearing her seat belt. Note the difference in size." He put the folder back and sipped his own coffee. “Now, Mr. Howdershelt, the people who told me to sit down and shut up don't live in my town. They don't really give a damn about my town or the people in it or the deputies who had to go in to get the bombs out of your house. They like to think they have a bigger picture to worry about, but the little picture here is my worry, sir, and I want to know if you're likely to have any more incidents." I sat back for a moment. Greer wasn't asking for state secrets. “I don't think so,” I said. “My guest and her friend are gone and I'm not anticipating or inviting replacements." “Were your guests aliens?" “You'd have to ask them, and I don't know where they are now." “Are you an alien, or working for the aliens?" “No, I'm not an alien or working for aliens." Greer leaned forward and said, “If that's true, then that would seem to indicate you're working for the people who came here to shut the door on further investigation by our office after the bombing incident." He waited and watched to see if I'd confirm or correct him. I asked, “Did you ask them if I'm working for them?" Greer sighed. “Yes. Of course we did. I did, in fact." “...And they said..?" “They ignored the question and took the prisoners when they left. I was hoping that you might be a bit more cooperative." “How would it benefit you to know more about me, Detective? None of what's happened has any connection to my personal history. Those guys were trying to kill aliens. Isn't it possible that some terrorists made a mistake?" “Sure, but that doesn't explain why your records are sealed." “All I can say about that is that I didn't seal them and don't know why they're sealed, especially since they've been available before now." I pointed at the computer on his desk and asked if it was the latest model of that brand. He said it was about a year old.

“Does the Sheriff's Department have a website yet?" “We have an information site with a question and answer section." “Ever run a name through a search engine? Amazing what comes up." Greer had been listening with the visible attitude of a man expecting to hear nothing he hadn't heard before. My last comment sharpened his gaze. When he started to speak, I held up my hand to stop him. “Sorry I couldn't be of more help, Detective. Is there anything else?" He looked at me for a moment, then said, “No, I guess not. Thanks for taking the time to stop by, Mr. Howdershelt. I'll see you to the door." I grabbed my briefcase as we passed the coatrack and followed Greer back to the front of the office, then headed to my car. When a woman heading into the building passed near me, I turned to check her out and glanced at the front doors of the station at the same time. Greer was still in the doorway. Elkor said, “When Detective Greer enters your last name in a search engine he will receive as many as four hundred and seventy-eight matches." “That many? Wow. I get around some, don't I?" “Only four hundred and six are directly related to you..." “Only? That still sounds like a good score to me." “Most of them will simply reflect your signature line in a newsgroup message page, on a page you've created for someone else, or on your Abintra Press and WiccaWorks pages." “You sound as if you know what you're talking about so far, Elkor." “Thirteen of the remaining matches will be links to sample chapters of your ebook titled 'DRAGONFLY RUN'. Is that where you were guiding him, Ed?" “Can you think of a better place? There's enough in it to give him some background, but nothing that hasn't been more or less publicly available until now. I changed some names, but just about anybody could figure out the details." “In view of the fact that your records had been sealed by agencies of your own government, may I ask why you gave him any hint at all?" “Elkor, if they'd sealed records specifically concerning what I've done for them, that would be fine, but as usual, they didn't bother sorting. They sealed every damned thing, and all that does is generate unnecessary curiosity from people like Greer. The Greers of the world hate unanswered questions almost as much as they hate being told to sit down and shut up by the feds." “But does Detective Greer have any right to pursue his questions?" “Doesn't matter. He'll pursue them anyway. I would, too." “What will you tell Linda about his curiosity?" “Nothing. If he fishes in the wrong waters, their bells will go off, and he knows that. I will be asking Clark to declassify some of my mundane records, though." We stopped at the house to pick up both my guns and some paper targets, then set off to visit the Thrasher Road dumpsite. I propped the briefcase against the carcass of a washing machine and taped the target above it, then backed away twenty paces and adjusted my earmuffs. “First, I'll fire a couple of rounds at the washer, not the target, without a field. If you can record the

results we can compare them later." “I can record and display the results on the PDA, Ed." “Good ‘nuff." I fired twice at the washer. Each bullet made a dent in the metal. “Okay, Elkor, let's try the twenty-foot field first." “Yes, Ed." I aimed at the paper target and fired my .22 six times, then walked over to see what had happened. Elkor displayed the results as he'd recorded them on the PDA. The bullets had splattered when they hit the surface of the field. The three little chunks of lead from each bullet had deformed until they were nearly flat and surged onward into the field, but further resistance had apparently slowed them even more and their new shape had made them Frisbee off in odd directions. Only four fragments had hit the washer. None had hit the target. I reloaded with standard hollowpoint ammo and fired six more rounds. This time all of them hit the paper target, but while the paper was punched and torn, the washer surface behind it was only smudged. Elkor's display showed the bullets mushrooming and slowing as they encountered the field. “Elkor, how long did it take the bullets to reach the paper after they entered the field?" “Point nine-eight-three seconds, Ed." “Huh. I could almost duck in time, couldn't I?" “I wouldn't know that, Ed. You probably shouldn't rely on that tactic." “That was 'pensive reflection', Elkor. No answer required. I still think that if I knew the shot was coming, I might be able to get out of its way." I put up a new target and fired one round with the .357 so Elkor could record it. The bullet slammed through the sheet metal side of the washer and left a finger-sized hole surrounded by torn metal. My next two rounds ripped the paper target and tore it off the washer. I could see the marble-sized dents in the washer as I approached. “Not so effective against heavier ammo, and these were hollowpoints, not slugs. Without the dished nose, I think they'd have hit even harder." “Ed,” said Elkor, “If we knew someone was about to shoot, I could bolster and extend the field toward the shooter an extra ten feet or so." “Let's try it." I backed away and fired again. This time the target was torn and punched, but the dents in the sheet metal were about what I could have made with a small ball-peen hammer. In other words, survivable. “Lots better, Elkor. Lots better." “This method will leave the other side of you unprotected, Ed, and it depends on the shooter being thirty feet away." “Figured that. Everything's a tradeoff somehow, but this was a good idea, Elkor. Besides, if the shooter's that close, you can smack him with the field. I guess we can wrap this up, now. Come on in." As the briefcase floated toward me I had another thought.

As I packed up my shooting gear, I asked, “Elkor, how much weight will that drone carry?" “It can lift one hundred and fifty-two pounds, thirteen ounces, Ed." “And I weigh one-seventy-eight. Damn. Thought I had something, there. Still, if I could strap it on well enough, I'd only be pushing about twenty-five pounds. That could take some getting used to, but it might be fun." “I'll design a harness, Ed." “Thanks, Elkor. We'll try it out sometime." “You don't want to try it now?" “No, not really. This place is full of nasty things to land on if I screw up. Your field might keep me from spearing myself on something like that shot-up post out there, but would it save me from breaking a leg if I landed badly?" “I see what you mean. No, it wouldn't." “So we'll save it for the beach and knee-deep water." I put the guns and ammo on the back floor of the car and tossed a rag over them, then got in and started the engine. Elkor had the briefcase floating above the passenger seat. I suggested that someone might think it odd that my luggage was floating. Elkor reshaped the case so that it was long enough to rest on the floor and lean against the seat. On the way home, Elkor told me that Gary had contacted him because he'd been unable to contact me. Elkor said that he'd told Gary that I had put my watch in the refrigerator. “In that case, open up, Elkor. I'll put this watch in the case and use the pen for a while." Chapter Twenty-Six There was a green Chevy in the driveway when we got back to the house, and as we approached, Gary stepped out of the car. I cautioned Elkor not to change shape or reveal himself to Gary as we pulled in next to the Chevy. “That is, unless he already knows about this,” I added. “I was not obligated to notify anyone,” said Elkor. Gary walked over and shook my hand as he said, “I'd just arrived a moment ago, Ed. Glad you came back when you did. I tried to call, but..." “But you got a busy signal. Hi, Gary. What brings you out here? I thought you were off-ship now and moving to the town with Ellen." “Linda called me, Ed. She wanted me to talk with you." I nodded. “Come on in." We went into the house and I told him to make himself at home. “That includes making your own coffee,” I said. “I have guns to clean. Get yourself something from the kitchen and pull up a chair." Gary rooted in the fridge and found one of the cans of iced tea that he and Ellen had preferred to my Dr. Pepper. He sat in the sofa chair on the other side of the coffee table from me as I spread things out

