3rd World Products, Inc. Book IV Copyright©2003 by Ed Howdershelt ISBN 1-932693-03-3 Caution: Some Erotic Content Chapter One     Getting rid of half a ton of gold and silver isn't too difficult if your price is right and a guy like Donald Jeffries agrees to handle your international marketing.     Jeffries had wanted to see what he'd be selling and meet the sellers, of course. George Wilmot had called me at home on a Thursday afternoon to set up a meeting the following Wednesday. I'd been making myself a coffee, so Steph fed the call through my comm implant for convenience.     As I put my coffee and my datapad on the kitchen table, Wilmot said, "Jeffries will be flying down from New York on Wednesday for a bit of other business before he returns to Britain. He's a rather cautious man, Ed. Be prepared to answer some questions."     "Questions like whether the gold is really hers to sell?"     "I'm sure that will be one of them in some polite manner, although I've assured him that she appears to be the valid owner. I didn't tell him that Stephanie is also a flitter, however. I thought that might be best left to his own discovery."     "Um. Yeah, likely so. It might even be a good idea to get his skepticism out of the way before we start talking about selling gold. What's his flight number? We could pick him up on the way to your office. By the way, how's progress with Stephie's residency application?"     Wilmot sighed and said, "The wheels of government are turning at their usual snail's pace, Ed. No word yet. But they haven't tried to make us take back the thousand dollar application fee, so that may be a good sign. Just a minute while I get Jeffries' flight number from Mrs. Javitz."     He gave me the flight number, time of arrival, and gate number, then told me that his daughter was on the other line and sounded distraught, so we said goodbye and hung up.     I keyed my comm implant and said, "Steph, maybe we should go meet our prospective gold broker's plane."     She materialized in the chair across from mine with a quizzical expression and said, "You just told Mr. Wilmot that we'd do that. Why are you now making it sound like a new suggestion?"     "Because I'm not talking about meeting the plane at the airport, that's why. According to Wilmot, Jeffries is a skeptic of the first water. I thought we might show him something that would get us past all that without a lot of discussion."     "Something like very visibly flying alongside his plane?" she asked. "Close enough to be seen well enough to be recognized when we meet him at the gate?"     "Yup. Something like that. Gee, you're sharp, lady. I like that."     "Nothing to it," said Steph. "I simply extrapolated your most likely course of action based on my previous experiences with you."     I grinned at her and said, "Well, then, I take back what I said. You're just a pretty computer, after all."     She stuck her tongue out at me almost exactly as Selena might have done and said, "As that may be. Does it bother you to know that you're predictable?"     "Ha. Maybe I'm somewhat predictable to you or Linda. Maybe even to Selena to some degree, but that still leaves the rest of the world guessing."     My watch beeped once. I tapped the answer button and said, "Hi, Linda."     After a moment of silence, she said, "Someday it will be someone else and you'll feel silly as hell, Ed."     A vehicle drove past wherever Linda was. I heard the familiar 'clunk' of a gate arm closing and realized that she was in the base parking lot.     "Not until I give someone else on Earth my comm link, ma'am. What's up? How's your summer going?"     I took a sip of coffee as Linda said, "My summer's rolling along just fine, thanks." The sound of the gate arm rising sounded as she said, "Someone from NASA may contact you soon, Ed."     "Reason?"     "They were just here to try to make a deal about using our flitters to ferry parts to space stations."     "You don't sound enthusiastic about that, Linda."     "I'm not, and the Amarans have strict rules about questionable uses of their products. I've kind of misinformed NASA about our flitters, Ed. I told them that they're just enhanced commercial versions, but they seemed skeptical."     "Hmm. What if they decide not to believe what you told them?"     "Screw 'em, then. Maybe a flitter showed up on someone's screen during one of the higher flights. You do fly in stealth mode, don't you?"     "Always, ever since the night Stephie zapped that Russian space capsule. NASA would probably have been one of the first Earth outfits to get its hands on Amaran technology, so maybe stealth mode isn't enough anymore. Why are you against helping them get their stuff upstairs?"     With an audible sigh, Linda said, "I don't trust them, Ed. To the current administration, near space is just another high ground to take and hold. They're talking about a zero-gee lab, weather monitoring stations, and a lot of other things like that, but I just plain-damned don't trust them."     She sighed and continued, "Don't quote me on this, of course, but the current President is a right-wing, born-again fundy who owes his appointed existence in office to special-interest money. He's going to attach heavy strings to any funding given to NASA or any other agency."     "You're still tense about the election, aren't you, ma'am?"     Linda made a rude noise.     "It was an election only until he was placed in office before all the votes were in. By people his daddy picked when he was the Prez, no less. Regardless the count, that's when it ceased being a real election. But that's beside the point. Ed, I'm afraid that they'll try to hang a nuke weapons system in orbit."     I thought about that for a moment over another sip of coffee.     "Linda, completely ignoring for a moment the Outer Space Treaty of 1967 that prohibits orbital weapons, it takes a reactor to power a particle beam weapon. Solar panels and batteries couldn't power a laser capable of penetrating the atmosphere to cut heavy cardboard at the surface. They'd have to use plain, old-fashioned missiles, and the effort needed to get enough of them into orbit would be fairly noticeable, I think."     Linda said, "You're thinking of missiles like you've seen here on Earth, Ed. Down here, they're ninety percent fuel tank. Up there, they'd be shooting downhill. All they'd have to do is get the damned things started in the right direction and let gravity do the rest. Little missiles like that could go up in shuttles. The present administration has been talking about trying to put up two complete geosynchronous space laboratory stations within this decade. Does that sound like a communications and weather program to you?"     "No, not really, but so far all we have is speculation. How do they explain their big hurry to get their stuff up there?"     "They don't," she said. "Well, they do, but their reasons don't ring true for me or anyone else I've talked to about the space station project. I've had to dish out enough government bullshit to know it when I hear it."     "Hm. Hell, they could use heat-shielded Tomahawk missiles if they tweak the GPS system. Can they order us to cooperate, Linda?"     "No. We're subject to 3rd World's orders only, and the 3rd hasn't offered them any assistance with the station project. None whatsoever."     "Uh, huh. That says a lot all by itself, doesn't it?"     "I think so, too. Some people are suggesting -- in a rather derogatory manner -- that 3rd World simply won't involve itself with non-profit ventures, of course. Guess who?"     "Would our current Prez be one of them? Maybe his entire political party, too?"     "You got it, Ed."     "In that case, it stinks. If that crowd is pressuring 3rd World to help put hardware into local space, you can bet that there's a dark reason for it."     "That's what a number of other people think, too."     "Okay, Linda. I'll let them pitch me if they show up and send you a copy of it. Here's an easy fix; as far as NASA or anyone else is concerned, Stephie and the other two non-issue flitters at Carrington won't be able to fly above a hundred miles as of today."     "Ed, a number of people already know that they can do a lot better than that."     "People on Earth? You and who else, Linda? Wallace's crew and a few of the brass hats at 3rd World? Have you used the other flitters above a hundred miles?"     "Only in Alpha team's training flights. We haven't had a reason to tell anyone their full capabilities, not even Wallace. You haven't been to space since that time with me?"     "I didn't say that, Linda. Selena likes to fly high now and then. I've been up there alone a few times for the hell of it, too. Let's assume for the moment that NASA thinks that our flitters can do what they want. Unless you say otherwise, I'll fix it so they can't. End of problem."     "Oh, come on, Ed. You know there's always a way to change someone's mind about something. It's never more than a matter of how far they're willing to go and what they're willing to do to get what they want."     "Yeah, yeah, but I'm not talking about a scenario where the government would hold somebody hostage for cooperation, Linda. I'm talking about the more routine stuff. Financial or social pressures. Can they find anything on you?"     "No, I don't think so. How about you?"     "Most of my life, I guess. My mom still doesn't know I was a mercenary, but I doubt it would upset her greatly to find out."     "Don't be so sure that she doesn't know. I'm sure a lot of people have contacted her about you along the line."     "Well, then, it's too late to worry about it, isn't it? She's not a wimp. Besides, that's all history now. Linda, I can think of another reason we won't be much help to NASA."     "I'm listening."     "Technology differences, milady. Flitters lift and hold. They don't reach orbital velocities. NASA's stuff depends on orbital velocities to keep them from falling. They'd have to find a way to rendezvous with a stationary platform, and I'd bet serious money that they just flat can't do that right now."     Linda was silent for a moment, then she said, "Good thinking, but they know how a flitter operates. Why would they want access to ours if they didn't think they could use them?"     "Maybe they think that if they can get stuff up to orbital height, they can find a way to match things up. Maybe they have an idea about using a flitter as a cheap launching platform. Could even be that they'll want to try to use cargo flitters as permanent platforms. Do they have access to design specs and like that? Could they maybe come up with a flitter design of their own or copy an existing design?"     "I don't think so, Ed. We've been extremely careful about letting any one person learn too much, and if the engine casing of a commercial flitter is opened, the engine self-destructs. It fuses into a solid glob and the stored energy is directed downward in a narrow beam."     "Uh, huh. And I'll bet the flitter would scream for help, too. 3rd World handles all flitter maintenance. Do they know where all the existing noncommercial flitters are, Linda? Current status, and all that? Are any of them not being used?"     Linda said, "We're the only maintenance depot and I've already got someone running a location check on all existing flitters. None of the flitters has reported any problems or attempts at tampering, Ed."     "Bet that one of the government flits will ring in fairly soon. Within a few months, anyway."     "We also think that's a possibility. Okay, then, I have an appointment in about five minutes, so I'm going back to work now. Keep in touch, Dragonfly."     Linda's use of my operative nickname let me know that I should consider myself on soft-alert status.     "Will do, Fearless Leader. Have someone there verify maximum flitter flight parameters in about half an hour."     "Okay. Later, Ed." She clicked off. Chapter Two     I looked at Steph and asked, "If I tried to open your engine casing, what would happen?"     Steph arched an eyebrow at me and said, "The same. Without the proper disabling codes, my engine would fuse and I'd report to 3rd World."     "Could an outfit like NASA get their hands on those codes, Steph? Maybe from line workers at 3rd World?"     "It would be very difficult, Ed. Opening an engine casing requires the input of three qualified ID's before the disabling codes are introduced. Security is very stringent."     "Think about how it might be done, Steph. In the meantime, if I or anyone else asks you how high you can fly, the answer is one hundred miles."     "I can't lie, Ed. You know that."     "You won't be lying, miLady. I hereby order you not to allow our flitter to fly above that height until Linda or I countermand this order. The same limitation applies to the other noncommercial flitters at Carrington or anywhere else. I further order that there be no record of who gave you this order or who is allowed to rescind it. Make it look like a factory limit."     Steph regarded me thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "Do you really feel that level of subterfuge is necessary?"     I nodded. "Yup. Sure do. You can think rings around NASA's best scientists and computers, Steph, but if they decide to push this issue, the government won't send scientists. They'll send well-trained, highly motivated, badge-wearing thugs. When they want something badly enough, things get nasty very quickly. We'd be contending with people who manipulate and abuse others for a living."     "May I ask why Linda didn't issue this order?"     "She called me on my watch, not my phone, and she was calling from her car to avoid being overheard. This is her way of getting the order issued and acted upon without having any record of such an order emanating from her offices. You are now to eliminate all references to flight above one hundred miles from your help files and all other data sources within your scope of control. Elkor can put them back later or supply them as needed."     I keyed my comm implant and asked, "Elkor, how many people have direct access to you?"     Elkor replied, "Linda and you on Earth and three people on the factory station, Ed."     'Just two people on Earth?' I thought, 'He isn't exactly a socialite.'     "Does NASA have any involvement with station personnel?"     "Linda has already contacted me in this regard, Ed. Some NASA personnel have visited the station, of course, and some of NASA's personnel came to work for 3rd World, but NASA has no direct involvements with 3rd World Products."     "Thanks, Elkor. I'll leave that end of things to Linda, then. Do you have any negative thoughts or opinions about my actions?"     With his usual brevity Elkor said, "No, Ed."     "Well, let me know if you come up with any, okay? Also let me know if I've overlooked anything in the matter of keeping NASA from knowing the full capabilities of non-commercial flitters."     "I'll do that, Ed. Will there be anything else?"     "Nope. Thanks, Elkor."     Elkor said, "You're welcome," and broke the connection.     As Tiger had grown from kitten to cat, Elkor's presence around the house had gradually dwindled to simply being available via my comm implant.     At first I had thought that I might somehow have offended him and I'd asked him why he wasn't around the house as much as he'd been the first couple of years I'd known him.     He'd replied that he'd thought the necessity of his presence had lessened to a degree that allowed him to use his drone elsewhere and asked me if he'd been in error.     I said, "No, no problem, Elkor. I was just worried that I might have said or done something that caused you to leave."     "No, Ed, you didn't. I mean no offense, of course, but the levels of daily input acquired and interaction required seemed inadequate to justify keeping a drone there at all times."     I'd laughed and said, "You got bored, huh? I guess I can live with that. Glad it wasn't anything I said."     On Wednesday, Stephanie dug up the info she needed concerning flight 949's passenger list and flight path and we lifted to meet Jeffries' plane while it was still above the Atlantic and an hour or so from Tampa.     As I toyed with the field-generated aircraft-style yoke and rudder pedals Steph had programmed into existence, I said, "Controls off, please. You're driving today, Steph. Got a picture of Jeffries in your files?"     A screen field popped up to display a photo of a man in his early fifties. He had brownish-blonde hair and brown eyes that seemed to be examining the camera lens. It seemed to me to be the kind of face you'd find on someone who'd been places well off the beaten paths of society.     "That guy looks as if he's been around some," I said.     Steph said, "Look at this," and she put my passport photo up next to his picture.     The similarity was in the eyes. No, the similarity emanated from the eyes. There was a quality about each of the pictures that could make you approach those people with caution if you had any reason to approach them at all.     "Damn," I said. "I see what you mean, Steph. I've seen my face in a mirror every day and never noticed that. Guess I've just gotten used to it or something. 'To see ourselves as others see us', huh?"     Steph said, "Robert Burns was indeed an astute poet, however else he may have been lacking. Donald Jeffries began marketing gold and other precious metals in Central Africa during the seventies. He used to buy and resell, but since 1983 he's only brokered other peoples' holdings."     "Africa in the seventies. Well, damn, again. From the look of him, we may have known some of the same people in some of the same places."     "Shall I see what I can find in records of that time, Ed?"     Shaking my head, I said, "No, thanks. Don't waste processor time on it unless he says or does something to make a records search worth the trouble."     We met and matched speeds with flight 949 in full stealth mode to avoid spooking the flight crew. Jeffries was on the manifest as a first class passenger. As we flew alongside the plane, Steph adjusted some of the side of the canopy field to transparency and stationed us about fifty feet outside the proper windows.     I'd thought there'd be some buffeting from the wind so close to the plane, but there wasn't. Steph shaped her fields to compensate somehow.     "There's Jeffries," she said, pointing to one of the windows near the front.     "Let's give him a good, long look, then. Wave at him and smile and keep us precisely where we are in relation to the plane. The pilot may decide to veer away. Would you put me through to him, Steph? No video, just radio."     "Ready," she said.     "Thanks, ma'am."     I said, "Hello, flight 949. We're the flitter by your right wing, and we thought you'd probably like to know why we're hanging around out here."     After a couple of moments the pilot's tense British voice said, "Yes. Indeed we would, flitter. Identify yourself, please."     "Um, well, we don't have a flight number, 949. We just wanted to have a look at something before you tried to land that thing. Everything's fine, though. No sweat."     "You thought something was wrong with my ship?"     "Well, no, not really. We just wanted to check something, that's all. Like I said, things are fine, 949. Nothing's leaking or flapping in the breeze or anything like that. Sorry we bothered you, but it seemed like a good idea to have a look. I'm one of those 'better safe than sorry' people. Bye. Over and out."     I waved at Jeffries, then said, "He's had his look. We can head for the airport now, Steph."     She lifted us well clear of the plane, then put us in stealth mode and shot us ahead of the jet. When we arrived at Tampa International airport, Steph took us into the parking garage and we stepped off the flitter, then she sent the flitter to hover just above the garage's rooftop parking area.     As we approached the security checkpoint, I slipped my belt knife out of its sheath and tucked it lengthwise under the back of my belt, then twisted it so that the blade rested against the belt, giving it a lateral profile.     When we reached the checkpoint, Stephie walked through without registering on any sensors except the guard's eyeballs, which tracked her progress until I coughed politely.     I tossed my keys in the bucket he held out to me, turned my pewter belt buckle so that it was edgewise against my jeans, just like my knife, and walked through the checkpoint without setting off the alarm.     The guard watched me straighten my belt buckle and said, "Done this before a few times, huh?"     I nodded. "Yeah. Doesn't always work, though. Sometimes I have to hold the buckle an inch or so higher to make it through. The fields in the booth walls are lateral, but they're at different heights, depending on the manufacturer."     "You saying our machines are no good?"     "Nope. No terrorist is going to chance waltzing through one of these gadgets with his hardware." To change the subject, I asked, "Is flight 949 on the ground yet?"     As expected, the guard said, "I dunno. Check the monitors when you get to the concourse."     I set out walking ahead of Steph as we left the checkpoint so that she'd block the guard's view of me. While putting my wallet back in my pocket I palmed my knife out from under my belt and slipped it back into its sheath, then I slowed down to let her catch up with me.     Steph gave me an odd look as she came alongside me, but said nothing until we'd turned left onto the concourse to head for gate 41.     "Interesting," she said. "You apparently learned a few things about fields before you met me."     "Ah, my dear, lovely Stephanie," I said theatrically, "My whole life had merely been preparation for our meeting."     She laughed and said, "I could almost believe that sometimes." With a grin, she added, "But only almost."     As we passed the airport lounge I felt someone watching me and glanced around. A thirtyish blonde woman at one of the small tables by the concourse let her eyes fall to something on her table.     There was a hubbub going on at gate 41 and three airport security people were quick-marching toward the gate. I stopped walking and looked at Steph, then pretended to adjust her collar as I spoke.     "I'll bet that's about our fly-by, Steph. If anyone but Jeffries sees us, we could wind up talking to security goons and bureaucrats all night. I'll step into the restroom and turn on my three suit. We can catch Jeffries when he comes out of the gate or tail him to the baggage area to make contact."     She nodded agreement and we headed for the restrooms. Steph dematerialized just inside the right-hand alcove entrance. I headed into the left alcove and said, "Option three on," then turned around and reentered the concourse.     The blonde woman was frozen in the act of taking a sip of her drink, staring at the restroom alcoves. I realized that her angle of view would partially include the restroom doorway.     Oops. Did she see me -- or part of me -- disappear? She glanced around, then got up and moved a few tables away for a better look at the alcove. Yup. She'd seen it.     I walked over to watch her try to talk herself out of believing that she'd just seen someone disappear.     She simply stared at the alcove a little harder for a moment, then glanced at the drink in her hand and put it down on the tiny table before returning her gaze to the alcove.     The blonde then picked up a folded sheet of paper and studied it for a moment as she sipped her drink. I stepped quietly over to the table for a look at the paper. It was a computer-printed copy of my passport photo.     Interesting. She wasn't just an accidental observer. She was kind of cute, too. I studied her for a few moments. She chewed her lip thoughtfully, but didn't seem too disturbed about our disappearances as she returned her gaze to the alcove and sipped her drink.     Moderately amazing. She'd apparently almost instantly decided that she'd seen the impossible happen and then decided to simply roll with it. What were the odds of that?     She then folded the paper and put it back on the table. A few moments later, when she took a cigarette out of the pack on the table and reached for her lighter without taking her eyes off the alcove, I already had her lighter.     Her eyes narrowed as she glanced around the table for the lighter. I flicked it on about two feet from her face and held it toward her as I softly said, "Allow me." Chapter Three     The field effect around my hand concealed the lighter itself, so to her it must have seemed as if a flame had sprung to life in mid-air above the table, and I'll give her full credit for not freaking out at all.     After a slight jerk of startlement, the woman simply sat there staring at the flame for a moment, then leaned forward to get a light. When she held out her hand for her lighter, I placed it on her open palm.     "Thank you," she said as she watched the lighter appear and fall into her hand. "Are you a ghost or something?"     "Or something," I said. "I just came over here to let you know that you aren't seeing things. Or rather, that you aren't not seeing things. Something like that, anyway."     She gave me a small smile as she said, "Thanks. I was beginning to wonder about that."     The bartender leaned toward her across the bar and asked, "Ready for another drink over there, ma'am?"     The woman turned to him and said, "No, thanks," then she turned back to the table, giggled, and whispered, "I might start seeing things or something. Are you still there?"     I whispered back, "Yup. Are you waiting for a flight?"     "No. I just got off one. I'm Marge. Who are you?"     "Name's Ed. Would you like a ride somewhere?"     Marge chuckled and asked, "Are you trying to pick me up? If so, you'll have a much better chance when I can see the merchandise."     "Stick around a while," I said. "There's a guy who'll be getting off a plane soon. He's going to get a surprise. Then you'll see us both."     "Both? There are two of you?"     "Yup. Finish your drink and stay put if you're curious. Watch gate 41."     She nodded. "Yeah. Okay. This I gotta see."     "Okay, then. Back in a few. Bye."     Marge grinningly raised her glass slightly and said, "Bye."     As I approached the gate, Steph said, "Jeffries is coming up the gangway now, Ed. What are you going to do?"     "The flight crew and most of the passengers are already off. Let's see if he's going to wait here or head for the baggage area. When the crowd thins a bit, we'll make an appearance."     Jeffries seemed in no hurry to debark. As the last few people were leaving the gangway, he appeared wearing a double-pocket khaki shirt with epaulets and brown slacks over a pair of Nike sneakers. Very practical traveling clothes. In his left hand was a large brown briefcase.     He stepped to one side, looked around, then walked to the check-in desk and set his briefcase down between his leg and the desk. After another few moments of looking around, he took a cell phone out of his coat pocket and dialed a number. I reached to push the 'off' button.     "Save your dime, Mr. Jeffries," I said. "Your ride is here."     Jeffries apparently wasn't the type to spook easily. He simply put the phone back in his pocket, then turned to face the sound of my voice as he examined his surroundings.     "You don't sound at all like George Wilmot," he said. "And at the moment, you don't look very much like him."     He had a 'veddy British' accent and his imperturbability was considerably more than skin deep. Not much patience for games of any sort, betcha. Jeffries strongly reminded me of some of the Brit officers who'd worked with our mercenary units in Africa.     I quietly said, "Option three off," and became visible as the field effect faded.     Jeffries' once-over glance seemed more like a weapons and gig-line check than a casual evaluation of me.     "The name's Ed," I said, extending a hand which Jeffries took rather mechanically. "My friend Stephanie's around here somewhere. Steph? Care to join us?"     She popped into being in front of the gate's check-in booth and also extended a hand to Jeffries.     As he took her hand, he gazed at her in frank appraisal and said, "You were the people aboard that flitter."     His flat gaze and tone made his words a statement that required no confirmation. Jeffries had not the smallest doubt. He also showed almost no signs of surprise or incredulity at Steph's abrupt appearance, which surprised me a bit.     