Book 3: 3rd World Products, Inc (11 page)

After the door closed behind me, I heard the woman almost scream, “
One goddamned lousy little coin?!
What the hell's wrong with you, George? Why didn't you take that case?"

George said, “It really wrinkles your ass, doesn't it, Louise? What's the matter? Afraid you might miss a few bucks in your next alimony check?"

With a smile, I left the doorway to approach the ladies, who were just beginning their journey through a stack of government forms. I took one of the gold bars out of the box and set it on her desk.

Mrs. Javitz looked up and said, “Half an hour or so, then I can have her sign everything and let her go."

Mrs. Javitz photographed the gold bar twice with an instant-picture camera, then made out another receipt and stapled it to one of the pictures before handing it to me.

"Thanks,” I said, then to Stephie, “See you later, miLady. Use my address and phone as contacts, but not as local residence info. Let any correspondence come through this office."

Mrs. Javitz seemed perplexed. “But I thought you came together."

"We did,” said Steph.

"Well, don't you need a ride back to Spring Hill?"

Steph shook her head and said, “I'll be in the flitter with him while I'm here with you. When we're finished, I'll delete this image."

Mrs. Javitz sat very still for a moment, then drew herself upright and said, “Oh. I see. Yes. Well, I guess we should get to work, then."

I left them to their task and headed for the elevators. There were too many people around to talk to Steph, so I waited until I was outside on the sidewalk. The flitter was descending to the street as I spoke.

"Helluva trick, Steph. You've never split yourself like that before."

"I never had a reason to do it like that before. Convincing Mr. Wilmot quickly seemed to me to be a good reason."

As soon as I'd put the box down and taken a seat, the flitter started rising. I ignored the people who were staring from the sidewalks and windows and reached for a Dr Pepper. Someone on about the eighth floor of a nearby building was taking pictures.

Steph said, “Mrs. Wilmot just left the office. She seemed very upset."

"She's a greedy hog who thinks George just turned down a big piece of gold."

"Why did you give her that impression, Ed?"

"Hard to say, Steph. She seemed to need a poke in the snout. Apparently George didn't tell her otherwise, so he must have agreed with me."

Chapter Eleven

As I prepared for a weekend away from home, Steph materialized a field and put up some pictures of various female volleyball players in the midst of doing dramatic things to spike or save the ball. She then told me that she felt that she'd be able to hold her own in a conversation about the game.

"...And, lo, it came to pass...” I intoned, leaving the rest of the quote unspoken.

"What is that supposed to mean?” asked Steph. “Can't I show a little interest in something without being teased for it?"

"Stephie, you've never showed one whit of interest in volleyball or any other team sport since I've known you. Why now?"

"I thought you might appreciate it if I shared an interest in things that interest you, Ed. Was I wrong?"

"Only partly. Volleyball doesn't interest me any more than any other team sport, either. I go because Selena's playing and everyone wears bikinis. Can't say as I give a damn who wins, other than how it affects Selena."

"So I've wasted my time by gathering this information?"

"As far as I'm concerned, yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. It could come in handy if you want to win some bar bets, I guess. By the way, you do realize that popping in and out will be by request only during some parts of the weekend, right?"

Steph said, “Of course. I could remain aboard the flitter, if you'd prefer, Ed. Would you rather I didn't attend the game, as well?"

"I didn't say that, did I? I'm just talking about my private time with Selena, not the game, and you know it. Sure, Steph. Come along. I like having you with me."

"Are you sure that you don't mean that you like how my presence affects others?"

"Well, that, too, but think of all the times we've knocked around by ourselves, Steph. I sure as hell don't need other people around to appreciate you."

She popped into being beside me as I was making a coffee for the road. I didn't look up from spooning a precise amount of instant coffee into my mug.

"Thank you, Ed. You've always made me feel special."

As I reached for the hot water, I said, “That's ‘cause you are, miLady."

"I think I've come up with the appropriate outfit to wear to the game. Would you like to see it?"

"Sure, Steph."

I glanced up and smiled at her, then realized what I'd just seen and took another look. Stephie was wearing a
'well, what do you think of this?'
expression and a subdued, emerald-flake bikini.