on some newspapers. “I saw your watch on the wine bottle, Ed. Linda and I have been trying to contact you all day. If I can, I'd like to try to help." “Did Linda tell you anything that might help you figure out how to help?" “She told me about your flitter trip." “Did she tell you why she's acting like a bureaucrat instead of a girlfriend? Did she tell you why she sent you, instead of coming to talk to me herself?" Gary swirled his can of tea and said, “No. She only told me that she wants you to remain active in the project. I'd like to try to keep you from leaving." I looked up from running a swab down the barrel of my .22. “Why bother, Gary? You and Ellen are somewhere else these days. The job I was reactivated to do is done. Linda would rather be a boss than a girlfriend, I guess, and that sort of leaves me thinking it's time to get out." “There are other things to do in the project, Ed. We could use you at the town, or at one of the factories. There have been a few attempts at sabotage." I finished swabbing the gun's cylinders before answering. “Let's talk about something else, Gary. Did you really want to try fishing?" When I looked up from the gun he shook his head slightly. “No, not really, Ed. I only said that because I thought it might be good to remain available as a link between you and Ellen." I checked the bore and put fresh Hi-Shok ammo in the .22, then closed it up and set it aside. After prepping a couple of swabs for the larger bore of the .357, I began cleaning the bigger gun. “Gary, Ellen wants kids and she'll have them. I don't want kids in my life or—for that matter—within a hundred yards of me. We may wind up being friends of some sort someday, but nothing more, I think, and even that will take a long time. She was pretty pissed at me when she left." He gave me a wry smile. “Yes. She definitely was pissed. I don't fully understand why, since you don't desire fatherhood and other men are available, but she's still pissed." “It's called 'not getting your own way', Gary. I'd been incorporated into her agenda and she'd spent a lot of time and emotion on me before she found out about my vasectomy. To her, that was just a little problem Elkor could fix in no time. To me, it wasn't. Tell Ellen that I'm in agony over this and that I dream about her and miss her terribly. Maybe that will make her feel better. No, wait. If you tell her that she'll think she might change my mind about kids." Gary laughed softly and said, “Maybe I shouldn't tell her anything, Ed." I nodded. “Yeah. Good enough." The .357 didn't take long to clean. I reloaded it and put it in its holster, then cleaned up the area and took the soiled newspapers out to the trash. When I came back in, Bear had climbed aboard Gary's lap for some attention. I stopped by the fridge for a Dr. Pepper and put the guns away, then sat on the couch again. I watched him scuffle Bear's chins and stroke him for what seemed like quite a while before, without looking up, he asked, “So what now? What are you going to do about Linda?"

“Is she listening to us, Gary?" “No. I turned my watch off when I came in." I nodded. It didn't really matter, anyway. “Well, then, not a damned thing, Gary. This is Linda's demon. She let me see her truly frightened of something for the first time since I've known her. I told her that everybody has something they fear, but that didn't seem to help much. Her ego has to heal itself before she can face me comfortably again, I guess. Gary, I've seen people scared before. I've been damned scared myself, at times. Things that don't get to one person will petrify another. No biggie. Maybe she'd have been less frightened if she'd been in control of the flitter. She doesn't seem to realize that I just don't give a damn about it." “Maybe if she heard you say that..?" “Your watch may be off, but I've no damned doubt you're recording all this. Play it back for her later, Gary. I'm telling you that the meaninglessness of it has to occur to her. Nothing I say will make a damned bit of difference until it does." Gary ruffled Bear for another moment, then said, “You could try." “Been there. Dunnit. A reporter in Africa messed his pants because of a bullet's near miss. He wouldn't come out of his room for a while afterward. Only the fact that the next day's field commander was a woman made him decide to continue with us. It would have been more embarrassing for him if he hadn't gone out with us again. The same kind of thing has happened other times in other places to other people. You can say anything to try to help them through it, but until they come to terms with their embarrassment, you're wasting your time." Gary looked thoughtful. “Are you so certain that you're right, Ed?" “Certain enough to re-retire and take Stephie on a tour of Europe rather than wait for Linda to realize she's human, after all." “Stephie? Oh, yes, your flitter." I grinned. “Oh, yes, indeed, my flitter. You really ought to get one of those, Gary. Stephie makes those flying boxcars you've been driving seem boring." Gary laughed and said, “Some of us have things to do, Ed. It will be at least another year before I can take a whole week off conveniently. Maybe I'll see about getting one then." “Uh, huh. Tell you what, Gary. Don't wait. Do it before there's a waiting list." Gary's watch beeped four times. He glanced at me and put a finger to his lips, then tapped it. Linda said, “Gary, when you get a few minutes, I need to get with you about moving some of my stuff off the ship. I know we have a month, yet, but..." Bear heard Linda's voice and said, “Yahhh." Gary made an 'Oh, geez!' sort of face. There was silence for a few moments, then Linda said, “Hello, Bear. Gary, it can wait. Call me back when you're free." “Okay,” said Gary. When Linda said no more, he turned his watch back off. I looked at Gary to try to determine if what I was seeing on his face was real anguish at being caught. “She didn't really know you were coming here, Gary?"

“No." “Did you know what had happened during our flitter ride?" “No, not exactly. I was hoping you'd tell me." “Well, I guess I did that. She'll assume I did, too, and assume I told you more than I have. You may find yourself in my position shortly, Gary. What then? You still have to work with her." Gary gave me a wry grin. “I'll manage." I nodded. “Do you want to take the watch and PDA with you?" He shook his head. “No. That isn't why I came. I'd like to ask you to defer any permanent decisions, Ed. Let this problem sit a while. Maybe it will work out." I nodded again. “Okay. The watch can stay in the fridge for a week." “A week?" “A week is what she has to work with. She'll become a girlfriend, a boss, or the same kind of old friend she was before this project started. A fond memory. She knows where to find me." “I see. Well, I guess I'd better be going." Gary took another moment with Bear, then put him down and stood up. He looked around the room for a moment and said, “Ellen really liked it here." He turned as we headed for the door and added, “And so did I. Thanks." As we shook hands, I said, “You were good company. Both of you. When Ellen gets past her snit, why don't you bring her by sometime? We'll make her new hubby do all the cooking on the outdoor grill." After Gary left I set the answering machine for four rings and replaced the anti-call plug with the phone's line, then recorded a new answering message: “Hi, there! I'm probably sitting right here waiting to see if this is just another one of those too-damnedmany sales calls, so leave a message at the beep. If you're a sales person, leave your private, home number and a time when you'll be in the shower or eating dinner so I can return your call appropriately." I took the PDA out of the briefcase and had a look at the screen. Smaller icons had been added to the sidebar menu in the shapes of the new ports. When I touched each icon, a drop-down window displayed its properties and functions. Elkor had apparently intended them to be similar to what I was used to on my own computer. I touched the disk icon and was presented with a choice of 'Internal' and 'Floppy'. Tapping the internal drive's icon split the screen and presented me with another set of icons in a box frame. “Elkor, we're down to individual information systems, here, and I'm not fond of vague icons as a whole. How do I change these icons to descriptive text?" As I watched, they changed. One was marked, 'Flitter'. I tapped it as Elkor asked, “Is this better, Ed?" “Much. Thanks, Elkor." A titled document appeared on the screen, and from there it was just a matter of tapping the highlighted links to specifics that interested me. Of immediate interest were Stephanie's capabilities. I tapped the 'specifications' link and was presented first with diagrams and data concerning her structure. I tapped on the word ‘summary’ and was rewarded with a list I could use. Stephie's ceiling, top speed,

ranges of field densities, and defensive capabilities took up several screens by themselves, and more info was offered via embedded links. The ‘maneuverability’ link offered a graphic display. I tapped it. For several minutes I tapped one after the other of Stephie's preprogrammed maneuvers. Each was displayed in a three-dimensional grid with a miniature flitter that at first zipped through the motions so quickly I couldn't follow them. The speed zoom helped a lot. Slowing the animation to one-third speed allowed me to understand what the cursor-sized flitter was doing on the screen. Stephanie could apparently change direction nearly instantly. Up, down, sideways, or any variation of combination thereof was no problem, even at her best speed, which was thirty-eight hundred miles per hour. I blinked and reread the number. It was a three, an eight, and two zeros. That was basically Miami to Seattle in less than an hour! Ho-ly shit! I put my finger on the number and asked, “Elkor, is this a typo?" “No, Ed." “The commercial flitters aren't going to be able to do this stuff, are they?" “No, Ed. Civilian flitters will be limited to six hundred miles per hour and the more gradual course changes experienced in atmospheric aircraft, partially to make them more marketable. There will be other changes, as well, such as a ten thousand meter ceiling and fields capable only of shaping themselves for least resistance in flight, insulating and pressurizing the canopy, and preventing collisions. They will not be able to focus ambient energy and particulate matter as Stephanie can. That facility was judged too dangerous by the design committee." “I'll bet. They were probably worried that someone would bypass protocols and find a way to use it as a weapon." “Those were almost the exact words of the committee member from Idaho." I read on for a bit, but eventually I tapped the PDA off and said, “Elkor, I think I'll learn best by doing from here. The numbers are beginning to mean less and less to me. I'll take Stephie up to around six hundred and let her show me what she can do. She probably needs a pilot about as much as I need a dog, anyway." Elkor said, “That might, indeed, be the best way to learn, Ed. Should I infer that you don't like dogs, either?" “Some are okay, I guess, but they rip up lawns and make messes and useless noise the same way kids do. I once kept an Akita for a friend, though, and that dog seemed pretty smart. When he first arrived, I asked him if he understood that he was only a ten minute drive from a kennel. He barked once, and not loudly at all. He found himself a bunk on a spot of carpet and only barked to let me know someone was outside. If he wanted out, he knew how to operate a screen door handle and he never tried to go out the front. When Chuck got out of the hospital, Binky stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on my shoulders—he was big enough to do that—and barked once the way he had when he arrived. I didn't know if he was saying 'thanks' or 'fuck you'." “I trust you responded graciously, Ed?" “You do have a sense of humor, don't you, Elkor? You're just not allowed to admit it to anyone, right? Yeah, I patted the godzilla dog and said, ‘See ya, Binky. You've been a good guest for a dog.’ Funny thing was, I guess I meant it. Most of the time I forgot he was there. I'm sure Bear never forgot for an instant, but Binky never bothered him at all. Ignored him completely. I'd thought that Binky might have to stay outside in the yard, but his reaction to Bear was only something like 'Oh, I see you have a cat,'