I said, "George said you might have a question regarding our ownership of what we want to sell. I suggested that we pick you up and see if the ride to the office could answer that question for you."     Jeffries gave me a slight smile and said, "I'm also a pilot, sir. Fancy flying won't impress me. If you can convince me that what you offer is properly yours to sell we may continue from there."     I looked at Steph and asked, "Want to raise a cannon for Mr. Jeffries, Steph?"     She smiled and said, "I just happen to know where we can find one on short notice."     Jeffries raised a hand and said, "Ah, no, I'm sorry. I won't have time to accompany you on one of your expeditions. I have to be in London this weekend."     Steph asked, "Surely you can spare half an hour or so?"     That startled Jeffries where nothing else had.     "Half an hour?" he asked. "Is it in a swimming pool?"     "No," said Steph. "It's at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico, two hundred and nine miles from here. I'll inform Mr. Wilmot of our delay. Shall we get started?"     Jeffries looked at me as if for confirmation. I shrugged, then looked toward the bar and saw Marge looking our direction. When I waved, she waved back.     "We'll be stopping on the way," I said. "We may be giving that lady a ride home."     Marge stood up somewhat nervously as we walked to the bar. I extended a hand to her as I said, "Hi, Marge. What's your last name, so I can introduce you?"     "Canton," she said.     Okay," I said, "Marge Canton, this is Stephanie Montgomery, Donald Jeffries, and as you already know, I'm Ed."     She grinned and asked, "Just Ed?"     "It's all I use unless I'm signing checks. What say, guys? Do we join her for a drink or get underway?"     Jeffries said, "It's early for me, thanks."     Marge said, "I don't need to finish this one," then she picked up her purse and started to reach for her suitcases.     I walked around the table and took her bags, then said to Jeffries, "Why don't you find your baggage and meet us out front? Will you want some help?"     Jeffries shook his head, said, "Thanks, but there's only one bag and this, my carry-on case. I'll be right along," then he turned to leave us. Chapter Four     As we headed for the exit, Marge asked, "How did Mr. Jeffries take your 'invisible man' routine?"     "Rather well, I thought," I said. "He just put his phone away and told me that I didn't sound like the guy he'd expected to pick him up."     Marge giggled softly and asked, "Unshakeable, huh? How do you do that, Ed?"     "Classified magic, ma'am."     "But not so classified that you couldn't stop by my table to light my cigarette while you were invisible?"     "Um. That's a point. Well, I guess it isn't all that classified, then, but if I explained it, would I be wasting my breath?"     "Oh, just tell me which button to push," she said. "That's the limit of my understanding of most techie things."     "No buttons. No learning curve. It just works when I tell it to work."     "Oh, that's even better," she said in a false bright tone. "Even I could handle something like that, I think."     I glanced at her somewhat sharply. "That's not what I meant, Marge. I'm just saying that there's nothing to understand. I say when and it happens."     She shook her head wryly.     "Sorry. I wasn't... Never mind. I thought you were being condescending. Sorry."     We walked on in silence until we reached the main exit doors. Beyond them, hovering near the roof of the enclosed driveway, was the flitter. As we looked up from the sidewalk, Marge's eyes became those of an excited child.     "Look! It's one of those flitter-things!"     I glanced at Steph with a grin.     Steph smiled slightly and said, "So it is, Marge, and as soon as this car is out of the way, I'll bring it down."     Marge turned to ask, "You mean it's yours..?" but Steph had winked out of existence, leaving Marge with her mouth hanging open. She reappeared on the flitter as it maneuvered to descend to the curb. The motion caught Marge's attention and her mouth remained open as she spotted Steph standing by the flitter's console.     "No," I said. "Not hers, Marge. It's mine."     As the flitter descended, Marge glanced at me and asked, "How did she..?"     "She'll tell you all about it," I said, "Let's just get aboard and clear the driveway until Jeffries arrives. We don't want to draw a crowd or get a parking ticket."     Something tickled Marge and she laughed. "A ticket...? You really think they'd ticket a flitter?"     "Why find out?"     Looking around as I handed her aboard the flitter, Marge said, "There aren't any controls. How do you fly it?"     "There are controls," I said. "See that egg on the console? That's a control."     Marge went to look closely at the egg and tried to pick it up, but couldn't. When she noticed that we were in motion, she quickly sat down.     Once the flitter was again floating near the ceiling, I opened the cooler and said, "We have Dr Pepper, Ice House beer, or lemon tea in a can. What'll it be, Marge?"     She reached toward the cooler she couldn't see and stubbed her fingers on the side of it, then felt her way around the side and up to the open top.     "Uh... Tea, please."     I opened a can and handed it to her, then pulled out an Ice House for myself. When I let the lid close, Marge cleared her throat and nodded slightly at Steph while giving me an 'Aren't you forgetting someone?' look.     "Steph," I said, "Marge is worried that I may have neglected to offer you something from the cooler."     Marge turned to Steph.     Steph said, "Thank you, but I'm not thirsty, Marge."     I walked to the edge of the deck to watch for Jeffries. Sitting down, I swung my legs over the edge and sipped my beer as I watched people and cars come and go.     A guard inside the building seemed to shake off his momentary stupor at seeing the flitter and came around a pillar to the doors. He hesitated, then he stepped onto the sidewalk.     "Hey," he said, pointing up at me, "You can't drink beer out here."     'Not worth the hassle,' I thought, then I said, "Option three on."     The guard's jaw dropped. After a moment, he looked around as if to see if anyone else had seen me disappear. Finding himself alone, he backed away toward the doors and inside the building.     I got up and moved to the pilot's seat, then said, "Option three off. Steph, how about a one-way canopy, please?"     In the front windshield of an approaching car I saw our reflection as our canopy instantly resembled stainless steel.     "Thank you, ma'am. Now I can drink my beer in peace."     Marge said, "Huh?" and looked around, apparently seeing no difference at first.     "Look for a slight graying of the air around us," I said. "It's like a shell around the flitter. We can see out, but people can't see in."     I watched her as she examined the air around the flitter and located the zone of gray. She reached to touch it, then pulled her hand back and asked, "Is it all right to...?"     "Go ahead," I said, pausing as she began to reach again, "It won't hurt too much."     Her eyes widened slightly as her hand stopped, then she realized that I was joking.     "Marge," I said, "One of us would say something if there were a danger. Feel free to look around, but don't go toward the back of the flitter for the time being. Things are different back there and I wouldn't want you falling off the flitter."     She naturally looked that direction and saw nothing but the flat deck, but with a curious look, she nodded assent and sat silently gazing around the flitter.     It was odd, I thought, that she hadn't been more curious about the controls. Also odd that she hadn't asked how the fields worked. She hadn't seemed the mousy type, yet she simply sat there looking around in complete quiet.     Jeffries must have gotten lucky at the baggage carousels; I spotted him passing the security checkpoint with his suitcase on his way to the front doors.     "Jeffries is coming, Steph."     She nodded and the flitter began moving toward the curb as a car cleared the area. Jeffries saw the flitter descending and stopped to take a long look at it. I stood up so that my head and shoulders were above the canopy and waved.     As Jeffries' eyes widened, I said, "Our chariot awaits, sir."     "So I see. That's quite a device, isn't it?"     "That she is. Steph, would you clear the canopy, please?"     The appearance that I was surrounded by steel vanished. Jeffries approached and set his suitcase on the deck as if to see if anything would happen to it. He looked toward each end of the flitter and then glanced underneath it.     "Quite a device," he reiterated firmly.     He stepped aboard and started to pick up his bag, but Steph quickly fielded it toward the center of the deck and said, "Have a seat, Mr. Jeffries."     Jeffries hesitated a moment, then followed his bag aboard.     I said, "We have cold beer, cold canned tea, or Dr Pepper. Your choice."     "Beer?"     I nodded and opened the cooler.     "American. Cold. But beer of a sort, nonetheless."     Jeffries' eyes narrowed slightly as he saw only the top of the contents of a cooler hanging in space above the deck. He took the Ice House I offered as his other hand reached the way Marge's had to feel the cooler.     Marge giggled and said, "I had the same reaction."     Jeffries looked at her and said, "I'm sure you did, and with as good reason."     After a pause he said, "George Wilmot knows that I like to know who I'm dealing with. Your name doesn't appear on any of the usual treasure hunter lists, sir. I took the liberty of delving a bit deeper through other sources. What I found was somewhat unsettling, but George assured me that you seemed to be a reasonable and honorable man."     "Maybe we can discuss later what was unsettling, Mr. Jeffries. Is that what you'd prefer to be called, by the way, or would you prefer Don or Jeffries?"     "Either," he said. "It's becoming readily apparent that formalities are unnecessary aboard this... um, vessel."     "Flitter," said Marge, as she put her tea on the deck beside her seat. When Jeffries looked at her, she repeated, "Flitter. That's what they're called."     "Thank you, Marge," said Jeffries. "Flitter, then." He turned to me and asked, "What are its capabilities?"     "You're about to find out about some of them," I said. "Stephie, at your pleasure, you may take us to warp speed."     Steph grinned and the flitter lifted and headed for the covered driveway's eastern opening. The motion startled Marge, but Jeffries simply put a hand on the back of a seat and looked ahead intently for some moments.     He turned to look at me and asked, "Will be we going straight to the wreck site?"     I nodded. "Yup. We want to get the authenticity matter out of the way before we do anything else. Marge, how do you feel about visiting a shipwreck before we drop you off?"     Marge stared straight ahead and didn't answer. As we cleared the enclosure and lifted toward the Gulf, Steph poured on the coal. We were flying barely subsonic as we went 'feet wet' where the land stopped and the Gulf began.     When we were about two miles offshore, Steph said, "ETA in three-point-one-two minutes, Ed," then took us to full speed. Jeffries' grip tightened noticeably and he glanced at me. I grinned as I raised my beer and took a sip.     A small shriek sounded in the flitter. Marge had a tight grip on her seat with both hands and her teeth were grinding as she sat stiffly staring ahead.     "Hey, Marge," I said. When she made no response, I called her again. "Marge! Hey! Look over here! Look at me!"     Her staring eyes slowly turned to look at Jeffries, then at me. I waggled my beer at her and smiled.     "Relax, Marge. This is how Steph and I get around. Back to my question; How do you feel about visiting a shipwreck before we take you home?"     Her eyes seemed to look to Jeffries for confirmation that things were under control. He shrugged slightly and let go of the seat back to raise his hands. Marge then looked at Steph, who was standing next to her.     Steph nodded and smiled as she said, "There's no danger, Marge. Truly. Everything's fine."     Visibly forcing herself to relax, Marge looked at me again and muttered, "You could have warned me, damn it."     I shrugged and said, "Sorry 'bout that, ma'am. I did tell Steph to take us to warp, though. Doesn't that count?"     "Uh, huh," she said without conviction. "A shipwreck?"     "That's a place where a ship sank, Marge."     Jeffries didn't hide a small smile.     Marge's lips went thin as she said, "Oh, very funny. You know, I was kind of hoping for a little more information about, oh, I dunno, maybe why we were going to visit a shipwreck."     "To see it," I said. "To raise a cannon from the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico for Jeffries."     She shook her head slightly and exasperatedly said, "Okay. Yeah. Sure. It makes perfect sense now that I know we're going to raise a cannon. Not that I object, mind you, but may I ask why you're going to raise a cannon?"     "To show Jeffries that we can salvage things from the ocean floor."     Marge gave me one of those 'oh, I see, but not really' nods. Jeffries chuckled at her expression.     "Marge," he said, "I deal in various antiquities. Before I accept a client, I like to be assured that the goods that I'm being asked to sell actually belong to the client." He glanced at me, then at Stephanie, and added, "In this case, there's no paper trail to follow, so I'm apparently being given a demonstration of their retrieval capabilities."     "Various antiquities?" she asked.     Jeffries made a self-deprecating shrug and said, "Odds and ends. Bits and pieces. Anything that seems valuable."     Looking thoughtful for a moment, Marge said, "I read somewhere that a cannon isn't worth much."     "Most of them aren't," said Jeffries. "There are often other things aboard a wreck that will bring far more at auction." Chapter Five     Our speed lessened to a hundred miles per hour or so, then Steph said, "We'll be submerging shortly."     Jeffries looked at me in alarm and Marge seemed unable to believe what she'd just heard. I sat down in the pilot's chair and sipped my beer.     Doing his best to appear unruffled as he also took a seat, Jeffries asked, "Submerging?"     With a flick of my eyebrows at Marge, I said, "That means that we're going underwater, Jeffries."     Marge snorted a laugh and Jeffries glowered mildly.     He turned to face her and said, "In case you haven't noticed, my dear, this craft appears to have no outer hull."     Marge's eyes got big and she stared at me.     "No problem," I said.     With sudden alarm, Marge glanced at the ocean rushing past us a few hundred feet below, then she looked at me again. Her mouth opened, but before she could say anything, the nose of the flitter angled downward.     Our speed had continued dropping to around thirty miles per hour and Steph took us into the water at a gentle angle of descent, but Marge apparently noticed only the water rushing up at us.     Sitting rigid and gripping her seat, she screamed. It was a fine contralto, a full-throated, from-the-gut, horror-movie sort of scream; the kind only true terror can manufacture. Oh, well.     Jeffries seemed more than a bit tense, too, but he took his behavioral cues from Steph and me. Steph and I watched calmly as the water enveloped the flitter. I looked back to see our miniscule trail of bubbles against the sunlight above as we headed into the deeps.     Marge screamed again as some kind of large, shadowy something ahead of us swam quickly to one side of our path, hesitated there for a moment, then swam away at great speed. Jeffries reached for Marge's arm and softly said something to her, then moved to kneel by her seat.     "Shark?" I asked.     Steph nodded and said, "A hammerhead."     As the light from above faded, Steph adjusted the canopy field to give us a view of our surroundings and we were suddenly surrounded by the blue, radar-like imaging that I preferred during underwater transit.     "Twenty-two seconds to the wreck," said Steph.     "Thanks, milady," I said. "Marge, are you okay?"     Jeffries faced me and snapped, "The poor woman is terrified. Is this how you treat all of your passengers?"     "Yup. We tell 'em what we're gonna do and then we do it. She'll be all right in a minute, Jeffries. We're almost there."     Steph said, "Ed, you should have told me..."     "Too late now," I said, interrupting her. "We're used to hauling people who know us, Steph. Once Marge realizes there's no danger, she'll be fine."     The blue-tinged display disappeared as field-created lights snapped on ahead of us to illuminate two vague, lumpy outlines protruding from the ocean floor. As we drew closer, the outlines became more pronounced, then became recognizable as the remnants of a wooden ship.     Jeffries muttered, "My God..!" as he stared at the wreck.     Marge seemed to almost forget her panic as she also stared at what lay ahead of us.     With a small smile, Steph said, "We're here."     Jeffries looked at her rather blankly and asked, "Where the hell is here?"     Steph rattled off latitude and longitude and ended with, "...at a depth of six hundred and twenty-eight feet."     Marge made a keening sort of noise and stared straight up through the canopy at the blackness above us. Jeffries also seemed less than comfortable as he glanced upward.     "Steph," I said, "Opaque the upper canopy for now, please. Give us the appearance of having a hull, but leave the forward view open. You've located a cannon?"     As the canopy changed, she said, "Several, Ed. Four sizes and ammunition for each type. What do you think I should bring aboard?"     "A few of the smaller ones and some ammo should be enough to convince Jeffries that we know what we're doing." Turning to Jeffries, I asked, "Would that do it for you?"     When I received no reply, I asked, "Jeffries?"     He faced me first, then Steph, and said, "Uhm... Yes. Of course. Whatever you think is best will be fine. What ship is this? Do you know?"     "Because I didn't need that information, I haven't researched it," said Steph. "I'll leave that to others."     "Others?" asked Marge, "What others?"     "Museums and such. They'll trace it to some shipment or other."     Steph sent a narrow field into the debris around the ship and lifted an object over a yard long from the muck. She then brought it toward the flitter and held it just beyond her field for a few moments for Jeffries' examination, then began drawing it through the field.     Centuries of encrusted muck seemed to disassociate itself from the object as it entered the field, falling away as fine particulate matter and revealing the muzzle of a small cannon, which settled to the flitter's deck.     When the cannon had stopped moving, Jeffries rather tentatively reached to touch it, glancing up once as if expecting to be warned that it was still hot.     As his hand touched and then rested on the cannon, a cluster of half a dozen cannonballs came through the field and drifted to the deck next to the cannon. Jeffries hesitantly picked one up and stared at it for some moments before returning his attention to the cannon.     He asked, "Can you bring one of these aboard without cleaning it?"     "Stephie can do damned near anything," I said. "Bringing a dirty cannon aboard is no problem."     The next cannon recovered passed through the field with its detritus intact, but dry.     Again Jeffries muttered, "My God..." He looked up and said, "I just realized... We should keep these immersed, otherwise the salt..."     His words trailed off as the small cannon floated into his arms. He sat down on the deck with it, staring at it as if it were something precious.     "I've removed the salt," said Steph. "Immersion won't be necessary."     Jeffries looked up and asked, "How?"     "She just did, Jeffries," I said. "Steph's very talented."     A motion made me glance at Marge. She'd gotten to her feet and approached the cannon in a rather cautious manner. She stopped before she reached it and simply stared at it for a moment before casting a gaze at me. Something about her demeanor was very different and her eyes were no longer those of a frightened woman.     I turned to Jeffries and asked, "Jeffries, who in your offices may have known that you were going to visit us? I don't just mean Florida; I mean us in particular."     Jeffries gave me a quizzical look and said, "My partner and my secretary. Probably his secretary, as well, since we like to keep track of each other for decision-making in the field. And George Wilmot and his secretary." With a raised eyebrow, he added, "And anyone you may have told, of course."     Nodding, I asked, "How else might the US government have gotten wind of your visit?"     Jeffries put the cannonball down and looked at me for a moment before asking, "What are you trying to say?"     "Steph," I said, "Run a thorough check on Jeffries and Marge. I think Jeffries is clean, but I'm ninety-five percent sure that Marge is a government ringer."     Steph raised an eyebrow at me, but nodded. Marge looked at me as if I'd gone nuts and Jeffries got to his feet with a rather dour look.     Steph said, "You're right, Ed. He's definitely Donald Jeffries, but Marge isn't really Marge Canton. Her real name is Myra Berens and she's employed by the National Security Agency."     "Thank you, milady," I said. "Myra, Steph said it, so don't even think of denying it. I can think of a couple of reasons why the NSA might be interested in Stephie and me. Why not tell us why you're here? We might even cooperate."     Jeffries had turned to stare at Marge/Myra. She tried looking thoroughly confused, of course, but I just sat there sipping beer and Jeffries had gone completely on guard.     Steph continued, "Age thirty-six. Actual hair color brown. Single. Scars on the back of her left thigh due to a childhood accident. She speaks three languages and..."     Myra said, "Okay. I had to try. It's in the rule book somewhere. How did you know, Ed?"     "Just tell us why you're here, Marge."     "I'm not sure I can do that, Ed. That's in the rulebook, too."     "In that case, you can report that you had a helluva ride and that your cover is shot, ma'am. You can also tell them that any treasure Stephanie may raise will be sold in offshore markets and that we're moving out of the country. I wouldn't want Steph to have to spend her money to keep me out of jail."     Jeffries looked at me in surprise and asked, "Jail?"     "Yeah. Jail. Tax court. Remember what happened to the guys who found the Atocha? All that. They'd try to use me as a way to get at Steph's treasure. Some puppet bureaucrat would declare that I was a partner of some sort and assess taxes based on their inflated estimated sale values, then they'd try to hold me hostage for a big chunk of her money."     Myra gave me the fisheye and asked, "Try to..? Ed, we're talking about the government here. If that's what they want, they won't just try."     "A few piddly little hauls of sunken treasure wouldn't be enough to make the government -- even the IRS -- risk a media circus and a major court battle, and that's exactly what would happen when the world finds out who Stephanie Montgomery really is and that she wants to be a US citizen."     As Myra's widening eyes locked on Steph, she muttered, "Your computer wants... wants to become a US citizen?"     "Why shouldn't she? It's not the worst place to live and she may want to vote someday."     Jeffries snorted a chuckle and sat down to watch the show with a big grin. Steph brought another cleaned cannon through her field as she watched Myra process the latest revelation.     Myra watched the cannon come through the field, then sighed and sat down, as well.     "A very unusual application for residency," said Myra. "That's what got the NSA involved. Now I know why they thought it was unusual... but now I'm not so sure. Nobody told me anything about sunken treasure, either."     "I doubt they knew about it," I said. "Doesn't the NSA usually leave that sort of thing to the INS?"     Myra nodded. "We've probably only looked into about two dozen apps in the last year. Mostly for tax reasons."     "Forty-one apps," said Steph, "According to INS records."     Myra gave her a sharp look of surprise, but said nothing.     "Steph," I said, "Don't volunteer information, milady. Trade it. Right now, Myra still owes us a few pounds of info for conning her way aboard."     Cocking a thumb at Steph, I said to Myra, "Steph wants residency, then citizenship. Recognized identity, just like everybody else who puts in one of those applications. But is it really possible that's the only reason your outfit tagged us with you at the airport?"     Myra shrugged and said, "That's what I was given to believe, but like I said, now I'm not so sure. I'd still like to know how you spotted me."     I shook my head. "Nope. You're still being too vague, Myra. Steph, Jeffries has had a demonstration of your abilities. I think it's time to head to your lawyer's office."     Jeffries drained his beer and said, "I heartily concur." Chapter Six     Myra became angry.     "Lawyer? Because of me? I told you why I think I'm here. Do you think I'd bother lying at this point?"     Jeffries rather flatly said, "Oh, without a doubt, dear lady. Without a doubt. How about another beer, Ed?"     I reached into the cooler and said, "You got it," as I fished out another beer for him and myself. "How about you, Myra?"     Myra's anger appeared real enough.     She snatched the beer bottle out of my hand and said, "Yeah. Sure. Thanks bunches," before downing several swallows of it.     I reached for another one and opened it as I watched her. Damned good-looking woman. Tall. Solid. Elegant lines.     "Ed," said Steph through my implant, "I've found several coins under one of the larger cannons. They appear to have been in a man's pouch. There's also a belt buckle and the remains of a knife a few inches away from the coins."     I nodded and said, "Everybody, we'll be here another few minutes yet. Steph, would you put up a display while you dig the stuff out?"     A vid screen field popped into being above the pilot's console and we were able to watch as Steph's fields ferreted the objects from amid a skeleton beneath the cannon.     Jeffries said in amazement, "Some poor blighter was under that cannon, rest his soul!"     Myra seemed fascinated; half by the picture and half by the display field itself. Her attention was diverted when the objects passed through Steph's field and floated over to me. I spread the stuff out on the deck.     The knife's wooden handle had long ago rotted away and the knife and belt buckle were both heavily pitted and eroded, but Steph had only separated their shell of hardened muck rather than dissolving it, and that shell displayed the items' former shapes. Jeffries handled them as if they were fragile heirlooms.     Myra reached for one of the gold coins and studied it in much the same manner that Jeffries studied the knife.     "This is absolutely fabulous," she breathed. "Just think; nobody has seen or touched these things in... Oh, I don't know... in hundreds of years!"     Her gaze fell again on the knife and buckle in Jeffries hands and her face fell as she bit her lip and said, "Oh, that poor man. It must have been absolutely horrible for him."     That surprised me. I'd been ready for greed, fascination, or a number of other responses from Myra-the-spook, but not an expression of overt sympathy for a man over three hundred years dead.     Steph said, "I've found more coins and some jewelry in the stern. A moment while I dig them out."     Jeffries and Myra watched the screen in excited fascination as Steph's fields winnowed the muck and transported her finds to the flitter. Within fifteen minutes or so Steph reported that she'd retrieved all of the items.     Compared to a treasure ship's cargo, there wasn't a helluva lot in the pile. Some fifty or so gold and silver coins, some religious and common jewelry, and a good number of pewter utensils were all of it, but Myra and Jeffries acted as if there were a ton of the stuff.     While they pawed gently through the small pile, I glanced at Steph. She asked through my implant if we had any reason to stay and I shook my head. We began rising through the blackness, our ascent apparently unnoticed by either Jeffries or Myra until light from above began to cast their shadows on the deck.     As we broke the surface and hovered above the waves, I said, "Next stop, Wilmot's office. I want him to meet Myra."     "Ed," said Steph, "Let's discuss some things before we get underway. I don't particularly need a deck cannon at the moment. Do you?"     I laughed. "No, not really," I said. "Why?"     "In that case, I'd like to give one or two to George Wilmot and let Myra and Don have the others."     Surprising the hell out of both Jeffries and me, Myra said in a high-pitched tone, "What!? They belong in a museum!"     I said, "They belong wherever their new owners care to put them. Donate yours to a museum if you want."     Jeffries said, "Quite right. Don't worry about it, Myra. Cannon are rather common finds. Transporting one back to the UK would cost more than it's worth, but I'd be happy to document them and donate mine to a local museum."     In a somewhat haughty and self-righteous tone, Myra said, "Thank you, Mr. Jeffries." Looking at me, she asked in the same tone, "And what about the other items?"     "They belong to Stephanie," I said, "She found them and salvaged them."     "But..!"     I cut her off. "No buts. Not all treasure makes it to museums, and that's just the way it is. Steph, what do you want to do with this junk?"     Myra almost screamed, "Junk!?" and Jeffries snickered.     Steph said, "Unless you want the buckle and knife, Don and Myra can have them."     Her fields went to work dividing the coins into four piles, then she said, "I've divided the coins approximately evenly among us. You may each do what you want with your share."     As Myra wonderingly pawed through the coins in the pile that Steph pushed toward her, Jeffries stood up and moved to his previous seat, then sat down and sipped his beer.     He said, "I'm sorry, Stephanie, but I can't take your kind offer. I did nothing to assist you. You found them and you salvaged them. They're all rightly yours alone."     Myra looked at him in stunned silence for a moment, then said, "Well, I'll take them, and his, too, if he doesn't want them! These coins are artifacts. They're history. They belong on public display, not hidden away or sold as knickknacks."     "Uh, huh," I said with a grin, "Well, I'm keeping mine. Steph, how about giving her a complete inventory of what she wants to donate and making copies for everyone here? We can have George Wilmot arrange the donation through an agency. Make sure the tax deduction receipt is in your name, ma'am."     Myra eyed me sharply. Jeffries eyed me quizzically and seemed about to ask a question.     I said, "If they won't give her a tax receipt, they don't get the stuff. In order to issue a tax receipt to an individual in the US, that individual must have a valid Social Security number. In order to acquire US residency, a person must have a valid Social Security number. A Social Security number cannot be issued to non-persons, so if they want the stuff, they'll have to help us make Stephie a legal person."     Jeffries said, "Very cunning, indeed, Ed, but they may not do that for a handful of old coins, even gold ones."     "How many handfuls would it take, Jeffries? How many ships have gone down with stuff like this aboard? Maybe they'd like Steph's help with raising other things, as well? There are a couple of sunken nuclear subs that won't hold together forever. One is Russian and poses no danger at the moment. The other is a US sub that went down near a chasm on a fault line, and they can't get to it well enough to remove it. Stephie could be a big help with something like that."     With a tone of awe, Jeffries said, "By God, she certainly could."     Myra's gaze narrowed as she said, "If there's a real danger and you can prevent it, it's your... her... duty to try..."     "Save it, lady," I said. "We aren't asking all that much, so if the powers that be can't figure out a way to make Stephanie a legal person and a citizen, maybe they'll have better luck figuring out a way to keep one of their nuke subs from falling into an undersea nutcracker."     Myra's face reflected her shock at my words.     Steph quietly said, "Ed, whether they grant me legal status or not, I couldn't allow that to happen."     I grinned and said, "Yeah, I know that, Steph. Now Myra does, too, and that'll make it that much harder for her to play the company girl if it comes to push and shove later. Right, Myra?"     In a cautious tone, Myra asked, "Push and shove? What do you mean?"     "I mean that we may need real, live people who will stand up for Steph. Character references. May we call on you?"     Myra seemed slightly confused for a moment, but she finally said, "I... All I can tell them is what I know about her, which isn't much."     I shrugged. "What kind of person do you know her to be, Myra? The kind of person you'd like to know, or the kind of person you'd be afraid to have living next door?"     Jeffries chuckled and asked, "Living next door?"     "Sure," I said. "She kind of lives with me, and none of my neighbors run screaming when they see her."     Jeffries looked Steph over for a moment and said, "No, I would imagine they wouldn't. Especially the men. I'd expect quite the opposite from them."     Myra shook her head as if to clear it and asked, "You'd call me as a character witness? After only a few hours of knowing me? After discovering that I'm with the NSA and that I ran a con to get aboard?"     "Sure," I said. "Why not? It was in the line of duty, wasn't it? Do you have any reason to lie about what you know of Stephanie?"     "Uh... Well, no, but still..."     "There you go, then. If appearing won't jeopardize you unnecessarily, we'll call you as a reference if we need you."     "I'll have to check with my office. We don't normally make public appearances, Ed."     "No sweat. Do you think the US government would allow any of this to become public, Myra? Not likely. Not as long as those who were in charge when the sub went down are alive. Closed-door sessions all the way. All we have to do is invoke national security concerning the nuke sub problem and a few other things that Steph will likely be asked to help fix."     "You said 'we', not 'they'. Why?"     "Because somebody had to, sooner or later. We can't keep calling the people we'll be working with 'they' and 'them'. If we're working together, the term is 'us'. If we can't work together, the term for me is 'journalist's informant'. Pictures of a busted nuke sub less than an eighth of a mile from an active volcanic trench are bound to sell some papers and jack up TV ratings, particularly since the official word has always been that it's over sixty miles away from that trench. The public doesn't like being lied to about things that can poison a whole ocean. The fact that we're now able to remove the sub with Amaran technology won't offset the fact that they've lied about it for a few decades already."     Jeffries grinned as he asked, "So you'd help, then blackmail the US government into granting her citizenship?"     I said, "Steph couldn't do it, but I could. I feel as if I shouldn't have to do something like that, but it can be one of my own last resorts. You already know that Steph won't refuse to help, but when she comes out of her non-person closet, she can either do it quietly or with the ACLU and a pack of civil-rights groups backing her. All I'm looking for here is quick and quiet action versus a guaranteed media circus."     "Doesn't the US government have access to similar flitters?"     "Yup, but there's no record of any of them being used underwater. Most of them are used as political limousines around Washington, I think. Besides, Steph would have her own... quarters... by then. A smaller device than a flitter."     Jeffries sat back and sipped his beer for a moment. Myra dropped one of the coins and leaned to retrieve it and Jeffries' eyes followed her every move in a manner that bespoke more of her attractiveness than any distrust of her.     The flitter rose and accelerated in the direction of Tampa without any comment or question from Steph, but I could almost feel her eyes on me.     I turned to face her and asked, "Do we have a problem?"     "I don't know yet. Would you really create a potentially damaging exposé about the submarine?"     Smiling at her and nodding, I said, "Sure. It never hurts to give people a reason to look closely at their government. Public apathy is why too many of the wrong people have been in public offices. If the right people had been in those offices in the sixties, they'd have made a show of trying to find a way to get that sub out of there instead of lying about it. Same thing today. Nobody wants to be the whistleblower or be saddled with the responsibility of getting the sub back to shore. If the situation goes public, they'll have to get off the damned dime about it at long last."     I didn't look to see how Jeffries and Myra took my remarks. It didn't matter and I didn't want to open further discussion on that issue, anyway.     "Jeffries," I said, "There's something I'd like to talk about before we visit Wilmot. We'll stay aboard the flitter for a few minutes and let Steph and Myra go on in, okay?"     He raised an eyebrow, but nodded and said, "Fine."     "Thank you. Myra, we'll give you a ride to wherever after the meeting, so you can leave your bags aboard if you want. Or not. Doesn't matter."     Myra glanced at the bags and said, "There's nothing in them but some used clothing that probably isn't even my size. I think they can stay aboard." Chapter Seven     We settled to the sidewalk in front of George Wilmot's offices and Steph and Myra headed into the building with the coins, knife, and buckle in an opaque transport field.     I keyed my comm implant and said softly, "Steph, put a total barrier field around Myra's luggage, please."     Jeffries looked around, then at me oddly. A dome of opaqueness surrounded Myra's luggage and Jeffries stepped back a pace quickly.     Steph's warm voice seemed to surround us as she appeared by the console and said, "I scanned her luggage, Ed. There's no transmitting device."     "Take every precaution, ma'am. Never assume you have all the bases covered. The NSA is a slick bunch, and I'm sure they have access to some of the Amaran technology."     "According to their records..."     "Don't believe everything you read in their records, Steph. Records lie."     Jeffries' jaw dropped. "She has access to NSA records..?"     "Yup. Steph, you remember the records you found that said that I owned a red Opel four-door sedan in Germany?"     "Yes."     "Did you spot anything unusual about those records?"     "Yes. The date on the registration forms, but I assumed that was a typographical error."     "Like I said; never assume anything. It wasn't a typo, milady. I've never owned a red car. Not once. Some bright soul registered the car in my name a couple of days after I'd left Germany. They used it on a decoy run and parked it at 42nd MP Customs in Mannheim a few days later. Never, ever, completely trust any agency's records, Steph. Particularly any intelligence agency's records."     Steph's slightly distracted gaze told me she was reviewing someone's stash of twenty year old data.     "I see. Indeed, Ed, a man named Canfield signed as a witness when the car was bought and again when it was sold as an abandoned vehicle. In each case a man named Allison produced power of attorney documentation stating that he was acting on your behalf."     "Allison and Canfield both worked in the Kaiserslautern office of my outfit. If anything questionable had happened, I could have proved that I'd been elsewhere. While you're at it, could you see if they did anything else in my name that might have caused me trouble?"     "An apartment was rented in your name in Ramstein two days after you left Germany. The lease was for a period of six months. I can't find anything else bought or rented in your name or any record of activities involving that apartment."     "You probably won't, either. They likely just kept it as a contingency safe house for a while."     I then asked her to drop the concealment field surrounding the gold in the back of the flitter. Jeffries froze, staring at the half-ton or so of treasure for some moments before he turned to me.     "It's been here all the time..?"     I nodded. "Yup. There's probably no place on Earth safer than Steph's deck. We'll need to make arrangements to put it where you can reach it. We'll also want to set some quick-sale prices, because we won't want to sit on it."     Jeffries rose to go over to the pile and said, "No problem, but Jesus, that's a big pile! Why is some of it clean and some of it still encrusted?"     "Some of it will go to museums. They'll want to clean some of their own and may want to display some of it as it was found, along with pictures of the wreck."     After several minutes of inspecting bars, coins, and jewelry, Jeffries stood up and came back to his seat, where he downed about half of his beer and said, "Right, then. My God. Okay, I think it's time to go upstairs and see George. Has he seen this, as well?"     "Just a sampling. Not the whole pile. Steph, you can put the field back up now."     The pile of treasure again disappeared. Jeffries stared at the spot for a moment, then got up to go over there.     I said, "Careful. You could trip over something."     Jeffries watched his arm seemingly disappear as he reached tentatively into the field surrounding the gold. He brought out a coin and stared at it for a moment, then reached to put it back and straightened up.     "By God, that's a damned fine trick," he said with a grin. "Damned fine."     "Thank you," said Steph.     "Steph," I said, "You can remove the luggage field now. We're going inside."     The opaque dome winked out of existence, as did Steph. We left the flitter and watched it ascend above the height of the building to hover and wait for us.     Jeffries shook his head slightly and said, "I will have to get one of those someday."     When we got upstairs we discovered that Myra had introduced herself to Wilmot as our "NSA liaison" and had described her reason for being there as "verification purposes" in the matter of Stephanie Montgomery's residency application. Wilmot seemed unimpressed.     We went over some of the details of Steph's application's progress through the maze of examinations and approvals it had already survived. The app had apparently been put on hold after being forwarded to Washington.     With a glance at Myra, Wilmot said, "Now we know why. All I can do is push through the usual channels. If the application is stalled too long or refused entirely, we can buy her legal residency or citizenship in one of the lesser nations as a stopgap measure and try to get her a US visa."     Looking at me, he said, "That's when we'd use publicity as pressure. I'd hesitate to play that card too soon, Ed."     "I'd hate to play it at all, George. Think of all the calls and letters we'd have to answer. All the public appearance requests." With a grin, I added, "I'm kind of shy, you know, so we'd probably refer them all to our lawyer."     Myra snickered and Steph and Jeffries allowed me a small smile each. Wilmot simply nodded and said, "Of course," as he assembled a folder of paperwork for Mrs. Javitz.     Patting one of the mounds of coins on his desk, Wilmot said to Stephanie, "About that inventory. Mrs. Javitz will show you which computer to use. Once I have the results, I'll draw up contracts for use when you have your Social Security number." Turning to Myra, he said, "Miss Berens -- Myra -- I'll need your signature as a witness to both the discovery and retrieval and to the donation. Yours, too, Don and Ed."     I grinned and said, "Take Myra with you and show her how fast you can type, Steph."     She looked at me blankly for a moment, then nodded.     Myra lifted an eyebrow and said, "Uh, huh. In other words, 'Get Myra out of here'?"     I shrugged. "Yup. The next item on our agenda doesn't concern you or the NSA, Myra. It's strictly private stuff."     As Steph and Myra left the room to print documents and the door closed behind them, I keyed my implant and said, "Steph, we'll need a copy of you in here."     Jeffries nearly scrambled out of his chair when Steph silently and instantly popped into being between us. She perched herself on the arm of my chair and smiled at him as he composed himself.     With a small smile of his own, Wilmot said, "Well, that was certainly entertaining. Don, are you feeling all right?"     Jeffries gave him a droll look.     Wilmot said, "Good. Stephanie, do you have exact weight figures for us?"     "Yes," she said. "Not counting what I've excluded for donations and the weight of the detritus on uncleaned items, there are 949 pounds and seven ounces of gold and 704 pounds, three ounces of silver."     Eyebrows went up, including mine. I'd never thought to ask Steph exactly how much stuff was sitting on the rear deck.     Jeffries said, "My God. Even at weight value alone, that's over four million Euros in gold."     Wilmot tapped his calculator for some moments, then said, "Over here we use dollars, you know. At a market low of $266.00 per ounce, that's about $4,040,806.00 in gold." After some more tapping, he added, "And about $49,011.00 in silver."     He stared at the figures on the calculator tape as Jeffries quietly said, "Well, congratulations, Miss Montgomery. Very well done, indeed."     With a small smile, Steph said, "Thank you, Mr. Jeffries."     Steph provided a detailed inventory to Wilmot's laptop, after which he printed two copies of the inventory. We discussed details until Wilmot had what he needed for contractual purposes, then we said our goodbyes and headed for the door. Steph's copy of herself disappeared and her original self greeted us in the outer office as we collected Myra and left.     Jeffries asked to be delivered to the Hilton near the airport. I surprised Myra by asking if she'd like to remain with Steph and me for a while and she said yes, so after dropping Jeffries at the Hilton, we headed north to Spring Hill.     As we traveled, I reviewed the meeting in Wilmot's office and looked for omissions or errors. None seemed obvious.     Jeffries, Wilmot, Steph, and I agreed that the best way to handle larger treasure purchases would be to issue Jeffries some samples and then deliver the purchases to buyers on a C.O.D. basis with Jeffries in attendance. Smaller purchases and deliveries would be handled directly by Jeffries, also C.O.D.     During the quick trip to Spring Hill, Myra began asking questions about Steph's and the flitter's capabilities; top speed, max altitude, max depth, and so on. I told her that most of the info she asked for was classified, and that drew me an odd look.     "Classified? I was under the impression that you were a civilian," she said. "Since when do they allow civilians to own and operate classified vehicles?"     "What were you told about me, Myra?"     She shook her head and said, "Damned little. I was grabbed from the break room when word came that a flitter was buzzing a commercial flight. My boss thought you might have had other reasons for being up there, so he told me to set up a blind near the flight's gate and watch for you. I was actually kind of surprised when you walked through the security checkpoint."     "You people move fast, don't you? You had maybe half an hour to be there and be in position."     Myra gave a little grin and said, "Twenty minutes or so, really, but the sheriff's department keeps a helicopter on the roof. Favors for favors."     My house became visible and our rate of descent again made Myra rather nervous. The muscles of her jaw clenched as her hands found the edges of her seat. Her eyes widened slightly and she glanced at me. I sipped my beer and smiled.     "Myra," I said, "Are we going out to eat or do you cook?"     She managed to say through clenched teeth, "Me? Cook? Ha. We'll either be going out or ordering a pizza."     Tiger was sitting in the kitchen window when we landed. He watched us disembark and head for the front door, then he hopped down. When we entered the house, he was sitting on the kitchen counter, either bathing or arranging his stripes.     "Hey, Tiger!" I said, "Howza kitty? Look what I brought you. Her name is Myra."     Myra asked, "You have a cat? I thought men went more for dogs. Man's best friend, and all that?"     I shook my head. "No dogs allowed in this house. Never. They're almost worse than kids."     With a grin, Myra said, "So strong an opinion about dogs and kids must have a reason behind it."     "If you're a dog lover, you won't like it."     She peered at me and said, "What if I'm a kid lover, too? Try me."     "You asked for it," I said. "I've seen dogs play with dirty diapers. They'll rip 'em apart and eat and wear the contents. I've seen them roll in another dog's shit. Dogs also bark, tear up lawns, furniture, and smaller animals, and they'll play with or eat what they find in a cat box. That's gonna be just before they come running to give you a big, sloppy kiss, of course. Small kids are only marginally different in that you can usually train a kid not to play with or eat the stuff in the cat box."     After blinking at me in silence for a moment, Myra said, "Well, you did warn me that I wouldn't like it."     Having examined Myra for some moments, Tiger said something that sounded like an inquiry. I looked to Steph for translation, but she seemed hesitant.     "C'mon, Steph," I said. "What did he say?"     With a glance at Myra, Steph said, "He asked if Myra is your new mate." Chapter Eight     I looked at Tiger and shook my head as I said, "No, Tiger. Selena is my mate. Sort of."     Steph translated my words, then Tiger's reply.     "He wants to know why you can't have more than one mate and why Selena doesn't live here with us."     "Tell him that one human mate is usually more than enough and that Selena has her own home."     As Steph translated again, Myra stared at Steph, then turned to me and asked, "Do you really expect me to believe that you two talk to a cat?"     I shrugged and said, "Believe what you want, Myra. It won't matter a damn to anyone but you. Would you like a drink? There's canned tea in the fridge and I have to make a call."     Myra followed me into the living room and took a seat on the couch as I sat in the sofa chair. When Steph and Tiger had finished their conversation, they joined us in the living room. Tiger hopped up on the coffee table to shamelessly study Myra and Steph sat on the other end of the couch from her.     "Steph," I said, "Would you call Linda and tell her we have a special guest? Send her the data you have on Myra, and if she okays it, would you put up a screen for us, please?"     Steph nodded and the translucent field screen that appeared above the coffee table resembled a three-foot-tall datapad, complete with the usual icons.     Myra startled almost violently when the screen appeared and her eyes bugged out a bit. Perhaps a full minute of silence passed until Linda's face appeared on the screen.     "Hi, Ed. Myra is an NSA standby operative. She now works in a personnel office, but she had a year of field work five years ago and she's received a letter of commendation for helping to root out some baddies during that period."     Glancing at Myra with a small grin, she added, "You were right to be cautious with her."     Myra continued staring at the screen in startlement, but said nothing as Linda rattled off a few other items of info, apparently reading from something on her desk.     I grinned and said, "Well, then, she should know at least one of the super-secret spook handshakes, right? What should I do with her, Linda? Feed her and send her back to them?"     "Feeding her is up to you. What does she want from you?"     "Hard to say. I could pump her for information, I guess, but she looks like a real hardcase to me. It might take more than a flitter ride and a dinner."     Myra said, "Just wait a minute. Linda, is it? Who are you and how do you have access to my file?"     Linda said, "Linda Baines, head of security for 3rd World Products, and at the moment, I'm kind of curious about why your boss felt it worthwhile to tag one of my people. Did Stan happen to mention his reasons for siccing you on Ed?"     "You know Stanley Maxwell?"     "We've met. Why did he send you to the airport today?"     "He just told me to try to make a firm contact, Ms. Baines. I assumed it concerned Stephanie's INS application and their midair visit with flight 949."     Altogether plausible. Maxwell wouldn't necessarily bother to tell her anything else.     The phone rang. After four rings, the answering machine began its spiel: "Hello. If you think you're someone I'd want to call back, leave a message." BEEP!     Accompanied by the sounds of traffic, Selena said, "It's me, Ed. Are you there? We're stopping by on the way to Clearwater beach. Toni's with me and we'll be there in a few minutes."     There were sounds of fumbling and what may have been the click of fingernails on the phone, then Toni said, "Hey, Ed! We're wearing our 'Daisy Dukes'! Think about that while you get ready to come with us!"     Amid laughter and giggles they clicked off and the answering machine cycled the message in the ensuing silence. On the screen, Linda was gazing impassively at me. Myra was staring at me. Only Steph -- stroking Tiger, who'd jumped into her lap -- seemed at all unimpressed by the call.     Linda asked, "What are 'Daisy Dukes'?"     Without taking her eyes off me, Myra said, "Cutoff shorts. Very short shorts, named for the sexy cousin who always wore them on 'The Dukes of Hazzard' TV show."     "I see," said Linda dryly. "Well, she did say they were going to the beach. Ed, who might Toni be, please?"     I sighed and said, "She's Selena's friend from school, mom. She doesn't do drugs or smoke or anything nasty like that."     Myra looked at me inquiringly and said, "School? She called you 'Ed', so she probably isn't your daughter."     "No," I said. "She isn't my daughter. Let's get back to why your boss wanted you to make contact with me."     Myra shrugged and said, "I don't know. Really. Nobody told me anything before they shoved some luggage from the Sheriff's lost & found at me and told me to get moving."     Linda said, "There were no spikes on my audio monitor, so that's actually fairly believable, Myra, but you'll understand if I don't simply take it as gospel. Dragonfly, you can do what you want about her, but all the usual cautions apply. I'll call Stan and see what's on his mind that would involve us."     I nodded. "Roger that, Fearless Leader."     She poked the 'off' icon at her end and the screen blanked. I looked at Myra and then at Steph before asking, "Well, what should we do with her, Steph?"     Steph smiled at me as she looked up from Tiger.     "If I were you, I'd consider how to explain Myra's presence to Selena and Toni before worrying about what to do with her. My data indicates that women frequently disapprove of discovering their men in the company of other women."     "No problem," I said. "I'll tell her that Myra's an NSA spook who's been assigned to watch me. Selena knows who I work for and what I used to do."     Steph's smile became broader as she said, "That's a bit simplistic, but it may work well enough."     With a grin, Myra said, "I could hide in the bathroom."     "No," said Steph. "Selena will probably have her big tea bottle with her, as usual. She'll almost certainly use the bathroom during her visit."     Myra tried to look troubled as she grinningly asked, "The closet, maybe?"     Steph shook her head. "That would probably also be ineffective. You wear a rather distinctive perfume, Myra. It would look worse if you were found hiding in the house."     Unsuccessfully trying to look worried past a grin, Myra asked, "Well, how about...?"     I sighed, stood up, and interrupted her with, "How about I put you on the flitter and send you up to a hundred miles until sometime tomorrow, smartass?"     Her hands up in mock capitulation, she said, "Uh, no, thanks anyway."     As I headed for the kitchen with my almost-empty coffee mug, I added, "I'll just tell her the truth and let Steph back me if necessary."     Myra grinned at Steph and asked, "The truth..? Gee, would that really work, do you think?"     "It has a chance, I suppose," said Steph thoughtfully, "I guess we'll soon know."     "That we will," I said over my shoulder as I entered the kitchen. "Steph, would you put my work history on screen for us? Just the highlights, please, and nothing that the NSA doesn't already have on file."     "May I first ask why, Ed?" asked Steph. "I can't seem to find a valid purpose or foundation for your request, and it does involve matters of security that Myra's not privy to at present."     As I rinsed my coffee mug, I looked back through the doorway and said, "It's just to let Myra know where she stands in case I decide to keep her around."     Myra gave me an odd, narrow look and asked, "Now, why would you do that? You know who I work for and I really wasn't expecting to be part of your life much longer."     "They'd just try to slip someone else in, Myra, and you'd get a briefing about me anyway if you stayed on the case. This way you'll get the info first hand. Scan the stuff and let me know when you're through. I'm going out to check the mail."     I made my coffee and went out to the mailbox, then took the day's postal loot to the bench on my porch and separated it into three piles; regular stuff, moderately important stuff, and garbage. For a change, the garbage pile was the smallest.     One of the little lizards that live around my house was stalking a hefty fly that had landed on the arm of the bench. The lizard approached in cautious scootings toward the fly and the fly turned to face the lizard. I sent a field tendril to pin the fly to the bench and the lizard continued inching forward, unaware of my assistance.     Keying my implant, I asked, "Steph, how's Myra taking the news? I'd bet nobody told her anything about me and it's entirely possible they didn't know about you. At her office they probably still think you're just a flitter guidance system."     "She's reading with visibly apparent interest, Ed. May I again ask why you're showing her this?"     When the lizard was a few inches from the fly, it moved with lightning speed and the fly disappeared. I tapped the lizard's tail with the field tendril and it dove off the bench arm to the ground.     "She could be useful, Steph, either as a source of info or a means of funneling it back to her offices. This is just a hook to snag her personal interest, because I plan to try to keep her involved. Better a demon you know than a demon you don't. How far along is she?"     "She's still working her way through the seventies, Ed."     "Good enough. I'll give her a few minutes..." Selena's Mercury Sable turned the corner and I amended, "Make that a very few minutes. Selena's here. Leave the screen as it is when we come in."     "Okay, but neither Selena nor Toni are cleared to view some of the later files. I may have to stop or alter the display."     "That's fine. Whatever you think is best. Thanks, Steph."     A few moments later, Steph said, "Ed, Myra excused herself to go to the bathroom. In the hallway, she activated an electronic listening device and put it behind the doorbell's chime cover."     "No problem, Steph. We'll let her feel as if she's doing her job for now and get the gadget later."     I walked out to meet Selena's car as it pulled into the driveway. With a finger to my lips, I cautioned them to be quiet and received exactly the 'what's going on?' looks that I'd expected as the ladies kissed me hello.     Stepping back, I examined Selena from head to toe, spending an extra second or two on her legs, then said, "Got your message, ma'am. I love your legs, you know." Giving Toni the same appraising gaze, I said, "Your legs ain't bad, either, lady. Wow."     She smiled. "Does that mean that you're going to pry yourself loose and come with us to the beach?"     "Don't know yet. We have a guest," I said. "She's inside with Steph, going over some of my service records."     "Why?" asked Selena, easing her car door shut.     "She's with the NSA," I said. "She showed up at the airport with fake ID and borrowed luggage. I figured it would be better if I cooperated for the moment."     Toni nodded and eased her own door shut as she said, "Are you in some kind of trouble, Ed?"     I shrugged and said, "No, they sent the woman in there -- Myra Berens -- to try to meet and hook up with us covertly. They also want us to think Steph's US residency application set off an alarm somewhere."     Toni asked, "Do you think that's the real reason?"     Grinning, I said, "No, ma'am, not really."     Selena asked, "So why's she going over your service records?"     I grinned and said, "I've already called Linda about her. This is just a way to keep Miz Myra busy for a little while and make her cautious about playing the usual games. By the way, she planted a bug in the hallway."     Toni shriekingly whispered, "She what? Don't they need some kind of warrant to do that?"     "To make an arrest stick, yes. But this isn't that kind of surveillance, and I've no doubt that they could get a workable warrant from somedamnedwhere if they felt a need for one. Look, they undoubtedly already know about us, ladies. What they don't know is what they're listening for, so just be yourselves. Business as usual."     Sel said, "Geez, Ed, now I don't even want to go in there."     "Neither do I," said Toni. "What are you going to do?"     "Steph will disable the bug later, when we aren't here. Wouldn't it look unusual that you've dropped by my house, but you won't come inside?"     I received narrow looks from both women and said, "Like I said, just be yourselves. No biggie."     We headed for the porch and quietly moved the bench to one side so we could look in through the kitchen window. Myra was still sitting as I'd left her, gazing at the field screen in front of her as she poked the 'down' icon to scroll the data.     Selena whispered, "Does she know that Steph's not a real human person?"     I nodded. "She's been aboard the flitter, too. By the way, if anyone happens to ask -- anyone, known to you or not -- flitters can't fly above one hundred miles, and that's the absolute truth until that order is rescinded. Linda and I have reason to believe that someone wants to use them to haul stuff into space, and until we know why, it ain't gonna happen." Chapter Nine     The ladies nodded and returned to watching Myra read. I gathered my mail from the bench and opened the front door, then ushered them into the house.     Myra punched the screen's 'off' icon and turned around as she heard us enter the front hallway. When her eyes fell on Selena and Toni, they widened slightly in surprise.     "What?" asked Toni. She glanced down at herself and said, "My fly isn't open."     Selena snickered as we moved into the living room.     Myra said, "I, uh... Well, I guess I was expecting to see a couple of, uhm... Well, typical college girls."     Steph said, "According to my readings, that statement wasn't entirely the truth, Myra."     Myra glanced at Steph in startlement, then her eyes narrowed and she snapped, "Well, okay. Maybe I was expecting the kind of college girls who couldn't come up with boyfriends their own age. So sorry."     "Oh, lordy, my poor feelings," I said. "I think one of them has done been mashed flat."     "To hell with your feelings," said Selena. "She thought we'd be a couple of dogs."     Myra said, "Well, no, not exactly. When I heard you were in college, I thought you'd be a little younger, really. You two are close to thirty, aren't you?"     Selena said, "As if you had room to talk, sweetie. What are you? Pushing forty?"     I stepped between the ladies and said, "Whoa. Hold it. Everybody step back a pace and relax, please. Let's call this a bad start and either try again or forget it quietly, okay?"     Toni glowered at Myra as she said, "I'll go with 'forget it'."     "Same here," said Selena. "If she can find her way back to wherever she came from, I say let's let her do it and get going, Ed. We're running out of daylight."     Toni said, "I don't care if she can find her way back or not. Let's just dump her somewhere. How about offshore?"     Tiger hopped onto the coffee table and said something that took a couple of seconds to finish, then sat down. Steph smiled and said something in Tigerspeak. The three human women in the room looked at Tiger and Steph.     Selena said, "I wish he'd learn English, dammit."     Toni said, "He probably has, kind of, but he can't make the words."     Myra glanced at her, realized that she was completely serious, and then peered at each woman in turn.     Steph said, "Tiger wanted to know if the women would fight over you, Ed. I told him that wasn't likely."     I said, "Well, gee, thanks a helluva lot. One of my other feelings just got smushed and Tiger looks disappointed as hell." I looked at the ladies and asked, "You ladies aren't gonna fight over me?"     Myra gave me a wry smile and said, "Sorry. We girls just don't seem to like each other very much. It isn't quite worth a real fight yet."     'Girls?' Not 'women' or 'ladies'? I guess it's like when black guys call each other 'nigger'. It's okay for them to use the word, but not for anyone else.     Selena said, "No shit. She's right about that much."     "Yeah," said Toni. "I'm not gonna break a nail on her. Not yet, anyway."     "Can we agree on something else?" I asked, "Like maybe that we're all here for different reasons and there's no need to keep this animosity going? If you can all relax for a minute or two, I'll get my stuff for the beach and we can go. Myra, where do you want to be dropped off?"     Myra asked, "After what we did today and showing me your file, you're just going to call it a day?"     I shrugged and said, "Yup. You three aren't getting along."     Toni glanced sharply at me and asked, "What's she talking about? What did you do today?"     "We took her with us when we showed Jeffries a wreck and brought up some stuff. She thinks it's a big deal."     "It is a big deal!" Myra said angrily. "That flitter is a tool that can bring substantial amounts of history into the present and you're going to use it to go to the damned beach!"     I gave her a flat gaze and said, "Yeah, well, it's my tool, ma'am, so what I do with it is my business. How come you government types aren't using your own flits for such high-falutin' purposes? Steph, how many of the non-commercial flits does the NSA have or have access to at present?"     Steph instantly replied, "Five, but four of them have to come from a diplomatic pool."     Laughing, I said, "I was right. They're using them like those stretch-limo hummers. What putzes these bureaucrats be."     Myra's eyes had opened slightly at my mention of her agency's name in front of Sel and Toni, then they'd narrowed and remained that way.     "Yeah," I said, "I told them who you work for, Myra. If you're studying me, they're involved. Steph, can those pool flits go underwater and retrieve stuff like you?"     She smiled. "Yes, they can, Ed."     "How many of them are being used as recovery or rescue vehicles, ma'am?"     "None. All except one are designated for official use by senior officials only."     "Woo. Limo duty, like I said. And the other one?"     "Its uses have not been openly recorded, but it has participated in forty-seven surveillance operations and training simulations in and around Washington, DC."     "Well, there you have it, Myra. There should be lots of historical junk down there that you can reach with one of those flitters. Have 'em pull one off limo duty and let some fat cat walk off a few pounds. My flit's off limits to them."     Myra glared at me for some moments, then tightly said, "I see. In that case, you can drop me at my office, Ed."     I nodded. "Good enough." Turning to Selena and Toni, I said, "Give me five minutes and we're outta here, ladies," then I headed for the bathroom to take a leak and wash my hands.     Keying my implant as the toilet flushed and the tap water ran, I quietly said, "Steph, see if Myra wants to continue reading. She's not the type to give up; she'll be looking for something she can use to hook me."     Steph asked, "Do you want her to find such a hook?"     "If there was a useable hook in my records, someone at the NSA would have found it already and they wouldn't have sent a third-string backup to tag me. I just want her to think there's a chance of finding one."     "May I ask why?"     "Same as before; she may come in handy later, Steph."     In the bedroom, I grabbed my swim trunks and a towel, then headed for the kitchen past the ladies. Myra was again reading the screen, accompanied by Toni, who gave me an odd look as I passed them. Selena joined me in the kitchen as I grabbed some drink refills for the flitter's cooler.     She said, "You look at Myra the way you used to look at Phyllis Deare and her yappy little dog. You don't like her very much, do you?"     "Nope. Sure don't. She's sneaky and manipulative. 'Course, some of that may only be because she's a career spook."     "But you're letting her see your file, so you're going to keep her dangling and try to use her somehow, aren't you?"     "You got it. As long as they think they have someone on the inside, maybe they won't send others. The feds want Steph and me to do something, Sel, but they won't come right out and ask. That usually means they're holding off until they think they have some kind of strong upper hand in the matter. Steph's INS app was a convenient excuse to let the NSA get involved. Myra may be a way to find out what they're up to."     I leaned to kiss her cheek and said, "Myra's involved now, if only because we gave her a few of the treasure coins and there'll be a record of it. She'll have to show them to her bosses and deal with the system, and the fact that we gave her a piece of the loot today will probably make her bosses leave her in place. Let's haul this stuff to the flitter."     As we headed for the front door with the drinks, I said, "Steph, see if Tiger wants to go to the beach, please."     As Myra staringly watched, Steph put up another vid field that held a picture of the Clearwater Pier and surroundings, then said something catty to Tiger.     Tiger studied the picture for a moment, then replied in a way that I knew to be cautiously positive.     "Okay," I said. "Elkor, do you want to come, too?"     Elkor's cat-golem materialized next to Tiger and said, "Yes, Ed. Tiger will have questions and I wish to observe."     Myra had squeaked and recoiled mightily when Elkor's field-generated cat appeared out of nowhere. Her minor state of shock made Sel and Toni giggle and snicker, then laugh.     "Myra," I said, "This is Elkor. He's kind of like Steph. Elkor, meet Myra. She's kind of like I used to be, jobwise."     Myra ignored the snickers and my words in favor of reaching a tentative hand toward Elkor.     He sat still as a statue as her fingers touched his head, then said, "Hello, Myra. Such familiarization gestures aren't necessary. I'm obviously not a real cat."     Again she recoiled, yanking her hand back, but a moment later she managed, "Uh... I guess not... Hello, uh... Elkor?"     Elkor morphed into a platter-sized disk that hovered above the coffee table and Tiger jumped aboard, regarding Myra rather skeptically as he sat down.     Tiger said something to Steph which she chucklingly translated as, "Myra startles too easily and may not be a good... the closest word is 'hunter'."     I said, "I think Myra can probably 'hunt' just fine, Tiger, but she sure isn't doing very well at meeting new people today."     Steph translated and Tiger agreed in a definite tone.     Returning Tiger's gaze, Myra muttered, "Well, by God, I guess I'm not in Kansas anymore."     The Elkor disk said, "No, Myra. We are currently in the state of Florida..."     Interrupting him, Myra said, "No, I meant... Elkor, that's just something people say when they're surprised."     "May I ask why?"     "Uh, well... There's a movie...about a little girl who..."     "Elkor," I said, "Reference Dorothy in "The Wizard of Oz". It's a line from the movie that they made from the book."     He almost instantly responded, "Thank you, Ed. I have done so and I understand the reference now."     Myra's eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she asked, "You have done so? What does that mean? That you looked up that individual line?"     "Yes, Myra," said Elkor. "I watched the movie in order to immediately understand the reference, then I read the book in order to grasp other aspects of the story that the movie failed to define adequately."     Staring at me, Myra almost whispered, "Jesus...Other aspects..? He read... and watched it? That fast..?"     "Yeah, he's pretty quick," I said with a grin. "So's Steph."     Myra silently organized herself as she absorbed Elkor's actions, determinedly got to her feet, and reached to pet Tiger, who accepted the gesture without comment.     "Steph," I asked, "How's your stash of cat food? Should I refill your stash?"     "There are thirty-one ounces of kibble aboard," she said without looking at me. Her attention seemed focused on Myra, who was unable to take her eyes off a complacently floating Tiger as Elkor's disk carried him to the front door.     I picked up the big cooler and said, "Well, then, we're ready, group."     Selena held the door for us as we trooped out of the house. As I put the drinks aboard the flitter, I saw Sel take a moment to whisper something to Toni as she locked and closed the door. To give them a few more moments, I put some new drinks in the flitter cooler and shuffled the cold ones to the top.     Elkor floated Tiger over to the 'dashboard' and let him step off the disk, then the disk became a cat which joined Tiger to sit and watch the rest of us. Elkor's cat's eyes met Myra's and they stared at each other for some time.     When Sel and Toni came aboard, Toni said, "Myra, Sel and I talked it over and, well... My other swimsuit's in the car. If you want to come to the beach with us, I'll get it." Chapter Ten     Myra was more than a little surprised by her offer. For that matter, so was I.     "Uh, thanks," said Myra, "But there are lots of little stores near the beach and I really could use a new one. I'll get something there. Thanks for offering, though."     Toni took a seat and dropped her sports bag on the deck as she said with a grin, "De nada. We're just going along with things to find out why Ed's keeping you around."     In a sweet tone, Myra said, "He might even tell you if you ask him."     "That's a secret," I said, then said to Sel and Toni, "You ladies are welcome to interrogate me later, though."     Selena laughed and said, "Oh, he'll tell us, Myra. We know how to loosen him up."     Myra glanced at me as I sat down in the pilot's seat.     "That they do," I admitted with a grin. "About some things, anyway. Steph, let's make the trip last fifteen minutes or so. Sel, you're in charge of refreshments. I'll have a beer, thanks."     She gave me one of those 'Oh, is that so?' looks, then opened the cooler and tossed me an Ice House.     "Who else wants what?" asked Selena.     Myra opted for tea; Toni took a beer. Selena pulled a beer for herself and closed the cooler, then sat back and rather pointedly gazed at the tea in Myra's hand.     "Okay," said Sel. "Everybody's got something to hang onto now. When do we get moving?"     Without replying, Steph launched the flitter in a slightly southwesterly arc at barely subsonic speed. Myra made a small, high-pitched noise, then clammed up as she gripped her seat tightly and stared over the side.     Toni's eyes were also as wide as I'd ever seen them as she watched the world pass below. She still wasn't altogether comfortable with flying.     Selena sipped her beer and tried to appear fairly complacent, but the tremors in her hands betrayed her. I grinned at her and sipped my own beer.     "Hey," said Selena, "The last time we landed in public, we drew a crowd. How do we avoid that at a beach?"     "Land where people aren't," said Toni. "A roof, maybe?"     "The water," said Myra. "We can jump in where it isn't crowded. Who's going to notice a few more swimmers?"     "Tiger wouldn't care for that," said Toni, "And some of the fish near shore are big enough to eat him."     "Yeah, and what about later?" asked Selena, "When we're ready to leave? Are we going to line up and tread water like frogmen, waiting for Steph to come along and scoop us out of the drink?"     On they went in that vein for some moments until Toni turned to me and asked, "How come you haven't tossed up an idea about this, Ed?"     "Don't need one," I said. "I already know what we're gonna do. There's a restaurant with a courtyard. Steph will set down outside the wall. We'll hop off and go inside using the flitter's field for cover. Tiger will wait on the flitter until we're situated on the beach, then the flitter will bring him down to join us."     In a sardonic tone, Myra said, "Right. Sure. A thing the size of this flitter is going to land unnoticed near a restaurant on a public beach."     Sel said, "No, he's right. People will just see the wall. They might think that something was wrong with their eyes for a few seconds, but by then we'd be off and inside."     Elkor explained the plan to Tiger, who gave his ear-flick equivalent of a shrug and turned to the front to watch the world go by. Some minutes later the Clearwater Pier became visible, and a few moments later we were hovering unnoticed above the restaurant.     Steph set us down just beyond the restaurant's cement walkway outside the stucco wall and we all jumped off the flitter's deck at the same time, then stood quietly waiting with our towels and cooler within Steph's field as a small herd of people went past us.     One of the guys in the group seemed to sense something and looked back, but he saw nothing and shook his head as if to clear it as he turned to join the others of his gaggle. A waiter glanced around and asked if he was the last of his group.     "This is so cool," breathed a grinning Toni.     Sel and Myra returned her grin with grins of their own, then they looked at Steph. She gave them a small smile and sent the flitter upward quickly, which caused us to become visible almost instantly.     We tossed our beer bottles and tea can into a nearby trash container and trooped into the restaurant past the one person -- the same waiter -- who seemed somewhat startled by our abrupt appearance.     He looked searchingly out and around the front of the restaurant, then back at us, and then his sense of duty prevailed and he offered to take us to a table.     After seating us and presenting us with menus, the waiter said that he'd return in a few minutes and headed toward the rear bar, looking back at us a couple of times on the way.     Sel and Toni developed a case of the giggles over the waiter's confusion. Myra tried to seem above such a girlish display, but after he looked back at us from the bar, she, too, was soon giggling with them.     The ladies shared a small mixed seafood snack platter while I picked my way through a surprisingly tiny and expensive Caesar salad. Call me old school or whatever, but I feel that five bucks ought to buy you more than small soupbowl's worth of damned near anything edible.     Conversation was sparse, as I'd expected. While present among us, Myra wasn't really a member of our group and Sel and Toni seemed to talk around her.     Steph didn't disappear as she usually did at mealtimes. Her demeanor was generally attentive regarding what was being said at our table, but I knew that no smallest thing being said or happening within the restaurant escaped her attention.     My belief was borne out when a woman at a table behind Steph elbowed a wine glass. The glass tumbled once on its way to the floor, landed right side up, and the wine that would otherwise have splattered all over the floor seemed to coalesce in mid-air to pour itself back into the glass.     As the people at that table -- and ours -- began to blather about the event, I glanced at Steph and nodded with a small smile as I softly said, "Good catch, milady."     Smiling back, she said, "Thank you."     Myra had seen the event and heard me compliment Steph. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she asked, "You did that?"     Steph nodded and said, "Yes."     "But you couldn't have seen..." Her words trailed off as she realized that she was obviously wrong about that. "How..?"     Myra glanced at me questioningly.     "Stephie's a true creature of magic," I said. "It would take about a week to explain it reasonably well, and she'd have to do all the explaining."     Looking at Steph and taking her hand in mine, I added, "I take the simple route with it, Myra. I just assume that Steph can do almost anything and I let her know fairly often how very wonderful I think she is. Right, Steph?"     With a raised eyebrow, Steph replied, "You haven't called me wonderful today, Ed."     I instantly responded, "You're wonderful, Steph."     Sel and Toni snickered as Steph said, "Thank you. It's so nice to feel appreciated."     Myra's eyes narrowed further as they came to rest on Steph's hand in mine.     "Are you two romantically involved?" she asked. "Is that even possible?"     Before I could speak, Steph said, "It might be possible in some manner, but we're just good friends, Myra. Things are much less complicated that way." Glancing at me, Steph added, "Don't you agree, Ed?"     It was an odd turn in the conversation and it had taken me somewhat by surprise.     I returned Steph's look with one of mild startlement as I said, "Yeah. Less complicated that way."     Myra grinned and said, "You don't seem convinced, Ed."     I sighed as I switched my gaze to Myra and ignored the sudden attentions of Sel and Toni.     "Well, Myra, she's never expressed a desire to explore the pleasures of the flesh."     With a grin at Steph, Myra asked, "What if she did, Ed? You, ah... You think you'd be up to something like that?"     I dislike sexual innuendoes and inferred gender challenges, mostly because I've learned over the years that you can't really trust people who initiate them. Such people always seem to have some kind of an agenda, even when they're just joking.     But when I looked at Steph, she seemed as interested in my answer as Myra. There was a profound silence from the other side of the table. Sel and Toni were also waiting for my answer, as well.     Okay, then.     I let my irritation show as I said, "It would be a personal matter, Myra." I nodded at Sel and Toni, then at Steph and added, "To be discussed among only four of the people at this table." Sliding my chair back, I stood up and said, "I'm going to the restroom, ladies. Hold the fort and all that."     As I threaded my way among the tables toward the restrooms, I thought about what had just happened. Had Myra's questions been honest curiosity? Possible.     On the other hand, although my relationships with Sel and Toni hadn't been stated outright, Myra would undoubtedly have guessed that we were somewhat more than just friends.     Myra might have been using the turn of conversation to try to create a wedge between me and Selena and Toni; something entirely possible if she intended to try to "comfort" me after a squabble with Sel and Toni.     I keyed my comm implant and said, "Steph, I'm going to assume that Myra's question was the beginning of a divisive ploy. How are the ladies handling the turn of conversation?"     "Selena told Myra that if she couldn't manage better conversation, she might be better off to shut up. Toni suggested that they dropped the house on the wrong witch. Would you like to hear what's being said at the moment?"     "Yes, ma'am. I would."     Selena's voice suddenly said, "It isn't that far to Tampa, Myra. You could call a friend, if you have any."     Myra said in a perky tone, "Oh, no, thanks! I'll stay for the time being. Things are just getting interesting."     Toni said, "You pull something like that again and I'll forget you're so much older than us, you got that?"     "Oh," said Myra, "I'm just all a-tremble. Are all those muscles just for show, Toni? Are you just a gym rat, or can you actually use them?"     "I'd love to show you," said Toni. "It wouldn't take long."     Stephanie said, "There will be no violence," in a flat, iron-laced tone that I'd never heard her use before.     I took a leak as I listened to the silence that followed her statement, then Myra asked, "If Toni came at me, what would you do about it, Steph?"     "I would immobilize and separate you from each other until you calmed down."     Myra's expression must have caused Sel to say, "She can do it, Myra. Believe it."     As I left the restroom, our waiter eyed me in an examining manner. The gaze didn't seem to be one of sexual interest, although the waiter seemed pretty obviously gay. His eyes flicked nervously to our table and then back to me as he chewed his lip.     