Book 3: 3rd World Products, Inc (15 page)

Steph quietly said, “Ed, your readings jumped nearly five percent just now."

"It may be nothing. You tend to create a little excitement wherever you go."

She made her droll, “Uh, huh,” response sound quite natural. “The man in the parking lot?"

"The very same. He just ran to a van and now he's opening the driver's door and getting in.” The guy seemed to disappear for a moment, then became visible again. “I think he just got something from under the seat, Steph, and now he's getting out of the van. Battle stations on general principles. Let's go back outside and wait for him."

"Shouldn't we notify that security guard by the ticket window?"

"If anything happens, he'll get wind of it. If the guy out there
is
coming after us, we need to get away from all these people before he gets here."

"I'm bringing the flitter back down, Ed. We may need close-range field capabilities."

We backtracked along the ticket line until we were able to stand to one side of the doorway and took a look around, but the guy was nowhere in sight. After several moments of standing in front of the block wall, I was almost ready to call it a false alarm and head back inside when my hackles went up. Somebody was watching us intently, and he wasn't far away. I looked carefully around, but I couldn't see whoever was watching us.

In a quiet tone, Steph said, “Someone is standing behind that dense shrubbery to our right. He has a handgun, but it isn't pointed at us."

"That's nice of him. Is it pointed at anyone else?"

"It doesn't appear so. He seems to be waiting for something."

"A clear shot, probably. What do you bet he pops out after those four people heading for the door go inside the building?"

Steph didn't answer. We stayed where we were as the people entered the building, and sure enough, as soon as the inner set of doors had closed, the guy plunged forward out of the bushes and directly at us. He stopped maybe ten feet from us, yanked a pistol out of his belt, and pointed it at us.

"Just hold it right there,” he commanded.

"No problem,” I said. “We've been waiting for you."

"You aren't an Amaran,” he said. “You have scars."

"Amarans can't have scars?” I asked. “Steph, if he starts shooting, disappear or we'll be explaining you to the cops all weekend. Wait for me inside the building. That's where I'll tell people you went."

"Hey! She isn't going anywhere, so shut up. You aren't perfect, but she is, so she's the Amaran."

"I'm
not
perfect? Oh,
damn
! Mother will be so disappointed. Sorry, guy, but you're wrong. She's not an Amaran, either."

"I told you to shut up!” he screamed, pointing the gun at my face.

I shrugged and said, “Sure, man. Whatever you say. No problem. I won't say another word. Five suit
on.
I'll be quiet as a mouse. Mum's the word..."

As I felt my personal shield settle around me, he said, “I said
'shut the fuck up'!
"

He seemed fairly shaken by the fact that we weren't particularly upset by his gun. I heard the slight scrape of the doors behind and to our left as the inner door opened, presumably to let someone through.

Our assailant's eyes flicked toward the doors and he let out a muttered, “Oh, shit!” an instant before he began firing at us.

He fired at least three times at me and three or four at Steph as she vanished. With only the slightest pause in surprise, he aimed at me again and emptied his clip at me. Bullets slammed into the block wall to either side of me and above me, but Steph's field and my five suit shunted them all around me.

Even though the guy was pretty boggled by the fact that Steph was gone and I was unhurt, when the gun's slide locked open on an empty chamber, he fumbled with it to make it snap forward again and pulled the trigger twice more, cursing with frustration.

A campus security vehicle that had been patrolling the parking lot rushed to the end of a row and veered toward us with its siren screaming and lights on. The doors behind us opened and the security guard, accompanied by a man in a blue windbreaker, burst out of the building.

The man in the blue windbreaker shoved the security guard back inside the building as he reached under his jacket and pulled a Glock pistol out of a belly holster.

I sent the strongest cold field that I could manage at my erstwhile assailant's gun hand. The gun cooled so quickly that frost formed on the barrel, and I could only imagine how his hand felt. He screamed and swore and tried to sling the gun away, but it was stuck fast to his hand.