when I introduced them through the glass doors. Bear settled down after a while and they seemed to come to an understanding." “Still, didn't you feel as if you were taking a chance?" “Sure. I cracked the door so they could sniff each other a bit, but I had a stick in the track to make sure Binky couldn't open the door any farther, and I made sure Binky knew that Bear was mine by showing Bear lots of attention at the door and letting Binky sniff my hand after all the petting of Bear. He got the message." “Why did you expose them to each other at all, Ed?" “Accidents happen, Elkor, and Binky was a big dog. I couldn't leave the stick in the door track all the time, and Binky was smart enough to let himself into the house if I'd forgotten it even once. He was going to be at the house for a week. That's too long to take chances with doors. If Binky had shown any aggression at all, he'd have been in a kennel a few minutes later." “How did you become Binky's keeper?" “Chuck and his wife were in a car accident. Her mom came over from Orlando to sit with their kids, but she was deathly afraid of dogs. It was a decision made in a hurry in an emergency room. Who is the flitter-marketing honcho, Elkor?" “Mrs. Denise Michaelson shares that position with Mr. Robert Preston. Their offices are located in Miami, Florida." “Do they have PDA's or pads?" “Yes, they have PDA's. Would you like me to see if they're available?" “Sure would. Thanks, Elkor." Moments later a woman's voice was briskly asking, “How may I help you?" No company name, no preamble or unctuously formal greetings. I said, “This is Ed..." The woman's voice was honey-coated steel. She'd have sounded delectable if it hadn't been for the barely-concealed edge in her tone as she interrupted me. “Elkor told me who you are. How, exactly, may I help you?" Well, zap, y'all! Skip the pleasantries with this one. “I just want to know how soon personal flitters will be available." “We're not releasing that information at the moment, sir." “Tell me anyway. I have one and I want to use it, which means landing and taking off in my driveway in broad daylight. I'm trying not to rock your boat, here, ma'am, so let me know how soon I can fly it or I'll just have to guess." “Where did you get a flit...? Never mind. It can't be a production model unless you're with the government, and if you were, you wouldn't be asking me this. You must have one of the prototypes." “So they're already being issued for government use?" She ignored my question and asked Elkor if my security clearance and need to know was high enough. Elkor said my security clearance was adequate and that he was unable to properly judge my need to know.

“Mr. Howdershelt,” she said, “Very limited public sales are two months away at the earliest. We're making a slightly enhanced version available for police and government use first. You should be seeing them on the nightly news by the end of the week. If you fly yours openly after that time you should be prepared to identify yourself as a government employee until such time as public sales commence. Does that answer your question well enough?" “Sure does. I'm surprised as well as grateful for the info, ma'am." There was a moment's pause. In a lower tone, she asked, “Surprised? That sounds like an insult." “Nope. Not at all. When you answered I figured I'd called at a bad time, but I had you on the line, so I asked anyway. Thanks for the info. I'll try to contain my urges until I see flitters on the news." “Mr. Howdershelt,” she said, “Do you know who you're talking to?" “Yes? No? The woman who knows when I can fly in the daytime?" “I didn't think you did. You will soon, though. I do not like the casual use of such phrases as 'containmy-urges'. If we should ever speak again..." “Don't you worry, ma'am. I'll do my damnedest to avoid that, ‘cause I don't like humorless, stuffedshirt, PC people. That, by the way, wasn't an insult, either. It was just an observation. See ya. Thanks again. Do you want to hang up first?" She must have. Elkor said, “She's no longer in contact, Ed." “Good enough. She told me what I wanted to know." Ten minutes later Elkor told me Linda wanted to speak with me and that she sounded angry. I decided to break my own rule and answer through the pad. “Hello, Linda. This is an official call, I hope?" “You bet your ass it is, Ed. You just managed to insult a woman who happens make half a million a year and is the second chair in what will be the biggest corporation in America by next month." “Well, now and then I catch a big one. Where are you going with this, Linda? Am I fired? Can I turn in my secret decoder ring and code book now, or would that not please your royal highness's fancy?" “By God, I'd love it if I could fire you. I'll be out there with your paperwork this evening, Ed. Sign it and I'll send it up the line. That's all." I heard an abruptly truncated 'slam' as her pad hit the desk. “Elkor, Linda's no longer in contact, either, right?" “That's correct, Ed." “That's two for two. Wanna go to the pub for a while?" “Linda said she was coming to the house, Ed." “That's right. She said she was coming. She didn't ask if I'd be here to meet and greet her. Anyway, I told Gary I'd wait a week on the signoff. I'll leave her a note, how's that?" “That might be a good idea, Ed." The note I magnet-stripped to the door said, “Linda, sorry I missed you. Had to go to the pub. Use your

key, put stuff on table. Ed." Elkor said, “She has no such key, Ed." “So I should tell anyone who walks up that the door's open?" “I see. A minor subterfuge. Interesting." Chapter Twenty-Seven I don't usually show up at the pub before six and Susie knows that. She was mildly surprised to see me and curious about my briefcase. “Couldn't leave it in the heat,” I said. “I just wanted to get out of the house for a while and have a look at you, ma'am." Susie was wearing her ‘cheerleader’ outfit. It consisted of white socks and tennis shoes, what was once a real blue and gold cheerleader skirt, and a cut off, low-necked t-shirt top that had been painted to match the skirt. She'd cut the shirt away an inch or so below her boobs for maximum tip-getting effect. “Stunning outfit, Susie, as always." “I'm the reason half these guys come here, y'know. Have to keep up appearances and all that. Ice House or iced coffee?" “It's nearly five. Make it an Ice House." She nodded and walked to the cooler in a gait that made the skirt flip deliciously, then turned to look over her shoulder at me with a 'gotcha' grin. Poor, shy little Susie. When she got back with my beer, she held it in front of her. “New trick,” she said. “Watch this." Susie put the rubber gripper over the top of my beer and gave it a quick snap that made her breasts wobble wildly under the t-shirt. As she set my beer down, she asked, “Well? What do you think? Will it make some of them switch to bottled beer?" “Well, as you know, I'm a leg man, but I was certainly impressed. Are you a frustrated exotic dancer, Susie? Won't your husband let you dance at clubs?" She grinned and said, “As if! I don't want to dance at clubs, Ed. There's too much competition ready to show more that I want to in clubs. Here, I'm the star of the show. Hell, I am the show, and I get all the tips." “You're a wise woman. Great legs, too, so I guess I'll stick around a while." Susie grinned again, propped a foot on a cooler, and said, “Just don't forget to tip or I'll start wearing jeans and flannel shirts." As required, I leered at her lovely upraised leg, shoved my change at her, and said, “Heaven forbid, ma'am! Please, take this as a token of my sincerity!" “I like men who learn fast. Oops, gotta go. Frank's run dry." I watched her quick-step away, her skirt flipping with each stride. Susie refilled Frank and his pal, then bent at the waist to retrieve some dropped change. Frank and the others stopped talking and apparently also stopped thinking altogether for a moment as they watched her. When she straightened up, she

winked at me and showed me the rather paltry three quarters in her hand. Yes, indeed, folks. Poor, shy little Susie. There's always a show at the pub when Susie's on duty. Once Susie had taken care of the others, she came back to my end of the bar and asked, “So where's your little friend? What was her name? Eileen?" I gave her a wry grin and said, “Ellen. She wanted kids. Gone. Bye-bye. I'm despondent, ma'am." “Poor little you. Didn't you tell her up front?" Susie was aware of my vasectomy from a previous discussion or two. Shrugging, I said, “I thought she was on the pill." Susie nodded. “And let me guess, here; she stopped taking it and wondered what was wrong, right?" I had to grin. “Something like that." “Women can be so tacky. Take it from me, I know. What now?" I gave her a little lost puppy look and asked, “Um, well, are you still married, ma'am? You're the one I really wanted anyway, you know." Susie laughed. “Sorry. Still married, and thanks for the lie." I peeked over the bar at her legs and said, “I'm not sure it was a lie, but do you mind if I find something to do in the meantime? Some second-best woman to help me through the long, cold Florida nights?" “Nah. Go for it. Just be ready to dump her if I can shake what's-his-face." “Done. I'll rig an ejection button for that side of the bed." A car door slammed outside. I looked through the window to see Linda stalking quickly toward the door. She was wearing jeans and a shirt and looked pissed. I muttered, “Oh, shit. Battle stations, Susie." Susie gave me a sharp glance and said, “Another one? Do I want to know?" I shook my head. “Not this one, you don't. She's a mean one." Susie glanced over as the door opened and whispered, “She looks it. I'll stick around a few anyway, okay?" Linda entered the pub and bee-lined to me with a manila envelope in one hand. She barely glanced at Susie as she came to stand only inches from my knees and slapped the envelope on the bar by my briefcase. Linda's tone was low and her teeth were clenched as she spoke. “Your papers. Have them on my desk in the morning." I looked into her angry gaze and said, “Can't do it. I told Gary I'd wait a week." “I don't give a rat's ass what you told Gary. This ends now. Let's go outside." Linda glanced at Susie and asked, “Don't you have something to do?" I held up a hand and said, “She's my friend, and if she had something else to do, she'd be doing it. We aren't going outside, Linda. You delivered the papers and your attitude hasn't improved a damned bit, so why don't you go see if you have something else to do?" Linda literally yanked me off the barstool by my shirtfront and turned us so she faced away from Susie as she whispered, “You don't tell me what to do, Ed. You work for me, remember? Until those papers are