I stopped and asked him, "What's the problem?" as Myra said to Steph, "Okay. Say she can do it. Then what?" Chapter Eleven     As the waiter seemed to gather himself up to say something, Steph said, "After people calmed enough, we'd decide what to do as a group."     "What if I didn't want to wait?" asked Myra. "What if I'd rather just leave?"     "Oh, hey, that'll work," said Selena.     "Yeah," said Toni. "Fine with me."     Steph said, "Unlikely, however. Leaving would defeat your purpose in having started this altercation."     The waiter glanced toward the ladies and carefully, cautiously said, "Uh, sir, I think there may be a problem at your table. If... Uh, if that's the case..."     I looked toward the table as I held up a hand to interrupt him and listened. As the waiter had spoken to me, Myra had asked, "My purpose? And what purpose would that be?"     "To instill divisiveness," said Steph. "To sow seeds of discord and drive Selena and Toni away from Ed, if only temporarily. I believe that you think that once Ed's alone, you would be able to take advantage of the situation."     "You think I want Ed for myself?"     "No," said Steph. "I think you were told to make a firm, useable connection with him as quickly as possible. You appear to think that if you can irritate Selena and Toni enough to drive them away for a time, you'll have or be able to create an opportunity to secure that connection while they're absent."     Returning my attention to the waiter, I said, "Yeah, sure, guy. No sweat. If there's a war brewing, I'll see if I can get everybody outside before it really gets underway, okay? Why don't I pay the tab while I'm back here by the bar register? Got the ticket on you?"     Selena said, "Huh. I can guess what kind of connection she's got in mind, too. She's a regular Mata Hari, isn't she?"     "Yes, sir," said the waiter. "It's behind the register. I'll get it. Thank you."     I watched the waiter riffle through the tickets as Toni sharply hissed, "Hey, bitch! You touch him and I'll rip your goddamned head off, you understand me?!"     A chair slid back noisily and someone at a table near ours gasped. When I looked up from the ticket riffling, Toni was angrily striding toward the restaurant's entrance. Selena was glaring at Myra. Steph looked across the room at me.     "Yup," I said to the waiter, "I think it's definitely time to get back there."     The waiter hurriedly produced our ticket and seemed surprised when I paid it with cash. I told him to keep the change and started back to our table.     Selena sat glaring at Myra as I walked past the table and said, "Everybody sit tight for a minute," on my way to the front door.     I found Toni just outside the entrance, pacing back and forth like a big cat, trembling with rage. She saw me and stopped pacing.     "Are you gonna keep that bitch with us much longer?!" she asked tightly. "I had to leave before I punched her."     "If I dump her now they'll just send someone else at us, Toni. Maybe more than one. We'd have to assume that anyone any of us met anywhere at all could be working for the agency or an affiliate."     "Are you sure they'll do that? Myra got caught. No reason to think we wouldn't spot the next one, too."     "I'm sure, Toni. They want something and they're trying to find a way to get it through me."     "You mean Steph, or use of her? This is a free country, Ed. All you have to do is say 'no'. Wouldn't that about cover it?"     I sat down on the old-style wrought iron park bench by the restaurant entrance and said, "No, it isn't quite that simple, Toni. These aren't the kind of people who play fair and politely take 'no' for an answer. Myra poked and prodded and now she knows which of us is most reactive. Do you have anything to hide, past or present? Anything that you wouldn't necessarily want friends or family to know about?"     Toni's eyes narrowed questioningly. She stood in front of me, silently staring at me for some moments before stiffly saying, "No. My family knows I'm bi. The only way they could make trouble is through the school. I think. Shit. Ed, what the hell have you gotten us into?"     "Toni," I said, "I haven't exposed you to anything today by bringing her home or bringing her along. These people would have rooted out my friends, family, and acquaintances and studied them as a matter of course, and they'd have done it while waiting for an opportunity to make contact. In other words, it was too late to worry about that well before Myra showed up. I let Myra come with us so that you and Sel could see what we might be up against."     "We already knew she was a bitch, Ed. This just confirmed it."     "That's your personal dislike of her, a dislike that she's deliberately cultivated. Forget that for a minute, okay? It's simple manipulation. Myra tried to drive the beginnings of a wedge between us. Divide and conquer, and all that crap."     Toni's voice rose an octave as she asked, "Why the hell don't they just ask for whatever it is they want? Why play all these goddamned games?"     I took her hand.     "Toni, they obviously have reason to believe that I won't want to go along with their program, so they're looking for what they'd euphemistically call 'insurance'. People like them don't like to ask for cooperation, ma'am. They prefer to be able to command it. I need some time to fish Myra for information and maybe plant some info that will run them in circles. Do you think you can stand her for a while longer today?"     Toni sighed and said, "No, but I think I can fake it if I have to. What now?"     I gently pulled her down to sit by me and kissed her softly.     "Well, Toni, Myra's as pale as a ghost, compared to just about anyone else in Florida, so let's just play at the beach for a while, bore her shitless, and maybe send her back to her office with a decent sunburn. How's that?"     Toni grinned and said, "I'll hide the goddamned sunscreen."     "Kewl. Let me check in with Steph." I keyed my implant and asked, "Things are better out here, Steph. Any further excitement in there?"     "No, Ed, but the waiter has politely expressed an interest in seeing us leave."     "Make him happy, then. The bill's paid and he's been tipped. Take command and lead the troops out of there whenever you're ready, milady. We're just outside the door."     Steph left the link open as she said, "It's time to go."     I heard two chairs slide, then Myra's voice said, "He hasn't come back yet. Didn't he say to wait here?"     "Stay here if you want," said Selena. "We're leaving now."     "You're leaving because this... computerized ghost... says to?" asked Myra.     Selena asked sharply, "You got a problem with that?"     With a snort, Myra said, "Well, yes, actually. Computers take orders, they don't give them."     Selena hissed, "Well, then, it's a damned good thing you have cab fare."     There were footsteps and the waiter's tersely offered, "Thank you" without any sort of invitation to return, then the somewhat fainter sound of a chair sliding and other rapid footsteps as Myra caught up with Steph and Sel.     Myra asked, "What if they aren't through talking?"     Selena asked, "Why aren't you through talking, Myra?"     "Since when do computers give orders to people?"     With a sigh, Selena rather patronizingly said, "Steph made an announcement based on available data. Right, Steph?"     "Indeed so, Selena. That was an accurate assessment."     "What available data?" asked Myra.     "She's fucking telepathic," snapped Selena. "Hadn't you figured that out yet, Ms. Superspy?"     Toni and I stood up as Steph and Selena appeared, followed by Myra, who wore a slightly alarmed expression that she quickly masked.     Steph, Sel, and Toni hugged a greeting and stood together to one side of me in a rather unsubtle display of solidarity as Myra watched with a slightly sardonic expression.     "Where are you going to be on the beach?" asked Myra, then she gestured to the walkway that ran around the building toward the street. "I need to get a swimsuit and a towel. It won't take me more than a few minutes."     Toni laughed, "If you can't find us on a goddamned beach, you aren't much of a secret agent. Come to think of it..."     "Go get a suit, Myra," I said, interrupting Toni's razz. "We'll be somewhere near the pier."     With a small, tight smile at Toni and an examining look at Selena, Myra nodded and headed up the walkway in what can only be described as a march step with a bit of Marilyn roll.     As I took the cooler from Selena, Toni gave Myra the finger and said, "Stop looking at her ass, Ed."     "I will if you will, sweetie."     Toni smacked my arm almost lightly and said, "A goddamned sunburn's too good for her."     "What?" asked Selena.     "A sunburn," said Toni. "We decided to hide the sunscreen and fry her pale, skinny ass."     I glanced at Myra's retreating form. "Skinny?"     "What-ever, okay?"     Selena smiled and shrugged and said, "Yeah. Sure. Good enough for now. But a sunburn's not enough."     As we turned to head for the beach, Toni sighed loudly in exasperation and said, "That's what I just said."     "Steph," I said, "Let me know who Myra calls while she's away from us, please."     Steph nodded. "I thought you might want to know that."     I set the cooler down near the water and the ladies spread their towels before doffing their t-shirts and shorts. I watched the extra, bikini-clad female flesh appear in an appreciative manner, then applauded politely. Sel did a small curtsey.     Toni bumped her arm and asked in an astonished tone, "Was that a curtsey, Sel? A fucking curtsey? When did you start doing that?"     "Oh, up yours, Tee. You can't do one, can you?"     "I wouldn't do one. Geez. A fucking curtsey. I haven't even seen anyone do that who wasn't in a gradeschool play."     Steph and I watched and listened to their byplay for a few moments, then Steph quietly morphed from her usual business suit into a bikini.     She was absolutely stunning. I couldn't take my eyes off her thighs until I was able to move them up and down her legs once, then upward toward her face. Steph was grinning at me when my eyes finally rose that high.     Sel and Toni snickered at me and Sel said, "Look at him. She makes his brain go all numb. Our turn. Suit up, Ed."     Removing my swimsuit from my folded towel, I said, "Sorry. I'm not getting busted for your pleasure, ma'am, but Steph did help me learn a new field trick. Enjoy the show."     I keyed my field implant and began coalescing a light-warping cylinder around myself. When it was up to my ribs, I kicked off my sneakers, dropped my pants and stepped out of them, then stepped into my swimsuit.     Sel and Toni stepped forward to peer at and into the cylinder, tapping on it and gripping the top edge as I pulled my swimsuit up.     "Well, damn," said Toni. "I guess you did learn a new trick. Is this thing tough enough to use as a shield?"     "It might deflect a bullet, but I wouldn't trust it to stop one. I'm working on it, though. It's sitting on the ground, so it isn't like lifting things. I can feed all the power I can manage into something like this without ripping out the implant."     Sel was pushing down on the top edge of the cylinder when I stopped feeding power to the field. She pitched forward and I caught her in an embrace.     I kissed her and said, "Gotcha. Wow. Nice. You feel good, lady. Smell good, too. Mind if I have a taste later?"     Selena looked down and said, "Oooo, look what I did to you. I'll consider it, sir. You'll wash the salt off me first?"     "Promise. The soap, too. I try to be thorough, you know."     Toni stepped up and said, "My turn. Everybody, though. Group grope." Chapter Twelve     We opened our embrace to include Toni and I kissed her as I had Selena. Steph watched with a smile until Selena motioned her to join us. Her smile turned to a questioning look.     "Yeah, you, lady," said Sel. "Come on in here with us."     Steph stepped forward almost hesitantly, as if wondering how to go about merging into the group. Selena and Toni opened their embrace to include her and drew her inward. Steph looked slightly confused as she gazed at me.     "Doesn't Steph get a kiss, too?" asked Toni.     "Yeah," mimicked Sel. "Doesn't Steph get a kiss, too?"     "If she wants one," I said, looking at Steph. "But she might be more comfortable working her way through hugs first."     Selena said, "If you were nicer to her, she'd already know how to handle hugs. Kisses, too."     "Uh, huh. If we were that close, you'd both think that I'd been taking advantage of the fact that I technically own her."     "Damned right," said a grinning Toni. "You just can't win, Ed. But how come this subject hasn't come up before? Look at her. She's gorgeous. What about it, Steph? You want some kisses, too?"     I said, "Slow down, ladies. No pressure, okay?" I gazed into Steph's eyes for a moment, then said, "I'm leaving it entirely up to you, ma'am."     "I think it would change the nature of our friendship, Ed."     Toni bumped her hip and grinningly said, "That's the whole idea, sweetie."     Steph looked at her for a moment and said, "But I'm not sure it's necessarily a good idea, Toni. Sensuality and sexuality are human issues. The feel and texture of skin was relatively easy to achieve, but without certain additional physical stimuli that I've never included..."     Selena interrupted her with, "So sample each of us and create an average of whatever you think you're missing, then use it. Take a chance, Steph."     Steph looked at each of us in turn and finally said, "Not now, please. I'd like to give the matter more consideration."     Toni asked, "Does that mean you'll give it a try later?"     "I may make an attempt later. Now I'll bring Tiger down. Correction. Elkor says that will be unnecessary."     A "Yahhh!" came from above us and we all looked upward, but there was nothing to be seen until Elkor's transport disk cleared the flitter field and Tiger appeared about ten feet above the ground.     Elkor released him from his field near the ground and Tiger jumped off the disk into the sand. He immediately tried to walk on it instead of in it without much success, shaking it off his paws with each step.     I planted and opened the beach umbrella as I watched Tiger. After some moments of dubious examinations of the sand and many catty comments -- texture, smell, taste, etc... -- Tiger flopped down by the cooler and examined a small shell closely before turning his gaze toward the breaking waves.     "That's it?" asked Toni. "His first-ever trip to an ocean beach and he plunks his little butt in the shade?"     Selena asked, "Well, what do you think he ought to be doing? Swimming? He's just about bait-sized for a lot of the fish out there."     "Still..." said Toni, "Well, I expected maybe some running around. Kicking up sand or something like that. A little bit of excitement, for God's sake."     As if to support her opinion, Tiger suddenly stiffened and sniffed the air avidly for some moments, then stood up and started walking directly toward the water.     Steph and Elkor immediately followed him, fanning out slightly to his right and left. I wondered what was worth their trip, but I didn't wonder enough to go with them.     Myra walked up behind us and said, "Well, I found you, so I must be a real secret agent, right? I see you brought Tiger down. How's he taking the beach?"     She'd bought a big blue beach towel, a small blue bikini, and a bottle of sunscreen. As she bent and stretched to lay her stuff out on the sand under the umbrella, I had to admit that -- except for being as pale as library paste -- Myra looked real damned good. Almost lean and very fit. Long, well-filled legs and firm breasts and no unnecessary jiggles.     When I looked to see how the others were taking Myra's appearance, both Toni and Sel fixed me with stolid glares, as if to tell me that I better not even think about it. I returned their glares with as much innocence as I could muster.     When Toni and Sel seemed to ignore Myra's question, I said, "At first Tiger wasn't 'taking it' at all. He just flopped down in the sand and nosed at a shell for a few minutes, but now he's up and moving again. We don't know why yet."     Myra deliberately twisted herself slightly and raised her arms to tweak a neck strap that didn't really need adjustment, an action which made her arms frame her face and hair as she jiggled her boobs slightly to "settle" them in the fit of the bikini bra. Nice little show. Facing me, of course. Smiling, too.     She then slightly lifted an eyebrow at me before shaking her head and sitting down on the cooler with a sigh. Her eyes were on Steph, Elkor, and Tiger.     "What?" asked Selena, following her gaze.     "I'm just having a hard time understanding why one computer would want to turn itself into a stunning brunette and the other chooses to look and act like a housecat. It just doesn't make any sense to me."     "Why not ask them why they do what they do?"     Myra looked up at Sel and asked, "They're computers, aren't they? As I see it, they ought to be doing what they're told and that ought to be something worthwhile."     Toni said, "We don't much give a damn how you see things, lady. You're just along for the ride, and it may still wind up being a short one."     "They are doing as they've been told," I said. "Some years back I told them to follow their own interests. How about hoisting your butt off that cooler long enough to hand me a tea, ma'am?"     As she knelt by the cooler, Myra asked, "Why not a beer?"     "It's a dry beach," said Selena. "No drinking outside the restaurants and bars up by the streets. Big fines. Haven't you ever been to the local beaches before?"     "Just one, and nobody gave us any trouble about drinking on it," said Myra, handing out the cans of tea.     With a grin, Toni said, "That bikini may get you in trouble, too. They don't allow butt-floss T-backs on this beach, either."     Myra gave her a saccharine smile and said, "I checked. It's legal, if only barely. Thanks so much for the warning, though."     And so it went. The ladies took verbal shots at each other as we swam and lounged. Tiger prowled the shoreline with Elkor and Steph, occasionally pouncing after some unlucky thing that moved or appeared likely to move. Now and then Elkor, Steph, and Tiger would seem to discuss something, then continue their explorations.     At one point I left the water to join Myra under the beach umbrella and get a Dr Pepper from the cooler. I heard her hand softly move things in her purse and I could feel her eyes on me as I reached into the cooler. To confirm the feeling I turned quickly to offer her a can of tea.     Her fingers quickly slipped out of and away from the purse beside her leg and began to flick sand off her thigh. Her eyes rose from my swimsuit to my face in a calculating fashion. She smiled as she reached for the tea.     As she took the tea, I kept my grip on it for a moment longer than necessary and said, "If Sel and Toni suddenly find themselves in any kind of trouble at school or anywhere else -- for any reason -- I'll immediately assume that you and your agency are behind it."     Myra blinked at me, then met my gaze without comment.     "If that happens," I added, "You can forget about any possibility of cooperation."     "People can find trouble on their own, you know."     "Yeah, but if I can't determine that's the case for certain, I'll assume that you people are behind it."     "You don't think you're being a little melodramatic, Ed?"     I sighed as I sat on my towel and sipped my drink, then said, "A series of small, expensive problems like car repairs that would interfere with their classes and getting to work and our visits. Calls to their school and jobs that would incite suspicion of drug use or immoral activities. Publicizing things best left private. Drugs or open booze bottles planted in cars, then tips to cops. In short, all the usual crap used to smear people and put pressure on them. Been there, seen that."     As she gazed at me with a raised, skeptical eyebrow, I said, "Save the fake skepticism, lady. Anything like that, from any direction or source. Your people want something from me and they already know that I'm not particularly inclined to blindly go along with them. Let them know that they have to make a sound, reasonable case for what they want and that Linda will have to agree. They sent you and you're not a problem at the moment, but if they resort to any further devious tactics I'll lock up and that'll be the end of it."     After a moment, Myra smiled and said, "Sure. I'll tell them what you've said, Ed, as wild and paranoid as it may seem."     I pointed at her purse and grinned back at her as I said, "Right. Just give them that tape and put your paranoia crap back in the bull, ma'am."     Some minutes later Myra headed back to the water as I finished my Dr Pepper and put the bottle in a trash bag.     Steph asked through my implant, "How did you know Myra was taping you, Ed?"     "I heard her reach into her purse. When I turned around, I startled her. Nothing from her purse was in her hand and she was a little slow in moving her hand to her leg."     "Myra could have been reaching into the purse for anything, Ed."     "Nope. Not like that, and she wouldn't have reacted that way. She's definitely on duty out here, Steph."     Perhaps an hour into our visit to the beach I walked away from the others to pretend to examine a shell as I keyed my implant and said, "Steph, this would be a good time to disable the bug that Myra planted."     "Done. May I ask why now is better than any other time?"     "We're not there, ma'am. They'll have to assume it may have just plain died for some reason."     "Won't they have Myra install another one?"     "Very probably, if they don't immediately replace this one while we're away from the house."     Elkor asked, "Shall I modify the house field to prevent intrusion?"     "Nope. If they show up, let 'em come in and plant bugs and look around. Might be nice to know if they have a valid warrant for this kind of stuff, though."     Steph said, "There are no warrants on file concerning you or your residence, Ed."     "So much the better, Steph. Elkor's recordings will prove they were there illegally if they visit. Linda can use that kind of legal ammo to shake their tree a bit."     By the beginning of our second hour at the beach Myra had realized that she was turning rather red and excused herself to visit the storefronts for some skin cream. When she came back, she handed the tube to me and asked me to do her back.     Sel and Toni weren't happy about that, but it had been a fairly reasonable request. After a few moments, Toni came over and took the tube from my hand.     "You're having too much fun, Ed. You're missing some spots, too. I'll do it."     Stretching out on my towel, I said, "Well, yes, ma'am, ma'am. Pardon the hell out of me, don'tcha know."     Myra chuckled softly as Toni blatted a handful of the cream on her back and quickly spread it around. Her dislike of Myra not withstanding, I noticed the way Toni's eyes roamed over Myra's body. An interesting development, that. When she was finished, Toni gave the tube to Myra and headed for the water.     Toward the end of our third hour a beach cop headed our direction from the restaurant area. I waved at him.     When he glanced our way I whispered, "Elkor, make both cats vanish, please. I think that's why the cop's coming."     The cop looked back toward the shoreline, peered up and down the beach, then pulled out his opera glasses and looked again. After a moment he continued to approach us. Steph began walking back toward us as well.     "Do those cats belong to you?" asked the cop.     "Cats?" I asked. "Where?"     The cop sighed and said, "Don't be difficult, sir."     As Stephanie neared us, the cop turned to her and firmly asked, "Ma'am, are those cats yours?"     "I don't own a cat," said Steph.     "Does anyone here see any cats?" I asked the ladies.     A chorus of negative responses answered my question.     The cop looked hard at me and said, "Sir, you were reported as being the people with the cats, and I saw cats down by the water as I was coming over here. I'll have to write you a ticket for them and tell you to get them off the beach."     Selena asked, "But did you actually see any cats with us, or did you only see them down by the water? A couple of cats on the beach could belong to anybody." She glanced around and said, "And I still don't see any cats."     "They were reported as being your cats, ma'am. There's a fifty dollar fine for bringing an animal on the beach. You people brought two of them. Now, who gets the ticket?"     Toni said, "You don't have proof that any cats you may have seen were ours."     Tiger suddenly sounded off with a "Yahhh!" that emanated from a spot about twenty feet away and ten feet above the ground. The startled cop's eyes searched the immediate area, but saw nothing. Tiger spoke again as the cop walked a few paces toward the sound.     I softly said, "Elkor, it's probably way too late, but would you tell that little hairball to shut up?"     Through my implant, Elkor said, "I anticipated your wish and asked him to be silent, Ed. His response was to ask if he should attack the policeman for you, so I'll add audio dampening to my field."     "Thanks, Elkor."     The cop whipped around and sharply asked me, "Did you just say something, sir? Would you care to repeat it?"     "I wasn't speaking to you, officer, and whatever I may say to anyone else is our business."     "Anything said in my presence while I'm on duty is my business, sir."     Toni said, "Then take your presence elsewhere. This is starting to feel like harassment."     The cop told us to stay where we were and stepped a few feet away to mutter into his radio. Whatever someone told him caused him to smile slightly. Not a good sign.     I looked at Steph and said, "Time to go. We'll need to disappear fairly quickly." To the others, I said, "Grab stuff and saddle up, we're leaving," while I gathered up my clothes in my beach towel and folded the umbrella.     My field implant immediately began to tingle in sympathy with the nearness of the much more powerful field surrounding the flitter. I couldn't see it, but I knew that the flitter was only a few yards away from us toward the water.     The cop started to step forward, so I used my field implant to send a tendril at his ticket book, knocking it out of his hand and behind him. He turned and bent to retrieve it, and that's when I nodded to Steph. She nodded in return and we all disappeared as the field effect quickly extended from the flitter and swallowed us.     We could see the cop and a few gasping bystanders gawking at our disappearance as we boarded the flitter. As soon as all personnel and equipment were aboard, Steph took us up to around a thousand feet and we entertained ourselves for some moments by watching the people below as they milled around the area where we'd been.     "Oh, wow!" said Myra, peering and pointing along the shoreline. "Look at the view!"     Toni drolly said, "The Atlantic side has bigger waves."     I saw Toni's eyes travel the length of Myra's body. So did Selena. She glanced at me with an expression that asked, "What the hell..?" but said nothing.     Selena shook her head as she agreed, "Yeah. Right. Bigger waves," then she asked, "Ed, isn't it about time to drop Myra off somewhere and get back to the house?"     "Yeah," said Toni, dragging her eyes away from Myra's boobs. "Let's do that. I'm getting hungry."     Almost laughing at her use of the word 'hungry', I nodded.     Tiger knew the word 'hungry', too. He turned and added his voice to the others. Myra looked at him oddly, then faced me.     "Okay, okay. You all want to get rid of me and I need to take care of my sunburn. I'd appreciate being dropped off at my office building."     I nodded to Steph and we set course toward Tampa. Myra's words had seemed to be in accord with our thoughts, but her next actions weren't.     She flipped her beach towel open, shook out the clothes she'd been wearing when we'd met and draped them over her suitcases, wrapped her big towel around herself, then slipped out of her bikini top and let it fall to the deck. Chapter Thirteen     Myra dropped her bikini bottom, as well, then bent to pick up her panties and shake them out again. Her towel came loose and she naturally dropped the panties smack in front of my feet as she grabbed at the edges of the towel, then she asked me to hand her panties to her after she'd adjusted her towel.     