My gaze traveled from her emerald slippers up her legs and torso to her face. The word ‘perfect’ seemed totally inadequate to describe her. I wondered how many times she'd been reading my responses as I'd watched a movie in order to determine precisely what sort of female figure appealed most to me.

"Well,” I said, trying to gather my thoughts and take my eyes off her thighs. “Jesus, that's some outfit, Steph. What's the occasion?"

She looked slightly puzzled as she said, “The game, Ed. You said everyone would be wearing bikinis. I took that to mean only the women, of course, since men don't..."

"Steph, only the women
players
will be wearing bikinis."

Her expression changed to one of abashed surprise. I knew that she was verifying my answer in the split-second before she said, “If I had reviewed Selena's other games, I'd have known that. You must sometimes think that I'm a complete idiot."

I shook my head slightly and said, “No. You're right, I did say ‘everyone', and we caught the error before it could happen in public, not that it wouldn't have been one helluva show. Were you reading me when you appeared in that bikini?"

With a thoroughly innocent expression, she asked, “Should I have been?"

"A yes or no would be more appropriate, ma'am."

She shrugged with a slight tilt of the head—
new move, that
—and said, “Yes."

"Then you already know how you've affected me. Take my reaction as a compliment and put some clothes on. Please."

"But I thought you'd like..."

"No buts, Steph. Just do it, and please don't appear damned near naked around me again. It could become very frustrating for me to see you like that very often."

She materialized her usual casual outfit, a skirt and jacket with a pale green blouse, and stood quietly regarding me as I finished making my coffee.

When I turned to face her again, she grinningly asked, “That good, huh?"

I grinned back at her. “Oh, yeah. That good,” I said. “Stunningly beautiful, but save it for the beach."

Tiger floated into the kitchen on one of Elkor's translucent pads. He was sitting in the center of the disk, his tail curled around his paws, as he studied us.

Elkor's disembodied voice said, “Stephanie, I fail to understand why you felt a need to attempt to impress Ed in that manner."

"I simply misinterpreted his use of the word ‘everyone',” said Steph.

"That seems unlikely. In many other instances, you've correctly inferred the true meaning of his words, to include his use of that particular word."

Stephanie's gaze narrowed.

In a flat tone, she said, “Not this time,” and disappeared.

After a moment, Elkor said, “I see,” and the Tiger-transport pad floated out of the kitchen and back to the living room.

It occurred to me to wonder why Elkor, the more powerful of the two computers and the first to develop an individual personality, didn't also have at least a face of some sort for conversational convenience with humans. Instead, he seemed to prefer being a disembodied voice, a faux-cat companion for Tiger, or some other device like the floating disk. I resolved to ask him about that some time.

I pulled my briefcase down from its usual resting place above my head and put in my datapad, then closed it and thoughtfully watched it disappear. Elkor had asked a valid question. I didn't buy her “confusion over a word” excuse, either. Why had Stephie appeared before me in a bikini?

Just before noon, the phone rang. It was Selena, using her cell phone to call for help. Toni's spare tire was as flat as her left front tire and they were stranded on US-27 a few miles outside of Perry.

"Well, I guess I could maybe swing out that way and see what I can do to help,” I said. “What kind of car will I be looking for?"

"A dark blue, unmoving Mustang."

"A real Mustang? A pre-seventy-two, or one of those little wedgie cars they've been sticking the pony on the last couple of decades?"

"It's a ninety-five, and don't be a vintage snob at a time like this, okay? It's just a car and we have to be in Tallahassee in less than two hours."

"Snob, huh? Spend time in a
real
Mustang, then say that again. Okay. On the way, ma'am. One of you pull the front tire off while you wait and we'll get ‘em both fixed."

"You got it. Thanks, Ed."

"Thank Stephie when you see her, too. She's driving."

"Will do. Bye!"

I grabbed my coffee and some newspapers as I called, “Stephie?"

"I heard. I'm already in the driveway, Ed."

"Thank you, miLady."

"Yahh!” said Tiger, who was curled up on the sofa chair.

"Tiger wants to know if he has to go with you,” said Elkor

"No, he doesn't
have
to, if he'd rather stay here. It might be best if I met Selena's new friend first, anyway. I can ask if she's allergic to cats."

Elkor translated, then Tiger let himself sprawl and seemed to go to sleep. I didn't need to ask if Elkor wanted to come with us. If he had any interest, he could simply monitor events through Stephanie or me or make an appearance.