The blue windbreaker guy took a solid aim at my attacker and yelled, “Police! Drop the gun!
Drop
the gun!
Drop the goddamned gun!
"

My assailant raised his gun-encumbered hand and started to say something, but his motion spooked the cop, who fired twice. Both rounds impacted the guy's chest, one of them almost dead center.

The guy went down hard on his back, coughed weakly and wheezed, then lay completely limp and unmoving. The cop very cautiously approached him and tried unsuccessfully to kick the cold gun from the guy's hand. I sent a warming field into the gun as the cop repeatedly tried to kick it loose, and on his fourth attempt, the gun flew free. The cop knelt beside the body to try to find a pulse, but stood up as the campus security car screeched to a stop near by.

The cop in the windbreaker held up a badge as the other cops approached and then rather excitedly told them what had happened. One of the campus cops also checked for a pulse as one of his colleagues radioed in, and the security guard who'd been pushed back inside the building had come outside at some point in proceedings.

After another look at the body, the blue-jacketed guy walked over to me and asked if I was all right.

"I'm fine,” I said. “He missed."

The cop seemed skeptical as he asked, “Are you sure you're okay? Better let me have a look at you. I know I heard at least ten shots."

I pointed upward. “I said I'm fine. If you'll look above us, you'll see a flitter. She put a barrier between me and the gunner. I'm not hurt."

The cop looked up, saw the flitter, and stared openmouthed at it for a moment. He then looked back at me.

"Be damned,” he muttered. “
She
who? Where's the woman who was with you?"

I thumbed at the building behind me. “Inside, somewhere. I was referring to the flitter."

"Why did you stay out here when she went inside?"

"Crowds make me nervous. They don't seem to bother her at all."

The cop looked at me rather oddly for a moment, but he let the explanation pass and asked, “Was this guy alone? Was there anyone else with him?"

I said, “I didn't see anyone else with him."

The cop looked at the wall again, then up at the flitter, and said, “Tell me about this
'barrier'
thing."

I told him a bit of fairly public knowledge about how fields were used for flight and shielding and finished with, “It couldn't stop the bullets, but it could deflect them around me."

"Yeah, I can see that much. Did you know the assailant? Ever see him before?"

I shook my head. “Nope. Total stranger. He just jumped out of those bushes, said something about Amarans, and started shooting."

The cop again seemed to study me closely. “Most people wouldn't be this calm and collected about what just happened."

I shrugged and said, “I wasn't in any danger."

"But you just saw a man killed, too. Most people..."

"Yeah,” I said, “Look, I'm not most people, and you shot a guy who'd been shooting at me. I can live with that."

"Are you an Amaran?"

"Nope. Does that matter?"

After a long, examining look at me, the cop said, “No, I guess it doesn't, really. Come over to the car with me. Some people will want to talk with you."

He indicated the campus cops’ car and walked with me to it, then asked me to get in and wait there until the ‘real’ cops arrived. One of the campus cops overheard his remark and seemed about to say something until one of the others tapped his shoulder. The campus cop bit back whatever he'd been about to say and moved a bit farther away from us. The bluejacket cop closed the car door.

I took the opportunity of relative privacy to say, “Five suit off,” and got zapped by a bright bolt of static electricity that jumped nearly three inches between my arm and the door handle as the suit faded and my polarity adapted to the polarity of the car.

"Steph, we have to come up with some kind of a grounding strap or something. That was one helluva static zap. Good thing I wasn't pumping gas."

Steph chuckled and said, “I'll reprogram your field functions accordingly, Ed. I won't ask why you'd be pumping gas in your five suit."

"Hmm. Good point. Thank you, ma'am."

There were questions, forms to fill out, and more questions. The cops seemed to be having trouble with the idea that I'd just happened to stay outside due to an aversion to crowds. They kept trying to find some plausible link between me and the shooter, but they eventually moved on to other questions. A slightly muted roar from within the building indicated that the volleyball game had gone on without Steph and me.

After nearly an hour, the cops seemed to have all the answers they wanted for the moment and told me to remain available for future questioning, even after I returned to Spring Hill.