Toni angrily began to get to her feet, but Sel's hand on her arm stopped her. Sel shook her head slightly and whispered something to Toni. Toni stared at Selena for a moment, then looked at me for another moment, then sat down with a sullen glare. Sel leaned to whisper with Steph and Toni for a moment, then looked at me as Toni had.     Myra performed a fairly cunning striptease, showing even less than when she'd worn the bikini and using tiny, sudden snatches at her towel to keep it generally together as she dressed within it.     I was supposed to watch Myra's show, so I watched. Very nice. Her hair color seemed real, too. It matched, anyway.     Myra smiled broadly at me as she stepped into her panties and shimmied them up and into place, then she asked me to hand up her bra.     As she turned a bit to reach through the straps, one of her breasts peeked out at me. Toni and Sel couldn't see it at that angle. They weren't intended to see it. Only me.     Myra followed my gaze downward as if only then noticing her exposure, then met my eyes in a deliberate manner, never losing her grin, as she shifted her bra into place and fastened it.     She loosened her towel and repositioned it around her hips, leaving her bra-clad breasts exposed as she put on her blouse and buttoned it, then asked me for her skirt.     Pulling her skirt up, Myra hooked and zipped it as we began our descent toward her building. As she tucked in her blouse and rather wincingly put on her suit jacket, Steph slipped us into one of the upper parking decks and settled us in a corner.     Through my implant, Steph said, "Her car is the red BMW to our left."     I nodded my thanks to Steph, got up, and took Myra's two bags over to the BMW. Myra stood staring in surprise as I set the two bags on the concrete by the car, then walked back to the flitter.     "How did you know which car..?" Myra began, then she glanced back at Steph and rolled her eyes in realization. Then it occurred to her that Steph hadn't said anything aloud and Myra again began to ask, "But how did you know..?"     I grinned at her. "Steph and I are much closer than you can imagine, Myra. Sometimes I even know what she's thinking. And vice versa, of course."     'Let her chew on that concept,' I thought. 'She'll come to believe we may really be telepathic, after all.'     Myra's mental chewing must have begun fairly quickly, because when I reached for her elbow to steady her step down from the deck, she glanced at Steph and shied away from my hand slightly before allowing me to touch her.     Selena and Toni had noticed Myra's abrupt aversion. They grinned at me as I handed Myra down and quickly stepped back onto the flitter's deck, offering no time or opportunity for overly-expressive goodbyes.     Myra said, "Well, thank you for a truly entertaining afternoon, everybody. I may need to talk to you about a few things later, Ed. When's a good time to call?"     "Noon to ten," I said. "Leave a message and a number."     "What if I'm in the area? Should I just drop by?"     I grinned and said, "Only if you call first between noon and ten. Bye, Myra. I have to feed these women soon or they'll turn on me."     A nod to Steph got us moving and out of the garage the way we'd come in. As I returned to my seat, I could actually feel the eyes of Selena and Toni on me.     "Steph," I said, "I'd appreciate it if you'd record any time that I spend alone with Myra and make those recordings available to Sel and Toni upon request."     With a grin at the ladies, Steph said, "Okay, Ed."     "Thanks, ma'am." Turning to Sel and Toni, I asked, "Does that about cover your concerns, ladies? None of us are in doubt about her intentions, and while I enjoyed her little show, I'm not about to forget my early training."     "Early training?" asked Toni.     I nodded. "Yup. The stuff about how the bad guys will send only attractive women to seduce us poor, susceptible males."     Toni gave me a frumpy look and asked, "You think she's attractive? Really?"     "She's very attractive," I said. "That's why they sent her. I saw how you eyeballed her today, Toni. No silly games, okay? They want something, but they won't come right out and ask for it. Myra's the devil we know, and if we dump her, they'll send devils we don't know and maybe set us up for all kinds of other crap. Of course, they may do that anyway, even though I told Myra to warn them about that earlier today."     Sel asked, "Other crap? Such as..?"     "Blackmail's a good possibility. What wouldn't you want the world to know, and would it be worth cooperating to keep that info private? How would you take learning that someone's officially investigating some nasty rumors about you; rumors that couldn't and wouldn't be proven, but that would be too nasty to ignore and hard as hell to stop? The kinds of rumors that can ruin lives and end jobs and get you kicked out of school. Better to keep Myra on a leash and feed her now and then until we can get past whatever's going on."     Toni said, "That sounds like something out of one of those 'government's gonna getcha' movies, Ed. Do you really think they do things like that?"     "I know damned well they do, Toni. Ever wonder why there have been so many government scandals in the last few decades? One reason is detection. Before the sixties, it was almost impossible to find out about the nasty shit that the government did. Look how long it was before the news got out about standing soldiers in trenches close to atomic tests in the fifties. When did the public first hear about the government testing diseases in New York subways in the sixties? Or about radiation dosage testing on Washington State welfare cases under the guise of medical programs in the late sixties and early seventies? Every election brings in a new crop of devious bastards, ladies, and every damned one of them seems to think that he or she won't get caught."     Toni said, "You used to be with Myra's kind of agency, Ed. Are you saying you used to be part of all that?"     "Nope. Our group pulled people out of East Germany and other Iron Curtain countries, and that's all we did. When my group was disbanded, I didn't go into another agency because the choices sucked. Half-assed CIA or DEA jobs were all they offered any of us, mostly due to our ages and our attitudes. They wanted college kids who'd blindly follow orders and do anything to climb the ladder. A lot of us older hands took backroom jobs to fill our minimum retirement requirements, then we got the hell out."     The conversation lulled until we got back to Spring Hill, but as we descended to the driveway, Sel asked, "What are you going to do about the bug in the hall?"     "Steph killed it while we were playing at the beach."     "Won't they just plant another one?"     Toni added, "Yeah. And won't it bother you to know that someone's always listening to everything you say?"     "Not as much as listening will bother them. Steph, can you alter the bugs to pick up, say, 93.3 FM?"     "No, Ed. The bug is designed to use much higher frequencies."     "Oh, well, just a thought. That used to be a good station, but now it plays too much rap crap. One of my neighbors calls it "nasty nigger noise", but he can get away with that 'cause he's black. I'll just find the bug with the vacuum cleaner when I'm clearing some cobwebs, then make a production of looking for more of them."     Selena grinned and Toni slapped my arm as she laughed.     Toni laughed again and said, "Well, all right! That'll wake up whoever's listening, won't it?" and leaned in front of Steph to take Sel's hand in one of those 'solidarity' grips.     "Who's first in the shower?" Sel asked. "Or should we just try to cram us all in at once?"     "Cram," said Toni. "Think we can get four people in there?"     "Three people," Steph said rather firmly, although with an apologetic smile. "I'm not ready to delve into the intricacies of human intimacies."     The ladies gave her disappointed looks, but I backed Steph with, "Three it is, then. I'll get the hot water started as soon as we're inside."     As we landed we gathered up stuff to carry into the house. Sel and Toni again asked Steph if she was sure that she didn't want to join us and she again politely refused to participate.     Keeping in mind that we had a limited supply of hot water, I started with Selena's hair and progressed to Toni's as the ladies washed me and each other. We had a good time soaping sand and sunscreen off each other and playing until the water began to run cool, then we adjourned to the bedroom.     An hour or so later, all of us had peaked at least once and we lay relaxing on the bed, trailing fingers over each other and talking softly as the shadows lengthened across the room.     Toni sighed and said, "I wish Stephie were in here with us."     "You just want her body," said Selena. "I think I'm getting jealous."     Shaking her head slightly, Toni looked at Sel and me as she said, "No, it isn't just that. She does so much for us and there's so little we can do for her."     Focusing on me, she asked, "Ed, don't you wish you could... I don't know... return favors, I guess? Do something for her? Give her a case of the warm and fuzzies now and then like you do for us?"     I ceased nibbling her breast to shrug and grin.     "I'd love to, Toni, but... Well, other than making sure she knows how I feel about her and helping her whenever and however I can, I don't know what more I could do for her."     With a sigh of my own, I added, "I never feel as if I can really do enough for her, Toni, but coming to bed with us is strictly her decision. Something about it doesn't click with her, and that's the best reason I can think of not to push the matter, you know?"     Sel grunted softly and said, "It just doesn't make any sense. She makes herself look like a goddamned goddess. Why not make herself look like a plain Jane, if she doesn't want people to take an interest and make offers?"     "Um," I said, placing a finger gently across Sel's lips, "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't put the idea in her head that she should change her appearance. I may not be sleeping with her, but I really, really like Steph just the way she is. If she changes, let it be her idea only, please."     "Selfish, selfish man," said a grinning Toni.     I nodded and kissed her. "Damned right. Absolutely. How about I spring for a pizza?"     "Good," said Selena. "Great. Mentioning food made me realize that I'm starving."     "Same here," said Toni.     "I'll order two, then."     Leaving the ladies to recuperate and continue playing, I washed up a bit and headed to the kitchen with a towel around me. As often as I've called Village Pizza, I still have to read the number off the fridge magnet. Their number is within one digit of being the same as a local computer store's number and the number of my WiccaWorks.com distributor.     I saw no sign of Steph as I crossed the living room, but I suddenly felt her presence behind me as I dialed.     "Hi, Steph."     "How did you know I'd appeared, Ed? Your readings spiked slightly almost as soon as I'd solidified my image."     Turning to look at her, I said, "You keep asking me that, milady, and the answer's the same. Can't say. Just did."     The pizza guy answered the phone and I ordered two large with everything except anchovies. Steph had looked rather peeringly at me as I'd spoken with him and continued to do so as I hung up the phone.     "You really don't know how you do that?" she asked.     I shook my head. "Nope."     After a moment, she said, "I heard what was said in the bedroom, Ed. Do you wish me to try to participate in your sexual activities?"     Looking her up and down once, I said, "I'd be lying like a dog if I said 'no', Steph, but the issue isn't what I want or Sel and Toni want. If you aren't interested, that's all that matters. I've never really ordered you to do anything that didn't involve flitters or security, but I'll do so now. You will decide -- based strictly on your own interest -- whether to participate in sensual matters with us. Or with anyone else."     "You once said that you thought of me as a daughter. That was one of the reasons I hesitated to become involved."     I shrugged. "That was back when you were still new to the world, Steph. You were still growing into your skin as relates to dealing with people. I felt protective and still feel protective of you, but you grew up a helluva lot faster than humans do. Today you took command while I was away and others followed your lead, even one who doubts you. That sort of thing doesn't happen until someone has crossed a threshold of sorts. Do you doubt that you're as qualified as a human to determine your own path in life?"     While a human woman might have hesitated before answering such a question, Stephanie simply nodded slightly and said, "Yes. I doubt that."     I waited for her to expound on that a bit, but she didn't.     "Steph, do you doubt your capability to make decisions?"     She shook her head. "No. My other self makes thousands of decisions every day concerning station operations and personnel. We share all data, so we're equals in that regard."     "I kinda thought so. Fact is, ma'am, once she started running the station and you two had linked a few times to swap data, I started noticing small changes in you; changes that I think you didn't really want me to notice. I've often wondered why you've stayed with me since then. I think you could likely handle the gold sales and citizenship stuff on your own, and you're probably bored spitless most of the time."     Steph smiled and shook her head slightly.     "I manage to avoid boredom and I stay with you because I like you, Ed. You do interesting things now and then."     With a slight bow, I said, "Why, thank you, milady. I do try. You know, I think we may have crossed yet another threshold just now."     "Possibly so, Ed. If I asked for my complete freedom and autonomy this very minute, how would you react?"     I smiled at her. "You know how I'd react. Want it in writing right now, or can that wait until I'm dressed and fed?"     She chuckled. "Maybe I'll ask another time, Ed. I'm not ready yet. I'll let you get back to Sel and Toni now."     Steph then vanished from her toes upward until only her smiling face remained suspended in the air, then it, too, vanished. Huh. A Cheshire computer. Shades of Alice. It felt damned good to make Stephie smile.     Grabbing three beers from the fridge, I headed back to the bedroom for pizza money. After pizza and a bit more playing we showered again, then Sel and Toni left for Inverness sometime around ten to try to get some sleep and be ready for their Saturday volleyball game. Chapter Fourteen     Saturday morning the ringing phone woke me. It stopped ringing, then rang again a few moments later. Someone had discovered that the answering machine picked up on the fourth ring and was letting it ring three times, then hanging up and calling again. I looked at the clock. Eight-thirty. Damn.     "Hello," I mumbled, petting Tiger as I reached for my last-night's coffee on the night table and sent a heat field into it.     "Uh, hello. This is Rich Engles. I, uh... I'm sorry if I woke you up."     The first sip of overnight coffee can make you cringe, but it also clears the mental cobwebs quickly. Once that was out of the way, I sat up and swung my feet out of the bed.     "Sorry, hell," I said, "You've been ducking my answering machine. Why?"     "Uh... Well, your newsgroup message said you might be interested in a used hang glider...?" He cleared his throat and said, "I have one, and..."     That brightened me up a bit. "In that case, you may be forgiven. Whatcha got and where can I see it?"     "It's a two-year-old Wills Wing and I'm in Merritt Island. Your area code indicates that you're in Spring Hill. That's on the other side of Florida, right?"     Huh? Not bloody likely that he got that from my area code alone, but we'll play it out and see where it leads.     "Yup," I said. "Is your kite in flyable condition?"     "Uh, yes, of course it is."     "How much?"     "Uh, well, I was thinking about $2200. Bag included."     "Unless it's in mint condition... Why are you selling it?"     Engles told me that he'd bought a new kite and proceeded to tell me all about it in glowing terms that sounded as if they came straight from a sales brochure. I sipped coffee and let him rattle on about specs and details until he remembered that he'd called about his old kite.     He said that he drove past my area on SR-50 about twice a month, and that if I could wait until next weekend, he'd be happy to strap the kite on his car and bring it by for a look.     "How about if I visit Merritt Island today, instead?" I asked. "I expect to be over there sometime this afternoon and I could swing by."     That seemed to cause him to pause for a moment, but he said, "Uh, sure. No problem. Can you make it after three?"     "Yeah, that's fine, actually. I need a few more hours of sleep. Tell me how to get there from 528 and I-95, Rich."     After taking down the details, I hung up the phone and rolled over, but sleep actively evaded me. The idea that I might soon be able to hang glide again had me a bit keyed up, but there was something else on my mind, as well. I was about to use my implant to generate some mild theta waves when Stephanie materialized at my bedroom door.     She'd changed her wardrobe again, this time to a knee-length a-line skirt with slip-on tennis shoes and a loose fitting blouse. Everything was some shade of green, of course, ranging from a soft, dark emerald green of her skirt to the lighter pastel variation of her blouse.     I said, "That's probably a nice outfit for golfing. Don't you ever consider using other colors?"     "I happen to like green."     "I like green, too, but you never wear anything else, ma'am. Some people would call that an obsession."     She grinned and said, "I'd call it a preference, like you have for your Army fatigue shirts. Your metabolic readings are about ten percent above normal, Ed."     I sat up and reached for my coffee mug, saying, "No doubt. I just had an interesting phone call, Steph. A guy who has a used hang glider for sale."     She gave me a quizzical look, then asked, "Why not buy a new glider? You easily have enough money for such things."     "I don't want to be out big bucks, that's all. I used to hang glide every free minute, Steph, over in Germany and in Georgia. Sometimes with a group; most times alone. Great fun, but I rolled up my kite in '93 when I went back to Europe for a working visit and never got around to going back to Stone Mountain for it. Must have been a reason."     I added, "The other day I saw a hang glider for sale on the net. It was an old ad; the glider had been sold. I put a 'wanted' ad on a newsgroup that evening, just to see what would happen. This Engles guy looked me up and called me."     "Why did you stop flying gliders before?"     Shrugging, I said, "I wound up here. The kite was in storage in Georgia. It seemed like too much trouble to go get it, especially since this area doesn't have any high spots to launch from. A year or so after I stashed my kite, the storage guy offered to buy it, I said yes, and he sent me a check. Then you came along and, well, ma'am, you were so distracting and all that I just plain forgot all about gliders... But it occurs to me that if I took a running start off your deck..."     "We'll see," she said, holding up a hand. "First we should make sure that his glider is functional and safe."     I grinned at her and said, "No, ma'am. First we'll find out something else entirely. He wanted me to believe that my area code tipped him that I'm in Spring Hill."     Steph raised an eyebrow in a gesture that she'd apparently picked up from Linda and came to sit on the bed next to me before saying, "The number of Florida cities covered by 352 makes that seem unlikely."     "It does, indeed. If we were in a big city, the number of phones in a small area might make that kind of guesswork seem more realistic. Figure this guy's working from notes of some sort, then try to figure out why and where he got the notes. I'll bet the source is spelled 'NSA'."     Stephanie assumed a thoughtful demeanor for a moment, then said, "It could be that you're being unnecessarily cautious, Ed. The newsgroup message header contains your Yahoo WiccaWorks email address. He couldn't have traced that message to your local ISP, but he could have deduced that you'd have a website under that name. Maybe he got your phone number from the WiccaWorks.com order form."     "If so, why lie about it? I'm more concerned with 'why' than 'how', Steph. He could have answered me in the newsgroup or by email. Instead, he called."     She shrugged and said, "Maybe he's impatient to sell his glider."     "Maybe, but check the groups. Used gliders go quickly. He didn't have to call me or anyone else to get rid of a used glider. Again; why would he care where the buyer lives? Why root up the phone number? I'll take a nap and then we'll run over there and check out the kite, if there really is one."     "Why would he call you to offer to sell you a glider if he didn't have one, Ed?"     I grinned. "Maybe he does have one, but when I get there he could just as easily tell me that someone else didn't haggle about the price or offered more money. Contact has been established, either way. Common ground: hang gliding. He's nearer the places they're commonly flown, so he'd offer to keep an eye out for another one."     Steph stood up and moved to the doorway.     "It could also be that you're assuming too much, Ed. I'll let you get to sleep and see what I can find out about Mr. Engles in the meantime."     "Sounds good. Thanks, Steph. See you in a while."     I returned to bed and found that theta waves wouldn't be necessary after all. Another hour of sleep later I breakfasted on a can of chicken noodle soup and then prepped for the trip to Merritt Island.     Steph popped into the hallway as I came out of the bathroom and headed for the kitchen. She was still wearing her golfing outfit.     "Engles, Richard Andrew," she said, "Is his real name. He works for a company that contracts with NASA concerning the space station project."     I studied her for a moment, then said, "No surprise. Half of Merritt Island works at the cape. What's the rest of the story, milady?"     "What makes you think there's anything else to tell, Ed? As you said, lots of people in that area work at Cape Canaveral."     "You've got yellow feathers stuck in your teeth, Miss Kitty."     She adjusted her demeanor to reflect blasé disinterest and asked, "How's this?"     "Way too much and too late, but in an expensive evening gown, you'd look like a very bored socialite."     Steph 'sighed' and said, "I'll work on my expressions some more. Engles bought a used hang glider yesterday, Ed. I was unable to find any record of his owning or using one before then. He joined the contracting company last week."     As I assembled a mug of coffee, I said with a grin, "Again, no surprise. They've been monitoring my net usage and my messages to learn my interests. My want ad was a perfect opportunity to make contact."     "You're so logical," said Steph, returning my grin. "For a human, that is."     I studied her outfit again as I said, "It comes from hanging around with computers all the time. You still want to look as if you're going to hit the greens, huh?"     "You think my choice of clothing is inappropriate?"     "No, no. Never. I wouldn't dare. But you look so sharp in your business suits. They lend something to your presence that this outfit doesn't. A kind of salutability, y'know. Hey, let's swing by and pick up Sel and Toni. They can watch and panic if I flight-test the glider."     In her best Barbara Eden/Jeannie imitation, Steph said, "Oh, my master is so thoughtful of his friends!" then she said, "This is a game weekend, Ed. They'll be at practice this afternoon."     As I picked up the phone, I said, "That's why we should call them right now, Steph. Since they actually have a schedule, let them figure out how soon we can go to Merritt Island."     Steph popped a flat-field into being that contained iconized pictures of women in various clothing and said, "This is my current wardrobe. You may add to it if you wish."     I shook my head and put my finger on each of six casual outfits after dialing the phone.     "Try these, Steph. For a casual average, match them up to what women -- who aren't playing golf or tennis -- are wearing in places like country clubs."     Selena said they'd be finished with volleyball practice around four-thirty and that she'd leave our names with the stadium guard so he'd let us in.     I called Bill Jamison and asked if he could take delivery of his new website on a weekend. He told me to bring it over, so I put the whole site on a CD in zip format to avoid having to un-'read-only' any files needing adjustments, told Tiger to hold the fort, then we headed across town to Bill's home office.     Steph opted to make contact with her other self on the asteroid manufacturing station and swap news with her, so she dropped me off in Bill's front yard and the flitter lifted skyward as I rang the doorbell.     When he answered the door, Bill looked in the empty driveway and asked, "How'd you get here?"     "A friend dropped me off. She'll be back for me later. Here's the CD."     After unzipping everything from the CD to his hard drive and tweaking some of the links and images, we both declared the job finished and he wrote me a check while I set up an FTP upload of the files to his website.     A final function check of the actual website returned no errors and Bill seemed happy enough as he moused through the pages.     Excusing myself to visit the bathroom, I keyed my implant and asked Steph to drop down to the converted bedroom's rear balcony and pick me up.     As I emerged from the bathroom, Bill looked away from his screen to ask, "Huh? Were you talking to me?"     "No, I just called my ride," I said, "I'm gonna hit the road, Bill. Let me know if you find anything that needs fixing. I can find my own way out."     "Okay. Later. Thanks, Ed."     Instead of going down the stairs, I headed toward the balcony and opened the sliding glass doors. I saw Bill looking at me oddly as I closed the doors and grasped the rail. He stopped mousing and got to his feet to approach the balcony.     Bill was somewhat unprepared to see me apparently standing on thin air just beyond the railing. Then he saw Stephanie, who smiled at him. We waved goodbye as Steph headed us toward Gainesville.     A few minutes later Steph set us down outside the university stadium and we went inside. The guard passed us through and we found seats in the second row near center-court just as a new match was being announced.     Sel and Toni waved to us, then had to pay attention to their game as the opposing team served the ball in a shallow arc across the net.     Sand flew as Toni stretched to get under it and Sel set up Toni's slamming return over the net. One of the women on the other team dove under the ball and kept it in the air, but the angle was wrong for her teammate, who struggled to save the play but put the ball into the sand beyond the boundary line.     The teams seemed about evenly matched and equally determined, but toward the end Sel was in just the right spot as Toni set her up with a high-flying, put-it-anywhere shot. Sel looked as if she'd spike the ball straight down, but then her shot drove it slightly sideways and it smashed into the sand on the other side of the net despite the screaming, diving attempt by an opposing player to save the play. Game over.     After a quick, grinning ruckus with the other players, Toni waved at us and headed for the building's arched doorway at a trot and disappeared inside.     Selena grabbed a fresh towel from a bench and approached Steph and me. She was clearly still in game mode, by her commanding stride and expression.     "Hi, Steph. Hi, Ed. A hang glider, huh?"     "Yup."     "You're nuts. Meet us outside the locker room in fifteen."     I grinned and saluted as I said, "Oh, by your command, miLady! Yes, ma'am, team co-captain, ma'am! Air-borne, ma'am!"     