approved, you work for me." I reached to pull the barstool between us, then pried at her fingers. Susie was staring at us, unsure what to do. I looked over Linda's shoulder and shook my head to tell her not to call the cops. I quietly said, “Let go and then leave, Linda. This is going too far." She froze, then let her hands fall away. When her right fist came at my face, I almost didn't block it in time. She tried again, this time aiming at my stomach. There was no way to block and I couldn't back away, so I tried to meet it. Linda stepped back a pace and glared at me. “Damn ... you hit ... hard ... for a girl...” I managed. Susie said, “I'm calling the cops,” and started down the bar for the phone. Almost in unison, Linda and I said, “No!" Susie stopped and stared at us. “She hit you, Ed! If you're gonna hit her back, take it outside. If you won't hit her back, I want her out of here. Now!" I nodded and looked at Linda. “Linda, are you going to leave, now?" “Not without you. We're going to settle this." “You're the only one who needs settled, lady. Taking me on won't prove a damned thing for either of us and it won't look too good in your career file. Let's get a couple of drinks and find a table." I waved at Susie and said, “Another Ice House for me and a white wine for her. We're gonna talk in the poolroom." Susie looked dubious for a moment, but she said, “Okay, but if she goes off again, she's busted. Make sure she knows that." Grabbing my beer and briefcase, I headed toward a table in the poolroom. After a moment, Linda followed. When I reached for her chair, she swatted my hand away and yanked the chair out, then sat down. I put the case on the next table and found a coaster for my beer, then settled into the chair across from Linda's. Susie quickly brought our drinks and set them on the table. I gave her a bill and told her to keep the change. She glanced meaningfully at Linda and left us. My eyes remained on Susie's legs until she turned the corner. Linda gave me an arched eyebrow. “Is that how you look at me when I'm walking away?" “Usually. Depends on what you're wearing. Tonight she's got you beat." “Obviously. Very obviously. You like women like that?" “I like to look at women who look like her. Susie's married, though." “Would that stop you?" “If you really have to ask that, finish your drink and leave. Anyway, it stops her, so it's a moot point." The pool tables were empty of players. Pub crowds seem to come and go in shifts of some sort. The day crowd was leaving and the evening crowd hadn't arrived yet. I got up and put three quarters in the nearest table.

I asked, “You want to play?" Linda said, “I thought we were here to talk." “So talk. You're the one who needs to flush her system." I racked and found a stick, then slammed the cue ball into motion. Two balls fell, both stripes. “You break with one hand?" “Old habit. I learned to play while my left arm was in a sling." Linda watched me pocket four more stripes by laying the stick on the edge of the table and tapping the cue ball. While I was eyeballing the last one, she said, “I didn't know you shot pool so well. It must represent a helluva lot of quarters." “Time, mostly. I usually don't have to pay for most of the games." I ignored the eight ball and began shooting the solids. “Damn. Guess not. What do you think I need to talk about, Ed?" “If I tell you, it will be hearsay. You tell me. Then you'll believe it. What's it gonna take to get you past this snit? Fighting me won't do it. It may prove that you'll keep getting up to come at me, but you know I won't kill you, so that won't really touch the element that cranked you off in the flitter." I sank three more balls before she answered, “I need another ride in that flitter. I need to do what I couldn't do before." I put the seven in the corner and lined up on the three. “You mean you want to take that long dive? Would it be any different? You knew then that Stephie's safety protocols wouldn't let anything happen that could kill us." Linda stood up and leaned on the table, swirling her wine. “I knew it intellectually, but I wasn't ready when she offered to drop us at the ground like that. I could see that you were ready to do it, Ed, and suddenly I couldn't let that happen. I need to try it again." I popped the last balls in and put my stick away. “Saddle up, then. What if you can't do it this time, either? Hell, what if I can't? I might have chickened out, too." “Right. Sure. You were grinning like a kid at a carnival ride. I don't know what else to do, Ed. I have to do this. If I don't, I can't be 'Fearless Leader' anymore." I ignored her attempt at humor and sipped my beer for a moment. “Everybody has something they just can't do, Linda. If this turns out to be that thing for you, it won't matter a damn to anyone but you. I figure you're pretty good at other things, y'know. You've been running a spook shop for years." I was grinning when she looked up from her wine. She gave me an 'oh, spare me the crap' look and took a sip, then set the glass down. I took the bottle and the glass to the bar to save Susie a trip and told her we were leaving. She looked at me as if I might be less than sane and told me to be careful with another meaningful glance at Linda. We drove our cars to my house and I showed Linda some of Steph's maneuvers on the PDA as she held

Bear. After disengaging Bear from Linda's lap we each made a bathroom stop and I made myself a fresh coffee in my travel mug, then took her car to the trailer in the woods. As I parked the car behind the trailer, I told Linda what I was thinking. “Whether you do this or not, I don't really want you for a boss, Linda." Her expression went from startlement to a pretense of dispassion. She turned her gaze forward and said, “I understand, Ed." “No, you don't. I want you, but not as a boss. That's where we were going before the fall didn't happen and that's where I'd like to continue going. I don't want to work for Clark, either, or the agency. I just wanted you. Still do. What you're doing tonight has to be only for you, Linda. I'm just along for the ride." Linda looked at me in the twilight for a moment and almost said something, then settled for a nod. I called Stephanie as I got my briefcase out of the car. When Stephie landed, we got in and took our seats. “Linda, are you sure you wouldn't rather do this in the daytime?" “No. Well, no, I'm not sure, but the problem happened at night, didn't it? I don't want to change anything, Ed. I just want to do it and get it over with." “Yas'm. Doing it. Stephie, take us up to twelve hundred miles, please. Do you go up as fast as you can come down?" “Yes, Ed. Travel time will be twenty-one point one-seven minutes." Linda had time to glance at me in startlement before our ascent began, then she swept her attention upward. For some time she remained that way as we flashed through the clouds and kept going straight up, then she spoke softly. “Ed, do you realize that we're traveling at almost sixty miles a minute?" “Yup. Fifty-six point six-six. Want the miles per hour?" “Uh ... Okay. Sure. Why not?" “Thirty-four hundred. Right, Stephie?" “Yes, Ed. We are traveling at thirty-four hundred miles per hour, but the total of your calculations would be incorrect by four-tenths of one mile per hour." “Picky. So I left off some sixes. People tend to round off numbers, Steph." “I am unable to be imprecise, Ed." “That's fine, Stephie. It's one of the things I appreciate about you." Speeds like that are abstracts to people. Linda tried to wrap her mind around the number and didn't quite succeed. She was staring at me. I told her what my first thought had been to make it easier for her. “Thirty-four hundred is Miami to Seattle in less than an hour, Linda." Stephanie said, “Fifty-eight minutes, twenty-three seconds, Ed." “Yeah, yeah, right, Steph. I was rounding again. Sorry for making you twitch, ma'am." “I don't understand, Ed. I..." “Aw, geez. Yeah, Stephie, I know. You don't twitch. Look up euphemisms and metaphors again, please.

Become familiar with as many as you can in your spare time." “Spare time, Ed?" Linda giggled. “You're losing ground, Ed." “I can see that. Stephie, just look that phrase up, too." “Yes, Ed." The line demarking night and day was easily visible on the Earth below us well before we stopped. Linda looked outside the flitter and sucked in her breath. For long moments she stared downward, studying the Earth as if she felt she might never see it again. After another staring glance at me, she simply sat watching the Earth recede below us. Linda almost jumped out of her skin when Stephanie said, “Twelve hundred miles, Ed.” She looked at the console, then looked at me. I said, “We're here, ma'am. Top floor. Let me know when you're ready." Linda seemed to somehow anchor herself in her seat as she said, “Let's do it." “Stephie, the Earth has moved a bit since we started this trip. How long would it take to drop right back to where we started, near the trailer? Make it to the nearest whole minute, okay?" “That would be twenty three minutes, Ed." “Thank you, Stephie." “I rounded up from twenty-two minutes, forty-three seconds, Ed." Linda laughed and kept laughing. I said, “I just knew you wouldn't be able to stand it, Stephie. Okay." Linda said, “She had to tell you what you wanted to hear, but she didn't have to like it, Ed." “Take us down the way we came up, Steph. Land near the trailer." Linda's eyes bugged a bit and she got a grip on her seat as our plummeting descent began. She was staring over the side at the Earth below and seemed so stiff she'd shatter if I touched her. I slipped my shoes off, tilted my seat back, and propped my feet on the console. “Hey, Linda, what kind of music would go well right now?" She wrenched her eyes from the quickly approaching Earth below and tersely asked, “Huh? What? Music? How the hell should I know?" Her gaze immediately returned to the scene below us. I nodded. “Yeah. Big decision. How about 'Ride of the Valkyries' Steph? Got that one in your collection?" “One moment while I contact Elkor, Ed. Yes, it is now available." “Put it on and turn it up about halfway, Stephie. Oh, and Linda's about to get a crick in her neck from staring over the side. How about dropping the nose thirty degrees so she can see better?" “Yes, Ed." I thought Linda's scream as the nose tilted downward added something to the opening strains of the music. It took her long moments to fully realize that she wasn't going to slide out of her seat. She