An ambulance had arrived and left with the body while I'd been questioned in the back of the cop car. Two university maintenance guys showed up in a golf cart full of cleaning supplies and began scrubbing down the area where the body had been.

Eventually I was allowed to go inside the building. Stephie met me in the hallway just inside the double doors.

"Why did you freeze the gun, Ed? He wasn't able to hurt us and the policeman would have arrested him."

"The guy shot at us, Steph. He tried to kill us just because he thought getting off a flitter without scars made you an Amaran. If he'd somehow gotten away, he'd have done it again someday."

"Can you be so sure of that? Selena and Toni also disembarked from this flitter. Why didn't he shoot at them?"

"He didn't think they were Amarans. They got off the flitter with Selena's game bag and probably marveled a bit as they passed through the field. They may have turned to look back, too, and maybe they said something indicating amazement. We got off looking as if we did it every day, and then the flitter lifted."

"I'm not at all convinced that it was necessary to arrange his death, Ed."

"I am. I don't see any reason to warehouse people who shoot at me, Steph. I've saved the taxpayers a few bucks and eliminated the possibility that this particular homicidal nutcase will ever be back on the street."

The security guard had not returned to his post by the ticket gates. As we passed the ticket windows, a different guard walked out of the men's room. I said that we'd taken a wrong turn. He nodded and waved us along.

Selena saw us coming in and waved. Her team eventually won, and after the furor had died down a bit, the announcer said that a tie-breaker game would be played in Gainesville the following weekend. Selena eased herself out of the press of people and trotted over to give us each a sweaty hug.

I said, “Congratulations on the win, Sel."

"Yes, indeed,” said Steph. “Games seem to be much more interesting if one of the players is a personal acquaintance."

"Thanks!” said Selena, “What kept you?"

Steph glanced at me, but said nothing, so I answered Sel's question.

"Someone caused a ruckus out front and the cops wanted our statements."

"What happened? Are you two okay?” She then slapped her forehead and said, “Oh, hell, of course you are or you wouldn't be standing here."

"Some guy was taken away in an ambulance just as the game started, Sel. Where's Toni?"

"In the restroom. They've taken all the usual post-game pictures, so we can leave as soon as she gets back. Everybody I know is from Gainesville or Inverness, so I'll see them all Monday, anyway. I'll go get cleaned up and meet you out front."

Steph asked, “Are you sure you don't want to stay for a while, Selena? If it's customary to do so after a game..."

Selena shook her head and said, “Nah. They'll just head for a sports bar and get plastered. Bo-ring. Later, guys. I need to get the sweat and sand off me."

As Sel headed for the showers, Toni appeared in the entranceway. The two women chatted for a moment, then Toni came our direction as Sel went into the locker room. Steph and I moved to intercept her on our way to the parking lot, but Toni balked.

"I need to talk to Sel for a minute,” she said. “We'll be along in a little while, okay?"

As Toni moved away up the slight slope to the locker rooms, I watched the fine play of muscles in her legs. Once she was out of sight, I turned to Stephanie to suggest that we head for the flitter and see about a cold beer. Steph seemed to be considering something, so I asked what was on her mind as we walked.

"Ed, I can understand the complex mathematics involved in biological symmetry and motion, but I nonetheless cannot seem to understand your fascination with women's legs."

"What about other bits of human anatomy? No thrill with any of them, either?"

She glanced at me and said, “No.
'No thrill'
, as you put it."

"Hmm. Could be you're just very cerebral, ma'am. Maybe something will come along someday that will strike your fancy. Tell you what, though ... For someone who says that she has no particular fascination with anatomy, you did a magnificent job of constructing the anatomy you're wearing."

As if to support my statement, some guys who were clustered by the front doors stopped talking as we left the building. As we passed their little group, one of them let out a low whistle and another said, “Oh, wooow..."

I grinned at Steph. “See? You have great taste."

"I'll add that to my list of lucky coincidences, speaking of which; what I said to Selena and Toni about my luck didn't embarrass you too much, did it? I noticed your discomfort."