Selena stopped, turned to gaze at me sharply for a moment, then stalked toward me until she was perhaps a foot away. Without a word, she grabbed my face, pulled me forward, and kissed me hard.     "Just be there," she said firmly, then she marched away toward the locker rooms.     I looked at Steph. "Expressive, isn't she?"     "Oh, very," said Steph. "Yes, indeed." Chapter Fifteen     Selena stood waiting outside the locker room door as we approached. She'd changed into a baggy sweatshirt and jeans and had both of her gym bags slung over her right shoulder.     I asked, "Where's Toni?"     "She's talking to some guy. They seemed to know each other well enough to argue, so I'm thinking he's her ex. They went into that hallway over there."     She pointed at the hallway through which we'd arrived.     "We didn't see her when we came in," I said.     Leading us that way, Sel said, "Maybe they found an open office. Let's find them."     We hadn't gone far before we heard Toni's voice coming from one of the coaches' offices along the hallway. She was yelling.     "...Let go and just leave me the hell alone, dammit!"     A man's voice said, "I came all the way up here and you're going to listen to me!"     "I've heard it all before, Jack! Just get the fuck lost, okay? You tried to sell my car, you son of a bitch! You owe me two thousand bucks and you screwed Darlene in my bed the night they threw your sorry ass off the team! Fuck you, Jack! Get your hands off me, you goddamned steroid freak! Jack! I mean it! Let go of me!"     Selena lunged for the door, but I got in front of her and managed to open the door and enter the office first. Jack's left hand had a grip on the front of Toni's blouse and his other hand was a fist, cocked to strike.     I clapped my hands together ringingly, which brought his intentions to a halt as his head snapped around to face us. He was -- or had been -- some kind of jock, from the look of him.     "And just who the fuck are you?" he asked.     Selena asked, "Toni, are you all right?" as I moved to stand about ten feet from Jack.     Jack glanced at Selena, then at Toni, then let go of Toni's shirt to grab her wrist. He yanked her to him, then used his other hand to cup her jaw and turn her head toward Selena.     "Is that the other queer bitch?" he screamed at Toni. "She is, isn't she? I've heard about your thing together. Who's the old guy? Somebody's daddy?"     Turning to face me, he asked, "Hey, what about it, Daddy? Which one of these dykes is yours?"     "Why don't we say they're both mine? Let her go."     "Ooohooohoo! I'm scared, Daddy! Whatcha gonna do? Kick my ass?"     "It could happen. Let her go, Jack."     Jack was easily two-fifty or so and probably six-three. He looked as if he'd once played football or lifted weights or both, but what I saw filling his muscle-shirt looked as if it had been allowed to go to seed for some time.     He shoved Toni away hard enough to lift her off the floor momentarily and propel her hard at the back wall. Stepping clear of a row of chairs, he stood straight and seemed to puff himself up until veins stood out on his head and neck.     "You really think you want to mess with me, Daddy? Well, then, come on, Daddy! Let's see what you got!"     Selena grabbed my left arm and said, "Don't, Ed. Let's just get the hell out of here and..."     "He isn't going to let us just walk out of here with Toni, Sel. Back off now."     "But..."     I shook her hands off my arm and told Steph to put a field on her, if necessary. Steph nodded. Toni had hit the back wall of the room and was holding her left elbow as she shook her head at me, obviously thinking that confronting Jack was a very bad idea.     Truthfully, I agreed with her, but it didn't seem likely that he'd simply calm down and talk about things. I moved forward until I was perhaps two yards from Jack and stood still, my hands at my sides.     "Well, Daddy? Is that all you're gonna do? Stand there and stare at me? Come on, Daddy!"     "No hurry. I'm where I can stop you if you try for her again. Toni, go to Sel, then all of you get out of here. We won't need an audience."     Selena said, "I'm not leaving you here with that asshole."     Stephanie said, "I'd also prefer not to leave, Ed. I can't allow this. One of you could get hurt."     "Steph, I'm ordering you to stay out of this."     "You know I can't do that, Ed."     "I know you'd better. Think about it, Steph. You aren't my nanny and you'd better not start acting like one."     Jack laughed, promised Steph that I'd be the only one hurt, and asked me if I was afraid to let them see me get the shit beat out of me.     He then ordered Toni to stay right where she was. I told her again to join the others. After a moment, she began edging her way around the room toward them.     Jack seemed to want to go stop her, but he very obviously didn't want to turn his back on me, so he settled instead for pointing directly at her and again ordering her to stay put.     Toni paused, then kept moving. Jack lost the remnants of his cool and screamed the order at her. That's when I moved. I simply made a fist of my left hand and raised it.     Jack's reaction was to whip back around to face me and lunge to punch at me. Sel screamed and I glimpsed her starting toward us, but Steph got an arm around her.     He reached way too far in his effort to hit me. All I had to do was duck a little and put some weight behind my foot as it landed on the front of his slightly-bent knee.     The knee straightened fast and hard and popped, but it wasn't the sickening 'crack' that accompanies real damage. As I straightened up, Jack bellowed in pain and almost went down, but he caught himself on a nearby chair and managed to realize that his knee hadn't quite been broken, after all.     The ladies were still by the door, actively resisting Steph's efforts to take them out of the room. When Sel again tried to head my direction, Steph's hand locked around Sel's wrist and pulled her back into their group. Sel swore and yanked, but couldn't break Steph's hold.     I said, "Get 'em out of here, Steph."     "I'm trying," she said.     "Try harder, please. Stun 'em if you have to."     That comment made Toni gasp and stare at me with hurt incredulity. Sel just glared at Jack, then at me, then things got busy again and I ignored them.     Jack hobbled away from the chair, swore loudly, and came at me more carefully, apparently both to avoid causing himself further knee pain and because it now seemed that I might actually be dangerous.     I asked, "You want to call it off, Jack? You might get really hurt, you know."     With a livid glare at me, he said, "Fuck you! Now you're gonna hurt, Daddy!"     When he punched at me again, I ducked again, but I also managed to slam my left palm into his extended elbow while pulling his forearm downward with my right hand.     His elbow straightened with a loud 'pop' just as his knee had, but again, there was no real damage. He rewarded me with more bellowed swearing as I stepped back.     I said, "Back off while you can, Jack."     Jack wasn't a quitter, I'll give him that. Or maybe he was one of those people who go a little nuts at such times. He nursed his aching elbow for a few moments, flexed it to make sure it still worked, and then tried to surprise me by lunging to grab at me.     I gripped his shirt tightly as he gripped mine, then I dropped and rolled on my back with my feet under his belt buckle. When I straightened my legs, Jack was suddenly completely upside down, his feet nearly hitting a ceiling fan as he flew over me.     There was not one damned thing he could do to prevent himself from landing flat on his back with all the energy of his lunge and the speed of our roll combined.     His head and shoulders were near enough to the floor to have been jarred a bit, but that's about all. On the other hand, his sneakered heels slammed against the wooden floor hard enough that a deep, thundering 'boom' echoed in the room and nearby windows rattled.     One of the ladies whispered, "Oh, Jesus...!"     Agony from his heels seemed to take a moment to register, but when it did, Jack groaned and grit his teeth against it.     I rolled to my feet and stood next to him, rubbing the spot where the floor had jammed my belt against my back.     Like I said, Jack wasn't a quitter. His right hand lashed out and locked around my left ankle, as expected. I quickly stomped on the inside of his elbow with my right foot. He almost screamed when his elbow crunched against the floor, but he didn't let go.     I stomped again, standing on his elbow and grinding it against the floor with all my weight, and this time he released me to yank his right arm up close to his belly and hug it to himself as the tears leaked from his closed eyes.     "That elbow hurts like hell, doesn't it, Jack? Tell you what, though... I'll bet nothing's broken yet, even if it feels that way. Are you through playing bad-ass?"     His eyes opened and he glared at me wordlessly for some moments, then he curled himself up facing away from me and slowly rolled onto his hand and knees. He gingerly got to his feet and straightened until he was facing me, still glaring.     Jack massaged his right elbow and carefully pronounced the words, "Fuck...you."     "That wasn't even close to being an apology, Jack."     He growled, "I'm gonna find out where you live, motherfucker! I'm gonna come after you and your dyke buddies! All of you!"     I gave him my best disgusted look and said, "Well, shit, Jack. That was probably the worst thing you could have said. You finally managed to scare me."     Speaking very softly, I used my implant to tell Stephanie, "Steph, take the ladies outside. Stun 'em and drag 'em out if you have to. Do it now."     "What are you going to do, Ed?"     "Things that I don't want anybody to see."     Jack's gaze narrowed as he tried to figure out why I was talking to myself.     Aloud, Steph said, "Selena. Toni. Ed would prefer that we wait outside. He insists."     "No..!" Selena argued.     "Now," said Steph, in a voice of iron.     She solidly gripped both women's arms and forcibly turned them toward the door. When the door had closed behind them, I let my gaze meet Jack's glare.     "Now it's just you and me, Jack, and now you have to make me believe that you aren't really going to be a future problem. Not for any of us, ever. If I don't believe you, I won't take the chance that you were just making noise."     He summoned up a short laugh. "Yeah? What the fuck are you gonna do, Daddy? Sit up every night with a shotgun?"     I shook my head. "Bad answer, Jack. You won't be causing trouble unless you can manage it from a wheelchair. There's a ten foot drop outside the windows. You'll be broken before you fall, though. I don't like to leave things to chance."     Jack glanced at the windows to his right. When his eyes returned to me, his glare was laced with disbelief even as he began backing away from me.     His change of attitude seemed a little too sudden, given his prior display of obnoxious determination. I moved to keep him within kicking range and he backed a bit farther away.     As he retreated he shoved one of the wood-and-metal chairs between us and reached for another one as if to put that one between us, too, but I saw his leg move as he hooked his foot under the seat of the chair and ducked to one side as he sent it flying at me.     The chair breezed past me and landed crashingly among other chairs behind me. Jack already had another chair off the floor in both hands and he put all he had into slinging it at me.     I had to get flat fast and to one side to avoid the second chair, and Jack was already coming at me with yet another of the damned chairs, raising it to use as a club as he rushed forward. A chair was near my right hand, so I swept it around in an arc and sent it skidding across the floor at his legs.     When the chair hit his shins the pain froze him briefly and made him hiss through clenched teeth, but it barely delayed his approach. I got to my feet while he dealt with it and slung another chair at his legs, following it closely.     Jack braced himself and let the chair hit him rather than lose the chance of swinging at me with the chair he held at shoulder-height.     I dropped flat again to avoid his swing and Jack's momentum doubled him over the back of the chair that hit his legs. He tumbled forward, banging his chin on the corner of the seat, then he tried to shove the chair away with one hand as his other hand kept a grip on his weapon-chair.     Kicking his supporting chair from the opposite side as he shoved it kept the chair from moving. Jack slipped and slammed his chin on the seat again.     On my back, with both my feet now on the legs of that chair, I shoved as hard as I could.     I went sliding one direction on the hardwood floor and Jack went the other, toppling backward into yet another chair.     He let go of the chair and tried to keep from landing hard, but his head hit the floor with a resounding thud that seemed to stun him for a moment.     Before he could clear his head, I knelt next to him, got a grip on his hair, and slammed his head on the floor another three times fast.     While he was more or less stunned I quickly got to my feet and jumped straight up, intending to land with both feet as hard as possible in the dead center of his belly.     Jack wasn't quite stunned enough. He made a small, screeching scream as he quickly and successfully rolled himself sideways to get out from under my landing.     I kicked him hard twice in the kidneys to make him arch and freeze, then stomped his head against the floor twice. His eyes glazed for a moment and he rolled on his back.     As I again prepared to jump on his belly, Jack dazedly lifted his left arm weakly and whisperingly screamed, "No!"     Instead of landing on his belly, I changed course to let my feet land on his knees and slide off them.     Jack screamed as the backs of his knees ground against the floor. He rolled over to curl himself up and tried to hug his knees without bending his legs.     "Now tell me why, Jack. Tell me why I shouldn't break your goddamned arms and shove your ass out a window."     He looked up and back at me as if I'd shattered some deeply held belief of his, and maybe I had. Jack was used to being on the other end of pain.     He remained still as he said, "I... I didn't think you..."     "What? That I could actually take you down? Or that I'd really pitch your ass out a window? Do you think so now?"     He nodded, hissingly discovering the pain of moving his neck as he almost whispered, "Yes."     "You just stay real still, there, Jack. You threatened my friends and me and I believed you. Do you truly believe that I'll do whatever the hell I have to? More importantly, do you truly believe that I can do it?"     Through gritted teeth, he again muttered, "Yes!"     Moving slightly as if to prepare to kick him again, I asked, "Really, Jack? You really believe? 'Cause if I don't believe you, I'm going to finish this right now. I may go to jail for a while, but I won't have to worry about my friends going to the hospital because of you."     He flinched away as my foot moved and said, "Yes! Yes, I believe you!"     My options: Cripple him and likely spend some time in jail or let him go now and make it look right for the cops if he showed up later.     "Well, Jack, I don't really want to go to jail on a weekend, so I'm going to walk out of here now. If you mess with any of us again I'll set it up so the cops'll find you dead with a knife in your hand. I don't much care if you believe me about that 'cause you'll find out if you try it, but at least tell me you understand what I'm saying."     After a moment, he said in a flat tone, "Yes. I understand."     "Uh, huh. We'll watch for you anyway, Jack."     I turned and walked away from him toward the door, listening hard for sounds of leftover aggression. There were none. At the door, I could see his reflection in the narrow glass pane; he was still on the floor, clutching his knees and glaring after me. I left the room and headed down the hallway to the main foyer restroom.     Dusting off and washing my face and hands, I checked my front and back in the sink mirror and found no unnoticed injuries or ripped clothing. I ran a comb through my hair and headed out of the building, watching for an ambush and staying in the middle of the corridor, but nothing happened. Chapter Sixteen     "Steph," I called through my implant, "Where are you?"     "We're by the front doors, Ed. On the benches by the steps."     "Where's Jack?"     "He's crossing the quad, heading toward the parking area."     I noted that she didn't ask what had happened or how I was. Glancing quickly around above my head I saw her tiny field probe suddenly vanish like a soap bubble.     "Jack promised to stay away from all of us," I said, "I don't know if we can really believe that, but short of actually crippling him..."     "Indeed. I'm very glad that I won't have to visit you in prison, Ed."     "Well, I'm very glad that pleases you, miLady. Since you haven't asked about my condition, I'd like to say that I hope you have some horse liniment in your first-aid kit. I expect to feel this encounter for a few days."     "Is this a ploy to gain sympathy and attention?"     "I didn't say that I was injured, did I? I'm just expecting to feel things for a while, that's all. Jeez, lady, gimme a break. Hey, you won't rat me out if I limp a little for Selena and Toni, will you?"     "Oh, no, of course not, Ed. They'd see through such a ploy the first time you limp on the wrong leg. I reserve the right to laugh at that time, of course."     "You're such a comfort to me, Steph."     "It's part of the job, Ed."     As soon as I turned the corner that brought the front doors into view, Selena and Toni hurried to intercept me and walked with me to the doors.     After multiple reassurances that I was unhurt, Selena punched my arm somewhat harder than she usually did when she wanted to make a point.     "You could have been hurt, Ed! What the hell were you thinking? Stephie could have..."     I stopped walking and turned to face her.     "Don't hit my arm like that, lady. I'm going to have enough bruises later. What I was thinking was that Jack is a first-class obsessive asshole who'd have kept after Toni. Because we're her friends, we'd be on his list, too, if only as places to look for her. For what it may be worth, he agreed to leave us all alone."     Toni looked astonished. "He actually said that?"     I nodded. "Yeah."     We'd reached the flitter and climbed aboard before Toni spoke again.     "Jesus," said Toni. "If he said something like that at all... Well, you'd have to know Jack. I saw him lose to a wrestler-guy once. The guy put him down four times, but Jack got up and jumped on the guy's back when he tried to walk away. The guy had to choke him unconscious just to get away from him. How the hell did you get him to say something like that?"     "I just did, Toni. Steph, unless anyone needs to stop somewhere, we can head over to Merritt Island now."     Nodding to me, Steph lifted us eastward.     "But..." started Toni.     Stephanie said, "Maybe we don't really need to know, Toni."     "Huh? Why not?"     "Because Ed seems reluctant to speak of it. That's reason enough."     Toni let slip a small grin and said, "Oh, right. Now I really want to know."     "But I don't want to talk about it," I snapped. "Let it go, Toni."     She flared and said, "If we don't know what happened, how can we be sure he really won't come looking for us?"     "You couldn't and you can't, whether I tell you what happened or not. People will do whatthehell ever they're gonna do, Toni. If Jack can talk himself into thinking that I just got lucky, he might not give it up. There's no way to know that unless he tries something. Anything else is guessing, and rather than do that, we'll just assume the worst and try to be ready for him."     Toni's gaze narrowed and she said, "I want to know what happened in there, Ed."     I sighed and said, "Then ask Stephanie to play it back for you later, but not while I'm around."     Selena gave me a frustrated, questioning look and asked, "Why not when you're around?"     "Because I asked you not to. Do I need more of a reason for that, too? When you don't want to talk about something, do I bug you about it?"     Selena looked at Toni, then back at me, shook her head and said, "No, I guess not. Okay. Fine. Sure. Happy?"     "Happy enough," I said, rising and walking to the back of the flitter to gaze out at the receding countryside.     Through my implant, Stephie asked, "May I ask that same question, Ed? Why may I show them a replay later, but only when you aren't with them?"     "They won't like what they'll see me do to Jack and they'll need some time after that to let it soak in and settle into a place where it won't bug them too much. I don't want to deal with their immediate questions and opinions about how I dealt with Jack, and if I give them some time alone with it, the impact will diminish a bit before they can bring it up."     "Would you mind if I include myself in their discussions? I found your treatment of Jack... disturbing... as well, Ed."     "Go for it, Steph, but before you do, try to get Toni's total perception of Jack. Legal threats and restraining orders don't stop some people. The only things that stop them are lots of pain and real fear."     Steph took us in a generally straight line from Gainesville to Merritt Island, arcing us upward somewhat to avoid the complex flight patterns around Orlando.     As we began settling back to Earth, I recognized the NASA Causeway and the County road #3 cutoff that led south down the approximate middle of Merritt Island.     About half a mile south of the cutoff was a sign that said "Palmas" -- the name of the condo complex they'd built in what had been a swamp -- and another half mile east of CR-3 was a cluster of two-story buildings surrounded by parking lots. It looked to me as if they'd just plopped some cement in rectangular patterns and then built odd-looking houses on it.     "Steph, would you put up a picture of Engles for us?"     A field screen popped into being and a Florida driver's license appeared. Brown hair, brown eyes, six feet, one-sixty-five. Heavy brows and the kind of face that looks slightly confused or sad all the time due to the shape of the eyes.     Most of the cars I saw in the parking lot had Patrick AFB or Cape Canaveral bumper stickers. That seemed to pretty much make the condo complex a GI village, possibly even leased off-base housing.     "There," said Steph, indicating a two-story duplex on our left.     After waiting for a car below to pull into a space and clear the driveway, Steph made the flitter visible with the fake stainless canopy and hull and we landed.     The guy getting out of his car spotted us and froze, then he reached back inside the car and sounded his horn in a couple of long blasts. That wasn't a civilian reaction. A civvy might have stood staring or run screaming, but damned few would have sounded an alert with a car horn. Faces appeared at windows and doors almost instantly.     We got off the flitter, then walked up to the door of 153-C and rang the bell. Some moments later the door opened and a man's eyes registered first me, then the ladies, then the flitter behind us. The eyes and face definitely belonged to Engles.     After a long moment his eyes refocused to survey Toni, Sel, and Steph, and then found their way back to me.     "Hi," I said. "You must be Rich Engles."     "Uh, yeah, that's me," he said, then he looked at the flitter again before he stepped back to invite us in with a gesture.     Steph made the flitter rise out of sight and we went inside. Rich looked us over individually and as a group as we stepped over the rolled-up bright purple hang glider that stretched from his kitchen into the living room.     "Fluorescent purple?" asked Toni with a grin.     "Believe me, it wasn't my first choice, either," said Engles, "But it was what was available at the time."     Engles and I began discussing the kite in detail as we unrolled it and looked over the fabric and hardware. He knew all the specs, but he sounded as if he were reciting them from a memorized list.     I flicked a fingernail against a spar as if listening to it -- right next to a serial number and manufacturer's info plate -- and said, "Woo. A real live serial number. Back when I bought my first kite they didn't have those."     Through my implant Steph said, "It was originally sold to Thomas Caputo, then of Colorado. He currently resides in Cocoa Beach and yesterday he received a check for $1800.00 from Mr. Engles. Mr. Caputo's lifestyle may have influenced his choice of colors, Ed. He's co-owner of a gay nightclub in Denver called 'The Exposition'. There's a monitoring device concealed within the central spar, by the way."     I nodded as I chuckled and asked, "Steph, can you do something about the color?"     Speaking aloud, Steph asked, "My choice?"     With a grin, I said, "Of course, as long as it's a nice shade of green."     Steph grinned back at me as she nodded, crossed her arms, and blinked. Toni chuckled and Selena laughed out loud.     Engles simply stared at us. Well, he mostly stared at Steph. She'd gone with a mid-thigh skirt and jacket with low heeled slip-ons, all in shades of green, of course.     Besides being a spectacularly beautiful woman, she had a posture and carriage that was -- to the best of my ability to describe it -- almost regal in a friendly sort of way.     Toni's sharp intake of breath caused Engles to glance at her, then look where she was looking. He took a big step back from the hang glider in total startlement.     The kite fabric began morphing from purple to a deep emerald green as Steph's field modified the molecular structure. Everybody watched the transformation with fascination until Engles tore his gaze away and looked first at Steph, then at me.     "She's... She's doing that? Making that happen?"     I grinned and said, "Yup. Helluva trick, isn't it?"     "Uh. Yeah," he mumbled, "A... helluva trick. Yes, it is..."     "I'll give you $1800.00 for the kite or I'll ask her to make it purple again, Rich."     "Huh?" He looked at me for a moment and said, "But, I, uh, I was asking $2100.00 "     "Yeah, but I'm not desperate and I'm on a budget. It's only worth $1800.00 to me."     Engles pretended to have to give the matter some thought, then he said, "I'd like some time to think about it."     I nodded. "Okay. You'll find another buyer and I'll find another kite someday. Steph, would you be so kind as to make it purple again?"     She grinned and nodded and the edges of the fabric started to morph back to fluorescent purple. Engles watched in anguish as the green reversed to purple for perhaps a foot or so, then he held up a hand.     "No, wait. That won't be necessary. I'll take the $1800.00."     "Will you take a check?"     He nodded. "Yeah. Put your license number on it, though. My bank gets pissy about stuff like that."     Uh, huh. Banks don't give a damn; it's up to you to collect on a bad check. He just wanted to look properly cautious.     I wrote him a check and asked for a receipt. Engles went to the kitchen and came back with a pad of paper, then scribbled out a receipt that included the serial number from the spar.     "Where's your new kite?" I asked him as he wrote.     Without looking up, he said, "On base, at my office."     I glanced at Steph. She shook her head and said through my implant, "There is no glider at his office, Ed."     Nodding to Steph, I asked Engles, "Will they let you launch it off a building?"     "No," said Engles. "I'll have to go to the Wallaby Ranch below Orlando or up to TICO airport, like everybody else. I don't suppose you'll have to bother with that, though. You can launch from that flitter, can't you?"     "That was my plan," I said. "Steph doesn't seem to think much of that idea, though."     He looked up and asked, "Why not?"     I shrugged. "She thinks we ought to see if it's flyable first, but damned if I know how we'd find out something like that without flying it."     That got me a dour look from Steph. Sel and Toni grinned and Sel snickered.     Engles looked slightly startled and offended.     "Of course it's flyable. It's used, but it isn't..."     "Oh, I believe that, Rich, or I wouldn't be buying it at any price. I'm just saying that Steph thinks gliders are a little too low-tech." Turning to Steph, I said, "Why don't we go out and make some room aboard for it, ma'am?"     