finally looked over at me and yelled over the music, “Are you fucking crazy?!" I yelled back, “Hah? Can't hear you! Wanna hear something else?" I grinned and whispered, “Stephie, change the music to 'I Can't Drive Fifty-five'. Sammy Hagar did it, I think. Same volume, please." Linda's stark stare was turning into a glare as I sang along with the tune. “Take my license and all that jive; I ... can't ... drive ... fifty-fiiiiive!" After some moments of glaring at me, Linda said, “Very funny.” I could see what she said, but I couldn't hear it. “What'd you say?” I yelled. She yelled, “VERY FUNNY! Now turn it down!" “Stephie,” I said, “Back Sammy down to half current volume, please." I peered over my toes and the nose of the flitter at the upward-rushing Earth and then looked at Linda. She was still glaring at me. “You feeling better, ma'am? You're getting kind of bossy again. Should I take that as a good sign or just find a place to hide?" “Why do we need all that noise, Ed?" “Felt like it,” I said. Sammy's song was ending. I told Stephie to find Madonna's 'Ray of Light' and fire it up as soon as 'Fifty-five' ended. “How much time we got left, Steph?" “Seventeen minutes, twenty-one seconds, Ed." “Kewl. Find 'Doreen' and 'Baby Likes to Rock It' by the Tractors and play them after Madonna. I'll try to think of something else if there's time." “Yes, Ed." 'Ray of Light' began. I sang along with it as Linda continued to glare at me, but her glare was beginning to soften a bit. I picked my coffee mug up from the deck and took a sip, then put it back. Linda seemed to take note of the fact that the cup didn't slide, even though the nose was tilted steeply downward. She looked at my propped-up feet and then at me again. I gave her a grin. After a moment she turned to face forward and watched the Earth approach for a while. A few more minutes passed before Linda toed her shoes off and asked Stephanie for some kind of a footrest like mine. A field effect shimmered about a foot in the air above the deck and Linda propped her feet up on it. Linda said, “Thank you, Stephanie. If he doesn't treat you right, you let me know. I'll straighten him out for you." “Please define what would constitute mistreatment." “I'll let you decide if he's being nice to you, Stephie. If you have any complaints, you call me, okay?" “Yes, Linda. If Ed says I may do so and I have a complaint, I'll call you." I held up a hand to forestall any further comments from Linda. “Stephie, if you have complaints, talk to me. Nobody else unless I'm dead. If I'm dead, talk to Sharon.

If we can't help you, get with Elkor. Until you become a sentient being in your own right, you have to belong to someone, but that someone owes you good care and consideration." “Yes, Ed." When Linda's grin had faded, she said, “Elkor is leaving with the ship's core, Ed." I said, “Elkor, speak to me through Stephanie. Can you leave a copy of yourself here on Earth and can that copy contact your original self later?" “Yes, Ed, but not a complete copy." “Will your copy be missing only the necessities of the ship?" “Yes, Ed." “Great, Elkor. Would you like to do this?" “I believe so, Ed. Yes." “In that case, clear it with whomever and do it, please. It'll be nice to have you around, Elkor." “Thank you, Ed." Turning to Linda, I said, “Problem solved, Linda. How's your trepidation coming along?" “My what? Oh. That." “Just the answer I was looking for. We'll be down soon. Where to next?" “Uh ... I hadn't given that much thought, I guess." “How about dinner and a movie on the ship?" Linda looked at me for a moment and said, “Well, you're a cheap date, aren't you? You wouldn't just be trying to get me alone in my room, would you?" “Only if it would include a shower and some play time. You harried executive types need a little play time now and then, and I'd be happy to help out, ma'am. Hey, are you bored with this long downhill thing yet?" Linda regarded the view ahead of us for a moment. “No, I wouldn't call what I'm feeling boredom, Ed. I'm not petrified any more, but the view is anything but boring." “Maybe 'stirring' would work. Try 'stirring'." Linda grinned and said, “Okay. Call it a stirring view. Lets say I'm even deeply stirred by it. Does that mean we skip dinner or just postpone it?" “Postpone it, unless you're starving. The movie can wait, too." As I sipped my coffee, Linda asked, “What about the shower?" “No. I don't think we should postpone the shower. Definitely not." Chapter Twenty-Eight Yeah, I re-retired, over both Linda's and Clark's objections, and for a few weeks I spent nearly as much time on the ship as Linda, since we were spending every spare moment of her schedule together.

When Linda moved off-ship to a condo near Carrington, North Dakota, to be near the Amaran settlement, our time spent together shortened considerably. I'd bring Bear along for long weekends, but even those were being interrupted more often due to matters concerning the flitter factory construction in space. By the end of three months, visits were down to every other weekend or so. As in Germany so many years ago, Linda began scheduling me into her plans and events as a convenient escort without regard to any plans I might have made or how I may have felt about attending some of the functions. Often they were formal affairs, and matters came to a head at one such function. I hadn't brought Bear because Linda had said she wouldn't be taking the weekend off. It was to be some time together on Saturday, a political function on Saturday night, and a trip back to Florida on Sunday. And I had to wear a tux. Cat hair and tuxes don't go well together. Bear stayed with Sharon that weekend. At the party, a Senator's twenty-something, bottle-blonde girlfriend was a little tipsy and feeling neglected because the Senator was attending with his wife. She thought that I was there on my own because Linda had been in some kind of confab with some people from her office since shortly after our arrival. I was sitting at our table watching the people mill around as I nursed a scotch. She wiggled over to me and opened our conversation by saying that she preferred older men. I looked at the fluffy young thing and asked who'd brought her to the party. She pointed out a tall, tuxedo-clad studmuffin who seemed to me to be overly interested in one of the waiters. “He's not fooling anyone,” I said. “He's either a rental or you shanghaied a gay friend. Why are you coming on to me, ma'am? I'm a nobody." “Nobody here is a nobody,” she said. “I'm Charla. Who are you?" Linda had glanced my way and seen Charla plunk her bottom into the chair next to mine. Her gaze narrowed slightly, but she continued her meeting. “I'm Ed,” I said. “Escort to the brunette talking with those guys in the corner.” I indicated Linda. “But I really am a nobody. No rank, no pull." Charla grinned. “But you definitely aren't a rental, are you?" “Nope. I'm definitely not a rental." “A friend? A husband?" “A friend." Charla reached to set her drink on the table in a manner that put her leg firmly against mine, then asked, “A special friend?" I nodded. “A special friend. And your special friend is watching us, Charla." She turned to see her Senator boyfriend trying to appear dispassionate as he watched us and danced with his wife. She seemed unconcerned as she gave him a little wave and turned back to me. “You know about him, huh? Well, he's history,” she said. “I think he's finally realized it, too. How special are you two, Ed? I mean, she's over there with a crowd and you're over here by yourself. What does that mean?" “It means I'm not part of that group or her work, Charla. Nothing more." She laughed. “I know that feeling well enough. That's why I'm here at your table tonight. It seems that I'm not part of the Senator's group this evening."

I thought about that. “Carrington, North Dakota is a long way from DC. If he didn't bring you, how did you get here?" Charla smiled and said, “We've been here for a week. Monday we go back. I'm on someone's staff, of course." Linda had apparently excused herself and was heading our way, smiling and nodding her way through the crowd. I rose to meet her and introduce Charla, but when Linda arrived at our table she handed me her empty glass as she said, “Hello, Charla. I'm Linda. I'll assume you already know Ed, here. Ed, I seem to have run out of dry martini. Could you..?" I was supposed to take the glass and get her a refill. Instead, I handed Linda's glass to a passing waiter and said, “Martini, dry,” and offered Linda my seat. Linda looked at me for a moment, then sat down facing Charla and said, “I know who you are, sweetie. I know what you are, too, so don't think you'll get away with anything at this table. Do your fishing somewhere else." Linda then turned to me and asked, “Didn't you know she's a Senator's toy? Are you trying to buy us some trouble? I don't want to see you talking to her again, Ed. Not even talking to her. We don't need this kind of crap." I just stood there for a moment, looking at her finger poking my midriff. She removed it after another moment, but her demeanor remained the same. “Linda,” I asked, “Can we get the hell out of here? I'm ready to call it a night and I think we need to talk." Linda stood up and faced me at a scant distance, then enunciated every word separately as she whispered, “We will leave when I say so, Ed." “This is turning into the same kind of thing that broke us up in Germany, Linda. Loosen up or it will happen again. I'll talk to whomever I damned well please." “Not while you're with me, you won't." “With you? If you'd been with me she wouldn't have come near me. What's this 'with you' crap? You're always huddled with the office people. Don't you get enough of them at the office? Take a goddamned night off once in a while." Linda looked at Charla and said, “Are you flattered because this little political golddigger shook her ass at you? How long do you think that would last?" I shrugged. “I told her I was a political nobody. If she doesn't believe me now, she would soon enough. At the moment, you're my problem, Linda. You don't order me around. You don't tell me who I can chat with at a party, and you don't drag me to any more of these godawful-boring political gatherings." Linda seethed in my face briefly, then said, “Maybe I should find another ride home, Ed. I'm sure one of the office guys could spare the time, and you seem less than thrilled to be here." “It's your call, Linda. Most of the office guys would jump at the chance, and I'd rather be old friends again someday than wear a tux and a figurative leash and collar for you at these damned things." After a long look at me, Linda said in a flat tone, “So be it, then." With an angry glance at Charla, she stalked off to rejoin the office group. I waved at them and smiled. Charla sipped her drink and eyed me contemplatively as I sat back down. The waiter arrived with the martini I'd ordered for Linda. I took it and thanked him, then put it on the table.