We headed north on a course to intersect US-27 about ten miles outside Perry. As we neared the highway, Stephie put up a field display. On it were two women—a redhead and a brunette—standing next to a dark blue car. Two tires were lying next to the car.

"They don't seem too distressed,” said Steph.

"No, they don't. Zoom in on them, please, Steph."

She did so, and suddenly the picture was almost life-size. The two tall women were sharing a laugh about something as the brunette—Toni—pointed to something in a magazine. She pointed to something else on another page and the women almost collapsed with laughter. As they sat close together on the shoulder of the road, leaning against the car in what little shade it provided, Toni leaned to kiss Selena on the cheek. Selena turned her face and received another kiss, this time on her lips. It didn't last long, and both women quickly glanced around before they started laughing again.

"They do seem to be enjoying each others’ company, as you said,” said Steph.

"That they do,” I said. “It'll be interesting to see how Toni reacts to us."

"You mean ‘to you’ don't you?"

"No, I mean ‘to us', Steph. You're part of the package unless things get intimate. I'll deal with how she reacts to me later, if at all."

"What do you mean, ‘if at all', Ed?"

We were descending toward the disabled car, unnoticed by either woman.

"I mean, Steph, that Toni may not be interested. I may show up in a flitter and impress her all to hell, but I'm 52, not 22 or 32. Could be she likes ‘em her own age, or blonde and muscular, or maybe she isn't over the last guy yet. By the way, keep an eye on the loose coins on the deck if you aren't going to hide them."

Steph popped into being a foot in front of me looking as if she were heading for an office job. She had an expression of startlement.

"How can you say such a thing...?"

"Just do it, please,” I interrupted. “Hide ‘em or watch ‘em. I'm not saying Toni or Selena would steal any, but people are fallible creatures. How many coins are there?"

"Five hundred and three,” she said.

"If you just cloak them, one of the ladies might trip over them. Better to just let them know up front that you're omniscient."

"But I'm not omniscient, Ed."

"On your own deck, you're as close as anyone needs to come to it. Just remember that we don't know Toni at all and that Selena's only known her for a short while. She may have little quirks, like most other people in this world."

"I see. In that case, I'd rather stack the coins within the bars on the rear deck and conceal the entire load. Should I accompany you like this, or would you prefer to meet with them alone?"

"Your choice, Steph. Either way, I'll have to explain you to Toni sometime."

Steph's image disappeared and she said, “Then I believe I'll remain invisible for the time being, too, and see how things progress. If you'll excuse me..?"

Selena had looked up and spotted us approaching. She stood up and waved excitedly. Toni, on the other hand, simply stared at us rather gapingly as we landed behind the car.

After a big hug, Selena released me and said, “This is Toni. Toni, this is Ed.” Turning to face the flitter, she said, “Hi, Stephanie, this is Toni."

Steph rather mechanically said, “Hello, Selena. Hello, Toni,” and no more. That struck me as rather odd. She was usually fairly enthusiastic about meeting friends and new people. Toni looked somewhat askance at the flitter, apparently taking Steph's response as an automatic response from a voice-operated computer onboard.

I stuck out a hand and said, “Hi, Toni."

Toni had a firm grip that didn't seem contrived and she was one of those people who make eye contact during such moments. I liked that about her instantly. She also had satiny smooth skin over surprisingly solid arms and legs, and I liked that about her, too. If she wasn't quite six feet tall, she was damned close.

"You're an impressive woman,” I said. Turning to Selena, I said, “You seem to have excellent taste, Sel. This lady is absolutely spectacular."

She grinned and reddened slightly. I didn't look to see how Toni took my words. Instead, I folded a couple of pages of newspaper into pads and used them to grip the rims of the two wheels, then tossed them onto the newspapers on Stephie's deck, even as it occurred to me that the papers on her deck were wholly unnecessary, since nothing could stick to or stain her without her consent. That thought made me curious about something.

Other books

Slumber by Samantha Young
SATED: #3 in the Fit Trilogy by Rebekah Weatherspoon
Bacacay by Witold Gombrowicz, Bill Johnston
False Moves by Carolyn Keene
For Our Liberty by Rob Griffith
Angel Fire East by Terry Brooks