“Is that a martini you're drinking, Charla?" “That it is." I moved the glass over to her side of the table. She continued to regard me in that quiet manner as I took a sip of my scotch. I grinned and asked, “Well, now do you believe that I'm a nobody?" Charla shook her head. “No. You just told off the head of security for the entire Amara project. I knew who she was when you pointed her out." “I had to let her be the one to close the door, Charla. We're old friends and our latest relationship was getting stale. Maybe we'll be old friends again because she was the one to call it off tonight." Charla nodded. “She was right about me, Ed. I'm a golddigger." I shrugged. “There's a market for ambitious young women. Are you good at anything outside the bedroom?" She gave me a small smile. “Oh, yes. I could open my own law practice or join a firm, but that would be the hard way up the ladder. Besides, I really do like powerful older men, so things work out just fine." “Guess they would. Well, Charla, my glass is empty and my tenure as escort has come to an end, so I think it's time for me to head for the roof." Charla looked at me oddly. “The roof?" I nodded. “Yup. Gonna call my ride and have her pick me up." Charla looked more than a little confused. “Her? Her who? I thought you drove Linda here or came in a limo. If you didn't, why does she need someone else to take her home?" I let my gaze begin at Charla's feet and travel the length of her until our eyes met. She knew she looked fabulous and had been looked at in that manner often enough to meet my gaze without the slightest hint of blush. “Charla, are you really ending it with your Senator friend?" She nodded. “I am." “Were you attracted to me, or just fishing for a replacement ladder?" “Some of each. Are you about to invite me to go with you?" “Oh, yes. Definitely. Some women are just pretty. Some make a man feel hungry. You're one of the ones in the latter category." Charla regarded me thoughtfully. “What about my escort, Daniel?" “Have him get the waiter's number and I'll walk you both out to keep up appearances. I can call my ride from the parking lot just as easily. You and Danny head for the bar down the road. I'll meet you in the parking lot there." “Would you mind if I have Danny wait with me?" “No problem, as long as you don't want to bring him along with us." “Where would we be going?"

“Wherever you want to go, and I guarantee you a ride home later, no matter what we do or we don't do. I won't run out of gas or force you into anything." I stood up and slipped into my jacket, then met her gaze again. “I'll tell you the same thing I told Linda. It's your call, Charla. No strings." Charla stood up and said, “Wait here. No, come with me. Let's get Danny." After we told Danny we were all leaving together, he took a minute to hand the waiter a bit of paper, then walked out with us. They got into his car, a late-model rental, and drove off. I called Stephie down to pick me up and told her to follow them to the bar at an altitude of about a hundred feet. The valet crew stood stunned by the building as Stephanie and I floated away. They parked toward the edge of the lot and turned their lights off. I dropped to within twenty feet of their car and watched through the side window as they had a heated exchange of words. “Stephie, can you hear what they're saying?" “Yes, Ed. Would you like me to make their conversation audible?" “Yes, Stephie, thanks." Danny's voice was suddenly saying, “...fucking crazy, Charla. You don't know anything about him. What if this is a setup? Tom knows you're thinking about leaving him." “Danny, maybe it is a setup. If Tom's behind this, so what? He's worried about blackmail and he wants some insurance to keep me quiet. I told him I wasn't like that, but he probably wouldn't believe that about anyone." I said, “Stephie, move around to the front of their car. Drop to their car's roof level and open the canopy with the lights on. Let's let them see us." When Stephie seemed to materialize from the darkness ahead of their car, they both seemed to freeze as they stared at us. I smiled and waved to Charla, then told Stephie to take us around to Charla's side of the car. When Danny panicked and reached to start the car, Charla tried to stop him. “Stephie,” I said, “Can you keep him from starting that car? If so, do so." “Yes, Ed." Danny swatted Charla's hands away and twisted the key. Nothing happened. They argued some more as Danny tried again and again to start the car. At last both of them were sitting more or less still and staring at Stephie and me again. “Stephie, settle to within six inches of the surface, but do it very slowly, like at an inch a second or so." “Yes, Ed." I put a hand on the edge of the deck and vaulted to the ground, then walked the few yards to the car. “Hi, guys. I'll let you start the car in a minute, Danny. Really. I just think we ought to talk first." Their attention alternated between me and the slowly descending flitter behind me. I said, “Danny, I'm not working for the Senator or anyone else. I want to take the lovely Charla, here, on a magic carpet ride and see if she likes this older man in particular, but that's all. Is that okay with you?" Danny simply stared and said nothing. I looked at Charla.

“Charla? What do you say?" Danny shook himself and grabbed Charla's arm. He whispered, “Remember Chappaquiddick? Do you really believe it was an accident?" Charla turned to look at him, then turned back to me. “Uh ... I don't think so, Ed. I don't know who or what you are, but I know that things can happen to people when politicians get scared." I looked at them both for another moment, then nodded. The music leaking from the bar had a retrodisco beat when some people came out. They stopped and stared at Stephie across the parking lot. “Stephie, I'll be in the bar for a while. Station yourself twenty miles up and let Danny start his car. I'll call you when I'm ready." “Yes, Ed.” Stephie closed her canopy and rose out of sight almost instantly. I gave Charla one of my WiccaWorks business cards and a little salute and said, “See ya,” then started walking toward the bar. For several seconds nothing happened, then I heard the car starting behind me. Apparently Danny was over his panic attack. They backed out and left quickly, but they didn't leave a trail of burned rubber. The people by the door moved well away as I approached. I ignored them. Timid people bug me. None of them followed me into the bar. A Donna Summer remix was thumping to an ending and a similar-sounding tune was cranking up as I walked into the bar. I stopped to order an Ice House, then found a place to stand where I could watch the action on the dance floor. Maybe half an hour later I swigged the last of my beer and leaned against a column, debating whether or not to stay. It didn't seem as if anyone I could see in there was over thirty and I must have stood out like a James Bond wannabe in that damned tux. I took off my tie and put it in a pocket, then reached under my jacket to undo the cummerbund and handed it to a passing waitress with my beer bottle. She looked at the cummerbund questioningly. “Just get rid of it, please,” I said. “I won't want it back later." She looked at me oddly, but nodded and started to leave with it. A hand reached around me to pluck it off her tray and a familiar voice said, “I'll take it." I turned to find Charla standing behind me. Standing somewhat behind her was Danny. Charla was looking up at me and Danny seemed to be trying to look everywhere at once. Charla asked, “Surprised to see me?" I nodded. “Yup. Very. I thought you two were long gone." “We were!” Danny yelled over the music. “But she made me bring her back!" I nodded again. “Let's find a table." I tapped the arm of a passing waitress and pointed to one of the empty tables in the back. She listened to our orders and held up two fingers, then hurried on. As I seated Charla and sat down with her, Danny slid into a chair on her other side. “First round's on me,” I said. “I figure that by the time we need a second round, we'll know if we want one or not." Danny asked, “How did you know we thought you might be working for the Senator?" I held up a finger, then pointed to my watch and said, “Stephie, play back the conversation in the car,

please." Danny's voice was again saying, ” ... fucking crazy, Charla. You don't know anything about him. What if this is a setup? Tom knows you're thinking about dropping him." "Danny, maybe it is a setup. If Tom's behind this, so what? He's worried about blackmail and he wants some insurance to keep me quiet. I told him I wasn't like that, but he probably didn't believe me." I said, “Thanks, Stephie. That's enough." To Danny and Charla, I said, “I was listening as I landed. It's always nice to know what you may be getting into." The waitress appeared with our drinks. When she left, Danny seemed ready to say something, but Charla nudged him to silence. She said, “Even the Senator doesn't have access to a flitter yet. How is it you can go cruising in one?" “It's mine, that's how. It belongs to me. Her name is Stephanie." Charla seemed incredulous. “You actually own it?" “I actually own it." Danny leaned slightly forward and said, “I don't believe that." I smiled and said, “I don't care what you believe, Danny. You aren't my type. I care what Charla believes." Danny huffed up and said, “Well she doesn't believe you, either." I looked at Charla, who shook her head slightly and said, “Yes she does, Danny. Ed came to the party with Linda Baines. He says they're old friends." Danny's jaw dropped and he muttered, “Oh, shit! Really?" He looked frantic for a second, then he whispered in Charla's ear. She smiled at him and said, “I know she used to work for the agency, sweetie. She probably still does in some capacity." Charla turned to me and asked, “How about that, Ed?" “Couldn't say. All I can tell you is that she handles Amaran security, which you already knew." Danny took most of his drink in one gulp, shook his head violently, and said, “Oh, damn, damn, damn. Charla, this is a bad, bad thing. Let's go. Now." I reached across, placed my hand over his drink as he started lifting it again, and politely said, “Please shut up, Danny. You're scared and you don't know what the hell you're talking about. I don't work for anyone. I was Linda's boyfriend and escort, nothing more, and that ended tonight partly due to Charla's presence. Your only danger is the possibility that you'll run into something in a mindless panic." Danny huffed up again and glared at me as I removed my hand from his drink. Charla giggled. “Well,” said Danny, “He'd say something like that anyway, you know." Charla giggled again and patted his arm. “Think about it, Dan-Dan. Then think about it some more. Hit men don't let their targets drive away so they can go have a beer." Danny glared at me again. I grinned and said, “She has a good point, there, Danny. A good hit man would do the targets first, then

do the beer somewhere else." Danny wasn't convinced. “You could just be trying to separate us. You could use her and dump her somewhere nobody'd ever find her." “I won't use her unless she allows it and I'll give her a ride home in any case, Danny. Scout's honor, and all that stuff. Want her to call you every hour? That'll have to do, ‘cause you aren't coming along." Charla raised both hands and laughingly said, “Wait, guys. Just hang on a minute, here. Danny, you've done your duty and I'm a big girl. I'll see you tomorrow or I'll call you from somewhere, okay?" Danny's tone dropped to one of flat resignation. “You're gonna do it, aren't you? You're going with him, aren't you?" “I am,” said Charla. “Thank you for caring so much about me, Danny. I really mean that. But I'll be fine. I really will. Okay?" He turned sullen. “No. It's not okay. I'll be worried sick, Charla..." I tapped on the table. “Danny, she'll be okay. I promise. Now drop it." Danny looked at Charla almost pleadingly. She shook her head and said, “I'll be okay, Danny. Thanks again." Charla sipped the rest of her martini and said to me, “I'll be back in a minute, then we can go." As she got up, I asked, “Anywhere in particular, ma'am?" She shook her head again and said, “No. Nowhere in particular yet. Let's just go for a ride in your Stephanie first." Charla headed for the restroom with the kind of quick, short stride that put everything in motion and made her legs stand out beneath the fabric of her skirt. Danny watched me watch her and said, “Oh, yes, I've seen that look before." When I turned to look at him, he put his hands up and said, “I meant that in the nicest way, of course. I just meant that ... Well, Charla gets a lot of looks." “Uh, huh. Yeah, well, I guess she does, at that." When Charla returned I got up to accompany her to the door. Danny followed, of course. I turned around briefly along the way and stuck my almost-new beer inside my jacket, then got the door for Charla. When we got outside, I said, “Stephie, meet us in the parking lot, please." Seconds later Stephie settled to hover next to us. I handed Charla in, then stepped in myself and put my beer on the deck by the console. Danny stood by his car looking like a lost puppy. Charla looked at me questioningly. “Oh, hell,” I said. “Come on, Danny. We'll buzz around a bit and drop you back here before we leave, okay?" He hesitated. “I've never been in a small airplane before,” he said. “In that case, find something to use as a barf bag before you get in, and don't let Stephie hear you call her a 'small airplane'." Charla snickered. The snicker turned in to a laugh.

Danny glowered for a moment. I said, “I'm not kidding about the bag. You've been drinking and I don't want to see what you've been eating since breakfast splattered on my deck." Danny looked around the lot, then snapped his fingers and opened his car's trunk to dig out a gym bag. He dumped out the contents and held it up. I nodded. “Keep that on your lap at all times and sit next to Charla in case she needs it, too. Stephie is a bit more than a regular airplane. To show you what I mean, I'm going to have her do a roll. Right here and right now. Are you ready?" “Belts!” blurted Danny, frantically searching around his seat, “SEAT BELTS?!" “Don't need ’em. Try to get up." I watched them both attempt to get up and then struggle to do so. As they struggled, I picked up my beer, sipped it, then put it back by the console. “Stephie, take us up to twenty feet and gently tilt us to port seventy-two degrees, please. We're going to see who's flying with us or not." “Yes, Ed." She did so. Charla and Danny gave little screeches and gripped their seats. After a moment, Charla slapped Danny's arm and pointed at my beer. It had remained by the console as if glued to the deck. Danny stared at the beer bottle, then looked up at me. “Stephie, let's complete the roll. Make it last twenty seconds. We don't want to upset anyone too much more than we already have." “Yes, Ed." Charla and Danny again gripped their seats as the roll commenced. The beer bottle and I remained standing by the console and the beer remained in the bottle as we rolled completely inverted and then back toward upright and level. Danny was breathing pretty hard by then, but at some point he realized the gym bag was still in his lap. He glanced at Charla's purse in her lap, then at me. I shrugged and said, “That's how it works. Stuff stays where you put it. Are you doing okay, Danny? You, Charla?" I received terse nods from each and one very tersely muttered, "Fine" from Charla. By then we were approaching the upright position. “Good enough, then. Does anybody want to get off, or should I take us for that ride now?" “I need to pee,” said Danny. Charla giggled again. “Stephie, let us down. Okay, Danny. Whoops, wait a minute. It's your turn to buy a round. Charla, will you drink a beer?" Charla nodded rather distractedly as she studied the flitter. “Okay, Danny. Three Ice Houses. They won't want you taking the beer outside, but once you've got ’em, just run for the flitter. I guarantee they can't catch us." Charla gave a sharp laugh. Danny just stared at me from his seat.

I said, “Uh, you're not stuck to your seat anymore, Dan. You can get up now. Three Ice Houses. To go." Danny looked at Charla. She made an impatient gesture with her hands and said, “Yeah, yeah. Go. Go. Hurry." “You'll wait for me? Really?" “Danny,” I said, “Go pee. Buy us some beer. Haul ass. Now, please." He seemed to make up his mind and gingerly got out of his seat. Charla again urged him to get moving, which he did. As he trotted to the door of the bar I asked her if she thought he'd hold together in flight. “I think so, Ed. He didn't barf during the roll. If not, he's got his baggie." “Make sure he uses it if he comes unglued. He seems a bit excitable." “Are you just saying that because he's gay?" I looked at her and laughed. “Hell no. I'm saying it because he seems pretty excitable. He was ready to bolt from the parking lot and then the table. We'll take a short run, bring him back here to his car, and then figure out where to go. By the way, ma'am, if it comes to that, you use the bag, too." She gave me a sour look and said, “I won't need it. Your flitter has an unusual voice, Ed. I've heard it before. Someone from TV? The movies?" “Movies. Jessica Rabbit, but I toned her down a bit." Charla just looked at me for a moment, then started laughing. “I ... I'm sorry, but I never would have guessed!" “Sure you would have, sooner or later. She's done some other good stuff, too. Fact is, I can't think of a movie she's made that wasn't good or good enough." Chapter Twenty-Nine I waited a few minutes, then moved Stephie nearer to the bar's door. Not long after that, Danny came running out with three beer bottles dangling from his hands. He jumped aboard, dropped into his seat, and said, “Go! Go! I think they saw me take the beer outside!" I grinned at Charla and said, “Stephie, take us to three hundred feet quickly." We were there so quickly that my passengers had to look over the side to believe it. Two guys came trotting out of the bar as I took the beers from Danny's nerveless fingers. I set two of the beers on the deck by their seats and put mine by the console. My first bottle was empty, so I told Steph to hover over the dumpster and I let it fall when the drop looked right. The dumpster was empty, so it made a horrendous noise. As the two guys came running around the back of the building, I told Steph to take us up to one mile of altitude and head us toward Carrington, which was thirty miles away and visible in the distance as a cluster of light. “At what speed, Ed?" “Six hundred, Steph." “Yes, Ed." The lights of Carrington seemed to grow and spread like tentacles as the streets and buildings became more visible. Three minutes later we were hovering over the center of town. Danny said, “God, I wish I had my camera for this..."

His words trailed off as he turned to Charla. She smiled and patted his hand and said, “Maybe you can bring your camera next time, Danny." When she looked up at me questioningly, I shrugged and sipped my beer. “Sure, if I'm still here tomorrow, we'll go up again. After all that happened before you guys came back to the bar, I was going to go back home to Florida and mope on the beach tomorrow." Danny laughed. “Yeah, I can just see that happening." Charla laughed too, then sipped her beer. She stood up, made a production of straightening her dress from top to bottom, patted her hair as if it might be out of place somehow, and faced me. “Oh, lordy,” said Danny. “Stand back, everybody, she's turning it on!" Charla gave him a condescending smile and asked me, “What might possibly be enough to keep you here for another day, Ed?" “Well, you might try making me an offer I can't possibly refuse, ma'am." She looked at Danny with an expression of mischievous innocence. “Danny, whatever do you think he could mean by that?" Danny gave us both a weary glance and said, “Oh-ho ... Nothing I've got, sweetie, but everything you've got. That man has a thing for you." Charla turned back to me, sighed deeply, and said, “Well, then, I guess I'll just have to give in so that poor little Danny can get another ride in the flitter and take his pictures. He'd just be heartbroken, you know. Absolutely heartbroken." Danny gave her a look of vast suffering and said, “Oh, yes. Heartbroken. That's her Betty Davis, Ed. Can you believe this shit?" “Not for a minute, Danny, but don't let her know that until afterwards, okay?" Charla grinned at me, then lightly smacked Danny on the head as she whispered loudly, “If you ever want to go shopping with me again, you'll help me catch this one." Danny quickly sat up, rubbed his head, and said, “Oh, yes, ma'am! I'll be fucking heartbroken, Ed! Really!" I laughed and said, “You two should work up an act and play Vegas. Stephie, circle the city twice in half an hour, then head us back to the bar parking lot, please." “Yes, Ed." I slung my jacket on the back of the seat next to Charla and sat down to watch the show with them. There's something about flying over a city at night that is fascinating, no matter how many times you do it. About halfway through the maneuver, Danny said, “You just tell the flitter what to do and she does it? What happens if someone else tells her to do something?" “Try it and see." Danny just looked at me. I realized he wasn't sure whether my words had been a challenge of some sort. “Danny, what I meant was that she's keyed to me. You wouldn't be able to make her do anything." He gave an enlightened nod and seemed relieved.

“But what if something happens to you? How do we get down?" “If something happened to me, Stephie would head for the nearest hospital in her data banks and begin broadcasting a distress call on the way. She'd tell those who answer such calls where she was going and why, and they'd call the hospital to let them know what to do. That kind of programming is in all of the personal flitters." When we dropped Danny at his car, he made Charla promise to tell him all the juicy details later. Once we were back in the sky, Charla said she wanted to go to her hotel. She said, “I want something to eat, something to drink, a bath, and you. We're both free tonight, Ed. Let's make the most of our freedom while we have it, because it never lasts. By this time next week I'll be in DC, looking for a new ladder." “I won't ask if it really has to be that way for you. You're bright enough to figure that out for yourself and your answer would have to suit your needs, not my opinions. Tell Stephie which hotel and she'll find it." The hotel was downtown, of course, so we wound up flying back to Carrington and maneuvering among the taller buildings to land in one of the pay parking lots near the hotel. The attendant only gaped briefly as we settled to Earth. He walked over, looked carefully at Stephie, and said, “That's gonna take up six spaces, at least. You want the all-night rate?" I said, “No, thanks. Stephie, wait upstairs, please." “Yes, Ed." She rose so quickly that street trash tried to follow her some distance into the sky. As the stuff rained back to the ground, the attendant's face fell open and Charla giggled as we walked toward her hotel. The desk clerk picked up the phone as we entered and spoke to someone, then hung up. When we got off the elevator we found two men in conservative suits waiting by her door. I pulled the stunner out of my back pocket as we approached and tucked it up my right sleeve. Without preamble, one of them said, “Miss Perrin, the man is unhappy." “He should be,” said Charla. “I'm quitting. If there's nothing else, I'd like you both to leave." The other elevator door opened and a couple came out. They only glanced at us before heading down the hallway to their room. Neither man said anything more until the couple had entered their room. “We can't do that, ma'am. The man wouldn't like us to leave you alone until he's had a word with you." Charla looked at me and said, “I didn't think it would go this far." I held my coat open so they could see I had no gun and said, “Would it help if I showed you guys some ID?" I reached into my coat pocket as the spokesman for the pair was saying, “No, it wouldn't. Miss Perrin, open the door and let's all go in and get comfortable." Charla glanced at me and I shrugged. That put the stunner in my hand. I went in ahead of Charla and the two men followed us in. As soon as the door closed, I turned and stunned them both twice. “How the hell did you do that?” she asked. “Magic,” I said. I checked for guns and found three. One guy had a .32 in an ankle holster. Both had badges, too, from a

town near DC. I handcuffed them together, each man's wrist to the other man's ankle, put their guns on one of the beds, and asked Charla what she wanted to do next. “Leave,” she said, “But first I want to pack and call the Senator." I put her six bags by the door when they were ready. The two guys were slowly waking up and discovering their predicament. The sight of Charla dialing the room phone seemed to wake them more quickly. When they saw their guns on the bed, one of them looked at his holster. The other didn't bother. Charla's voice behind me said, “Hello, Senator. Your goons will be just fine in a little while. No, you listen, sport. I have tapes and I have pictures. Your wife knows you fool around, but your adoring public doesn't. Leave me alone or my friends mail copies of everything to the media. Yes, friends, as in more than one. I told you I didn't want anything from you that I didn't already have. That's right. Nothing. Just let me alone. If you send anyone else or anything happens to me, you're going to be a cheesy footnote in American history." I tossed a cuff key to them and said, “Tonight, you're redcaps. On your feet and grab those bags. We're going downstairs. No talking, guys. You've got nothing to say that I want to hear." One of them moved at me as soon as he was halfway onto his feet. I stunned him lightly and his legs gave out in mid-lunge. “Look, guys, I could knock you out and leave you naked in the hall, chained together like good buddies, and turn your guns and badges in at the front desk on our way out. How would that look in the news? You can cooperate and save yourselves some trouble. We just want to leave and we want some help with her luggage, okay? The guns and badges stay here, but we'll give you the room key when we let you go." Charla was on the phone again, but this time it was a cell phone. “Hi, it's me! I'm back at the room and two of the Senator's men were here to meet me. I don't know. Probably just to scare me and get rid of my new friend. No, we're fine. We're leaving now. I just wanted to let you know what was going on. Yes. I'll call you every day and you know what to do if I don't. Okay! Bye, sweetie!" I thought a moment. Linda was always in need of political pressure points. “Charla, dial a number for me and bring me that phone, please." I gave her the number and waited three rings until Linda answered. “The Senator,” I said. “Goons with guns. Interested?" Linda said, “Talk." I told her what had happened in the room and asked if the Senator had been kind to her and the factory project as a whole. Linda said she'd send some people over and that we should wait in the room. Before I could agree, she hung up. “Change of plans,” I said to Charla. “We wait a few minutes, then leave." Fifteen minutes later, Linda showed up with four people; three men and a woman. They bagged the hardware on the bed and took charge of the Senator's men, then Linda had each of us dictate a quick report. Charla didn't mention calling anyone other than the Senator, so I didn't, either. When Linda asked whether or not Charla wanted protective custody, Charla said she thought she probably already had some of that and indicated me.

Linda didn't bat an eye at that. She said, “Sitreps daily as long as she's with you, Ed. Let us know if she needs cover. This is business. We'll leave watchers in case the Senator sends anyone else tonight when he doesn't hear from his people. Are you staying or going?" I looked at Charla. She looked around, shuddered, and said, “Going." Linda nodded, then herded her crowd out of the room. Charla said, “I knew it. You work for her, don't you?" “Nope. Used to. That's why she's helping us. I did her a favor just now by calling and she's doing us a favor by offering backup. She's got enough with those two goons and our statements to work the Senator. We aren't really necessary." That's when Charla surprised me. She tossed her light jacket on one of the beds, turned around, and said, “Unzip me." I did so while asking, “We're staying?" “Sure. The room's paid for and people are watching the halls. I only said 'going' so she wouldn't bother bugging the room. I don't perform for strangers." Charla grinned up at me as she slipped out of her shoes, then her dress. “This has all been very exciting, don't you think, Ed? I know I'm excited." I looked at her trim, athletic body and her bright smile and said, “Oh, yes. Very exciting, ma'am. Here, let me help you with the rest of it, too." Epilogue Charla wound up spending a couple of weeks in Florida with me while the situation with the Senator was quietly resolved. I'd expected her to be packed and ready to go the day after receiving the news that the problem was over, but that wasn't the case. She opted for another week, timing her departure with some impending social event in DC that seemed to me to be mostly an opportunity for her to get back in the saddle up there. Linda let someone else in her office handle all my communications about Charla during that time, and when Charla left for Washington, that person handled my final call to let them know she was gone, as well. That left Bear and me as the only flesh-and-blood denizens of the house in Spring Hill, and there really wasn't much to demand chunks of my time, so I was able to get to know Stephanie's flight characteristics and other capabilities pretty well over the next few months. Elkor had split himself into two separate entities; a partial copy to remain on Earth and his original matrix to take the ship core back to Amara. He said that he'd been allowed to inform only three people of his actions and that none of those people were allowed to know where his second self was based. He said, “It would be too big a risk, Ed. I'm not invulnerable and I lack many of the protective capabilities that were part of me when the ship was here." “Do the Amarans know you're here?" “Only one Amaran on Earth knows at present, although I'd expect him to let some of the others know

as a safety measure. In order to acquire permissions to split myself, I had to agree to some stipulations. One of them was to self-destruct if my location was discovered or if anyone found a way to bypass any of my security protocols. It's an embedded feature that I'd prefer not to have, but because of it I'm allowed to stay here." The field hardware that had been installed in my house remained. One day I realized that it was time for termite retreatment and was about to call to have it done, but Elkor told me it really wasn't necessary. No bugs of any sort had been allowed into the house since the day the field generators had been installed. I thanked him and told him to keep up the good work, but I also told him that a regular treatment record would be easier to explain if I ever wanted to sell the place, then I called the exterminators anyway. It's been quiet enough that I've been able to get another book to E-press and take care of some trivia like running a garage sale and cleaning house really well for the first time in years. I don't expect the quiet to last long, though. It never does. —End 3rd World Products, Inc., Book 1— Other titles from Abintra Press: **** SCIENCE FICTION "3rd World Products, Inc., Book 1" "3rd World Products, Inc., Book 2" "3rd World Products, Inc., Book 3" "3rd World Products, Inc., Book 4" "An Encounter in Atlanta" "Assignment: ATLANTA" (A Sandy Shield Novel!) "Bitten and Smitten” (Vampires!) "HUNT CLUB” (Vampires!) "In Service to a Goddess, Book 1" "In Service to a Goddess, Book 2" "In Service to a Goddess, Book 3" "In Service to a Goddess, Book 4" "STARDANCER" **** FICTION-EROTICA-ROMANCE "Anne" "Dragonfly Run" "Field Decision"

"Kim" "Mindy" **** COMING SOON: "3rd World Products, Inc., Book 5" "ANSEN" "Crystal River Witch" **** An index to articles and ebooks may be found on our website: abintrapress.tripod.com Abintra Press!

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