Steph looked at me oddly, but nodded.     Handing me the receipt, Engles said, "I'll help you carry it."     I shook my head. "Not yet. Let's see how it's going to fit first."     Steph and I headed outside, where the flitter was settling back to the parking lot. Rich didn't seem to think the glider would fit the deck and went ahead of us with Sel and Toni to get a closer look at the flitter as Steph and I lagged behind.     Speaking softly, I said, "Let's leave that monitoring device on the parking lot when we take off, Steph."     "They used enough adhesive to plug the tube, Ed. It can't just fall out."     "Then I guess we'll just have to kill it before it leaves the condo, ma'am. Can you zap it when we pick it up and frizz it a little in the process, so it will seem like a malfunction?"     She smiled. "No problem, Ed."     "MiLady Stephanie," I said, "You're a true wonder."     Engles paced alongside the flitter and said that there wasn't enough room behind the seats. Steph told him that we could carry it underneath, instead, and didn't elaborate as we went back into the condo.     When Engles and I picked up the kite, I glanced at Steph. She nodded and smiled, then I headed for the door with my end of the glider. We laid it on the ground, then Steph made the flitter field lift it and snuggle it up to the underside. After a round of goodbyes, Engles simply stared as we all got back aboard the flitter and lifted off. Chapter Seventeen     Toni opened the cooler and pulled out three beers. She regarded me thoughtfully for a moment as she handed me mine. I looked at her questioningly, but she didn't say anything. Selena turned her seat enough to punt my foot with hers, breaking the momentary spell.     "I still say you're nuts," said Selena. "You don't need to risk your ass in that oversized kite when you have Steph."     "It isn't the same kind of flying, Sel."     "No shit," said Toni. "You get into a bag and hang under a rag instead of sitting up here with a beer."     I said, "Oh, listen to her, would ya? Toni, you could write country music. That was positively poetic."     She made a face at me. "It's positively true, too."     A chime sounded from my watch as Steph created a field screen.     "Yes'm," I said, both in answer to Toni and to Linda, whose face appeared on the field.     Linda looked up from something and into the screen and said, "Dragonfly, we may need you this evening. Clear the decks and stand by, please."     Sel and Toni heard the serious tone behind her words and looked at me questioningly as I answered Linda.     "Roger that, Fearless Leader. Selena and Toni are here with me. Can't just toss 'em over the side, ma'am."     "Call me as soon as you're alone, Dragonfly."     She clicked off and the field screen winked out of existence.     Selena said, "I guess that means we don't play tonight."     I shook my head. "Not yet, it doesn't. It just means that I'm waiting for word. We're going straight to your place as soon as we dump the kite in my garage."     Speaking of which, I could see my garage door opening as we descended toward my house. We hovered in the driveway as Steph fielded the hang glider into the garage. I hopped down to sling it from the rafters with some loops of scrap rope as the garage door closed behind me.     Sel and Toni had taken seats in the living room. I spent a few moments with Tiger in the kitchen as Steph told him that I might have to leave again for a while.     He said something to Steph and she responded, then Tiger put a paw on my hand, extended his claws until they rested lightly on my skin, and said something in a low tone that made Steph raise an eyebrow.     Steph said, "He wishes to go with you. He's offering you his assistance."     "His claws are out, Steph. What did you just tell him?"     "I only told him that Linda might need your assistance and that she would call you if necessary."     "That's all?"     "That's all. Did you think he was unaware of your world outside this house?"     "Well, no, not completely, but..."     Tiger's little face looked up at mine and I saw a special firmness in his eyes and demeanor. It was the same 'back to back, come hell or high water' look I'd seen in some peoples' eyes at certain times in my life. I nodded as I patted him.     "Sounds good to me, Steph. Tell him he's coming along."     Now her raised eyebrow was aimed at me.     "Is that wise, Ed?"     "Sure. Elkor will cover him and Tiger seems pretty serious about this."     A few of Steph's catty sounds later Tiger nodded once and jumped down to go to his food dish.     I grinned. "Check it out. They know without being told or trained, Steph. Eat when you can, sleep when you can, and be ready to jump."     Leaving everybody inside, I stepped onto the porch, closed the door, and called Linda back on my watch.     "I'm alone on the porch, Linda."     "It's one of the Earth-Firsters, Ed. We busted their grand opening, but a few of the virus canisters got out. Four, we think. The Atlanta cops responded to a domestic disturbance call Tuesday night. When they got there, they found a woman -- presumed to be the one who called -- on the kitchen floor. She'd been bludgeoned, but the cops couldn't find the weapon. Background on the boyfriend placed him with Earth First as a trusted local gofer, which brought us into things. We isolated everybody and checked them and the house for the virus, then the cops and a couple of our people searched the place again."     She paused, then said, "They found one of those special shipping boxes, Ed; the kind that were in that warehouse in Grand Forks. It was empty. The dents in the woman's skull match the bottom of a virus canister well enough, too. We're beating the bushes for the guy and we have both flitter teams in place above Atlanta, but it's a big town. I want you and Stephie up there with them. How soon can you leave?"     "I'll drop Selena and Toni off and get moving."     "Thanks, Ed. Thank Stephie for me, too. Later."     She signed off.     I went back into the house and said, "Sorry, ladies. I'm working tonight as of right now. All aboard."     Toni stood up and asked, "It's an emergency?"     "Not yet. We're joining a search team to prevent that."     Tiger floated into the room on a field disk and Elkor said, "We are prepared, Ed."     Sel gave an odd little laugh and asked, "You can take Tiger, but you can't take us?"     I stepped over to kiss her and said, "He can't tell anyone about it later, Sel, and he seems to think he needs to be there to help me."     "Help you how?" asked Toni. "He may mean well, but he's just a cat."     Kissing Toni, as well, I said, "Well, maybe he'll drag me out of a burning building or something. I'd like to take you both along, but Linda would get really pissed and she tells them to pay me. Or not. You know how that is, right?"     "Yeah, yeah," said Toni. "Excuses. Let's go."     I packed an overnight bag and made a fresh coffee, then we boarded the flitter. A few minutes later the ladies got off at Sel's condo and Steph headed us toward Atlanta.     Steph said she'd opened a data link, but that nothing new had developed. I called up a field screen and opened a link to Linda. She answered from a field office, which was essentially a heavily renovated Winnebago.     "Kinda plain, but kinda fancy, too," I said. "What'd they do, park it outside your house to save you a trip to base?"     "As a matter of fact, they did," said Linda. "It'll be my comm center for the evening. Where are you?"     "ETA Atlanta in ten minutes," I said, "Where do you want us?"     "Southside," she said. "Near the airport. Steph already has the grid."     Tiger heard Linda's voice and sounded off before jumping from the dash to the seat next to mine. Linda's screen eyes bugged a bit and flicked to me.     "You brought your cat?"     I shrugged.     "He wanted to come and he won't be much of a security risk. He just said hello, Linda. It's your turn."     Her eyes narrowed at me, then she looked at Tiger again and said, "Hi, Tiger."     "Such enthusiasm," I said. "I thought you liked him."     After a sigh at me, Linda, smiled in a rather sardonic manner and said, "Hello, Tiger! How's every furry little thing in your world tonight?"     Steph translated for Tiger. He responded by standing as tall as possible and yowling loudly and long while looking at Linda.     Steph said, "Tiger said, 'We will rend and destroy your enemies', Linda."     Linda blinked at Tiger and met his gaze for a moment, then turned to Steph and asked, "He really said that?"     Nodding, Steph said, "Yes, approximately. I let the word 'destroy' cover many of the more graphic details of his statement."     With a real smile this time, Linda said, "Well, thank you very much, Tiger."     Her tone had been somewhat patronizing, but after Steph relayed Linda's words, Tiger seemed to assume a rather smug expression and sat down.     Linda then turned to me and said, "Let Stephanie coordinate with the others when you get there. Talk to you later, Dragonfly. Goodbye, Tiger."     Her finger descended next to the screen and terminated the call.     3rd World's flitter One was commanded by someone named Alexis Gear and flitter Two was commanded by Angela Horn. I wondered if there were some specific reason that both flits were commanded by women and punched up a screen to ask that question of Angela.     "Hi, Angela," I said, "Did Linda make flitter driving a ladies-only kind of job tonight?"     "Hi, Ed. Hi, Steph. No, we happened to be on duty when the call came... Is that a cat? It is! That's a cat!"     "Damn. Nothing gets past you, does it? His name's Tiger. He's helping me tonight."     "What?"     "Never mind. Linda cleared him. How's progress?"     She shrugged and grinned.     "Well, we know he's down there somewhere. All we have to do is turn Atlanta upside down and shake it a few times. He's Bob Martin, 28, single, a white power freak, an anti-Amaran freak, anti-Jew, anti-etcetera, and a fanatic in good standing with the quasi-religious side of Earth First. I'm sending you his data now. All we're waiting for is the word to drop down and isolate him and the virus canister. I still can't believe you brought your cat, Ed."     "Well, since he's sitting right here, you need to try a little harder, ma'am. So we're just waiting? Nothing else to do?"     She shook her head and laughed softly.     "Nope. And since the containment order will go to the flitters before it gets to us, I'm kind of wondering why we humans are out here at all."     Nodding as I grinned at Steph, I said, "Yup. I know that feeling. Okay, then. Later, Angela. Bye."     "Bye." Angela clicked off.     Less than a minute later Alexis clicked on and said, "Hello, Ed. I'm Alexis. We haven't met, but Angela's..." Her blue eyes flicked to the seat next to mine and she said, "That's a cat! You have a cat aboard your flitter!"     I looked at Tiger as if surprised. He looked back at me as if bored.     "Oh, my God!" I said, "You're right! Steph, isn't our cat-filter working?"     "Apparently not," said a grinning Steph as she reached to pet Tiger.     "And who's that?!" yelped Alexis, staring at Stephanie.     "This is Stephanie. Steph, meet Alexis."     "Hello," said Steph.     Alexis looked rather disconcerted as she said, "Uh, hello. Uh, Ed, what's her clearance? Is she with 3rd World? Does Linda know about her?"     "Would she be here if Linda didn't know about her?"     Looking very dubious, Alexis said, "Stand by. I'll get back to you," then quickly poked her 'off' icon.     I pulled her data up on the screen. Alexis Gear; 25, single, blonde, and by her evaluation records, apparently someone who had total faith in the 'by the book' way of doing things.     Opening a Dr Pepper, I punched up the book I'd been reading on my datapad as we waited for further instructions. Alexis called back in less than two minutes.     "Sorry, Ed," she said, "I... Is that a Dr Pepper?"     "Yes, it is. Very astute, ma'am. You called Linda, right?"     "Uh, yes. I did."     "And Linda said what?"     Alexis drew a breath as if about to admit something dire and said, "Linda said that there was no problem."     "Did you call someone to verify that?"     Her gaze narrowed. "Now you're being sarcastic."     "Yes, ma'am," I admitted with a slight nod.     Frankly staring at Steph, she said, "You could have told me she was your ship's computer."     I shrugged.     "Never got the chance. You hung up on me. Is this a progress report or an update or something like that?"     Her gaze narrowed somewhat more, then she straightened and gave me a plastic smile as she said, "No, I just called to say hello, Ed. We haven't met, and I thought you'd like to know who you'd be working with tonight."     "Uh, huh. Well, I really just sort of figured you'd be someone who'd do your job as necessary. Why not tell it like it is, Alexis? You thought you'd like to know who else was up here. Now you know. Is there anything else?"     Still looking somewhat disconcerted and irritated, Alexis said, "Uh, no, I guess not."     "Okay, then," I said. "Holler when you've got some news."     After a silent moment and a glance at all three of us, Alexis tapped off the connection. I brought my book back up and leaned back to read.     Steph said, "You were a little abrupt with her, Ed."     "I didn't like her, Steph, and we aren't here to socialize."     "You decided you don't like her based on less than two minutes' conversation?"     "Yup. It takes less than that with some people."     The console beeped and Steph fielded the call onto the console screen.     "Ed," said Angela, "I just talked to Alexis. She seems more than a little tense all of a sudden. What happened?"     "Steph," I said, "Send her a playback, please. Angela, watch the rerun and call me again if you have questions."     "A playback? You record everything, all the time?"     "No, just everything business or public. We're on company time, so her call was business."     I left unsaid that Angela's call was also 'business', but she seemed to have no trouble understanding that. Her eyebrow went up and she nodded.     "I see. Okay, I'll watch the replay."     Her finger was moving toward the 'off' icon as I said, "Angela."     "Yes?"     "If I hurt her feelings, I'm sorry, but I'd prefer not to know her beyond working with her. You said the same thing about Dell Pierce for essentially the same reasons, as I recall. He checked every little thing you did as if you were some kind of trainee. I think Alexis would be the same way if she had any rank on us, and she just plain irritated me."     "I see," she said again. "A personality clash."     "Yeah. Call it that."     For a moment it seemed that she might say more, then she simply nodded and tapped off the screen. I went back to reading and sipping Dr Pepper.     Two hours later Steph said, "I'm receiving coordinates," as Linda activated our flitter console.     "Got him, people," said Linda. "He's holed up in a gas station on the south loop near the airport. Four hostages. Flits One and Two, contain the building. Ed, stand by above."     The others chimed their crisp, sharp 'yes, ma'am's' and I said, "Roger that, Fearless Leader."     The gas station was ringed with cop cars, of course, and there was a bear in the air, as well as two TV news choppers. The other two flitters circled the scene twice, then stationed themselves on each side of the building and extended vaguely visible filtration fields that covered the building and immediate surroundings.     Both of the 3rd World flits were in stealth mode until they took up their positions, then they became visible, appearing suddenly and causing a small commotion in the gathering of cops and other onlookers.     Tiger spoke. Steph translated.     "Ed, Tiger wants to know why the other flitters didn't remain concealed."     "Tell him that people feel better when they can see what's going on, and better still when they can see that something's actually being done about it."     Pointing downward, I said, "Some of those cops and firemen know there's a virus canister in the hands of a nutcase. Now all they have to worry about is getting the hostages out before the nutcase does something stupid."     Steph kept us in stealth mode as we settled to the ground behind the ring of police vehicles. Putting up a vid screen, Steph panned the entire storefront section of the gas station, then had her probe hover above the big front window.     Somehow the glass front doors had been shattered outward and Bob Martin had all but one of his hostages lying on the floor near the back of the store.     The fourth hostage -- a woman who looked to be in her twenties and wore a polyester jacket with the store's logo on it -- was in use as a human shield. Martin had an arm around her throat and a snub revolver pointed at her head.     One of the hostages, another woman, appeared to have been knocked unconscious. She lay sprawled on the floor in the doorway. The other two hostages, a man and a woman, also lay on the floor, but seemed conscious. And scared. Chapter Eighteen     "Linda," I said, "Alexis and Angela are in place. The cops are in place. Looks as if everyone else who matters is in place. Now, how do we get ol' Bobby out of there? Zap him with a stun field and drag him out?"     "He might drop or trigger the canister if we stun him, Ed. He might also kill his hostage. We need to part Martin from his gun, the canister, and the hostages without getting anyone killed. That includes Martin. We'd like to talk to him."     "Uh, huh. Figures you'd hand the glamor job to the shy guy. Gimme a minute. Too much broken glass by the doors; he'd hear me coming, even if he couldn't see me. Back door's barred and bolted. Windows don't open. Cut a hole in the back door or wall, maybe?"     "That's been considered," said Linda. "But the door's wired to a standalone alarm system and a probe shows boxes of stuff stacked almost ceiling high along all the storage room walls, even in the bathroom. Something could fall over."     "Huh. Figures. Would have been too easy. Steph, who owns the new Crown Victoria parked by the pumps?"     Steph seemed thoughtful for a second, then said, "The vehicle is registered to Andrea Collins, one of the hostages."     "She'd probably be the well-dressed, unconscious one just inside the door, don't you think?"     "Let's not guess. I'm accessing driver license records. Yes. She's Collins."     I looked at the four-door sedan as we discussed its owner, then told Steph to drop a screen field between the car and the glass doors of the shop; a field that would continue to display the car just as it was at that moment.     Speaking to Linda, I said, "I'll get in the back of the car, then pretend to wake up and get out of it after Steph removes the field. Maybe we'd better let the cops in on this. I don't want to discuss it with them, but I don't want them shooting at me, either."     Linda said she'd take care of it. After Steph put the screen field in place I said, "five suit on" and had Steph hover on the other side of the pumps from the Crown Vic. When I started to step to the ground, Tiger spoke up.     "He wants to go with you," said Steph.     I considered matters a moment.     "Okay. When I get out of the car I'll be holding a cat. That ought to look harmless enough to Martin. Tiger can jump down and run inside the store, then he's to run around the store and get behind Martin. When I say his name, he's to yell as loud as he can and keep yelling. Tell him that and see if you think he really understands it all."     Elkor said, "Ed, I could perform that role. There's no reason to put Tiger at risk."     "He wants to help me, Elkor. You can cover his little furry butt without making it too obvious, can't you?"     "Yes, Ed."     "Then let's give him a chance to be a hero, Elkor. If things get too dangerous, just get him out of there. Go ahead and tell him what I want him to do, please."     Some moments later Steph said, "Tiger seems to understand fully, Ed. Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?"     "Yup. What do you think Martin will do when he sees me get out of the car with a cat?"     In a dry tone, Steph said, "Possibly shoot at you."     "You could handle that while we get clear, couldn't you?"     "Yes." One word. One flat syllable. Steph wasn't pleased.     I shrugged. "Okay then. Places, everybody."     Once I'd quietly opened the left rear door of the Crown Vic and gotten into the car with Tiger, I closed it just as quietly and got flat on the seat.     When Steph removed the illusion field, I sat up and looked around as if just waking up, then opened the right rear door and got out backwards, as if trying to keep Tiger inside the car.     Tiger got past me, of course, jumping to the ground and running. I pretended to chase him briefly toward the store's glass doors without noticing what was going on inside. He ran through the glassless door, zipped around some shelves, and hauled ass at high speed to the back of the store.     I kicked curiously at the broken glass on the concrete and looked through the doorway, apparently only then spotting the people inside.     Martin said, "Get your ass in here, Sleeping Beauty."     Pretending vast shock, I asked what was going on. Martin had the uncocked revolver in his right hand and the canister in his left, and that arm was around the clerk's neck as he held the gun to her head. He repeated his order to get inside.     Looking down as I entered, I started to kneel next to Collins and said, "Andrea!"     "Goddammit, forget her!" yelled Martin. "I told you to get your ass over here!"     "Why? You've got her. You don't need either of us. Let me put her in the car, okay?"     Martin briefly aimed the gun at me and said, "Buddy, if you don't do what I say right now, you ain't gonna be worryin' about her much longer."     I stood up slowly and walked over there as ordered. Martin told me to turn around and he put the gun to my head, then let the girl go and told her to wave a phone at the cops.     She picked up the phone behind the counter and waved it in the window. A few seconds later it rang and she answered it.     "Hello? Yes, he's right here."     "No shit I'm right here," said Martin. "Hold the phone for me, honey. No tricks."     She held the receiver up to his ear. As Martin tried to bully a deal with the cops, Andrea Collins moaned softly and seemed to be coming around a bit.     Andrea stirring. The clerk standing to his right. The phone conversation. The cops outside. Me. Martin's attention was being split half a dozen ways when I said, "Tiger."     Tiger yowled as if someone had stepped on his tail and startled the hell out of Martin, who glanced back over his shoulder and almost lost an eye to a small furry fistful of claws.     Tiger hadn't just yelled. He'd also leaped onto Martin's back to securely attach himself and hang between Martin's shoulder blades, kicking his hind feet as if to disembowel Martin from behind.     I didn't know that at the moment, of course, but I heard Martin's shriek and the gun pointed at the ceiling instead of me for a moment.     Grabbing both of Martin's wrists, I shoved them out and ahead of me as I rammed backwards and lifted his feet off the floor. He shrieked again, but he didn't let go of the gun, so I let him fall to the right between the coffee kiosk and the snack racks and put my knee under his elbow, shoving down hard on his forearm. When his elbow broke, his hand opened wide and the gun clattered to the floor.     But he also let go of the canister. I slipped a cushioning field under it and grabbed for it at the same time, but it floated away and out of the store. Stephanie had already taken possession of it. I picked up the gun and looked for Tiger.     The cat looked like one big bottlebrush, arched up and prancing like a boxer as he danced in close and took a screaming swat at Martin's face.     Martin yelled and unthinkingly tried to swat back at Tiger, but the motion jarred his broken elbow and made him freeze and gasp in agony.     I sent a field tendril to stun Martin and he relaxed considerably, but came out of it again when his injured arm slid off his chest and hit the floor. Damn.     "Elkor, please tell Tiger he did a great job and then contain him well away from the doors. I don't want the cops stepping on him or shooting him."     "Yes, Ed."     Elkor's cat golem popped into existence and Tiger nearly attacked it before he realized who'd joined the scene. Whatever Elkor said to Tiger seemed to calm him some and he began prancing off his combat high in a side aisle as his fur settled and the arch in his back began to flatten.     Martin sat up and made a grab for the gun with his good arm and I swatted him hard in the temple with it. He toppled over on his side, out cold.     It was only then that I saw what Tiger had done to his back. Martin's shirt was shredded and he was bleeding rather profusely from what seemed to be hundreds of scratches.     "Damn," I said, "He looks as if he met a real tiger."     A flat field about two feet wide with Linda's face in the center appeared before me.     She said, "Steph says it's over in there. How about a sitrep?"     "Yes'm. Steph has the canister and Martin's sleeping on the floor 'cause I hit him with the gun. Collins seems to have a bad head wound. No other casualties. All clear."     Linda nodded. "Okay. Good job. Yell if you need me."     Martin was coming around a bit as I said, "Will do."     The field screen disappeared and everyone but the still semi-conscious Collins was staring at me, even Martin.     "What?" I asked them. "That was my boss, people. She'll get pissed if I don't take her calls."     The store clerk rather tentatively waved her hands through the air where the screen had been and asked, "Who are you? What the hell was that... that thing?"     I didn't get a chance to answer because several cops in full swat gear burst into the store. One took the gun from my hand and Tiger got all fuzzed up again, but Elkor said something that made him start to defuzz, then Tiger jumped up to the coffee counter and sat down to watch the show.     As the cops ID'd everybody, relaxed a bit, and called in the medics, I patted Tiger and told him that he'd done a great job, then picked him up and said, "Three suit on."     The clerk and some of the others were staring right at me as the three suit began bending light around Tiger and me. A minor hubbub ensued, during which I quietly began easing my way toward the doors.     "Oh my Gawd!" muttered the clerk, backing away from the counter in big-eyed amazement. "Oh, Jeezus! He's gone! He just up and damned disappeared! Oh, Jeezus!"     The girl blankly stared at one of the cops for a moment, then turned to stare at the space where she'd last seen me. I waited until the cops propped the glassless door frames open for the medics and gurneys, then strolled outside with Tiger.     "Steph," I whispered, "Where am I going?"     "The flitter is where you left it, Ed."     "Thank you, milady."     As we neared the flitter I felt Steph's field engulf us. Once we were inside it, I could see the flitter. Steph stood by the pilot's seat, smiling as Tiger leaped aboard and began telling her all about his adventure.     The virus canister rested on the deck. The fact that the containment fields were visible at all made me look questioningly at Steph, who held up a hushing finger for a few moments of quiet from Tiger.     "Yes?" asked Steph.     "Why dual harmonic fields and why are they visible? Is it leaking?"     "No," said Steph. "Linda wanted them to be seen. We're waiting for orders to move. I was waiting for you to get here before I made the canopy field transparent."     "Ah. Leave it opaque until Linda gives the word, okay? If you drop it now, they'll be all over us."     "Okay."     I stepped aboard and pulled a beer out of the cooler before sitting down. Tiger had taken his usual place on the dashboard and continued to regale Steph, complete with feline facial expressions, sounds of fury, and bared claws.     He had to know that she'd recorded the event, but his story continued for some moments, then he appeared ready to reiterate key events. Steph grinned and nodded and seemed appropriately impressed, of course.     The console chimed to announce an incoming call and ID'd the caller as Angela. A second chime sounded. Alexis.     Steph gave me an odd, questioning look as I tapped the comm console and closed all comm links except Linda's, then punched up the book I'd been reading.     "Why did you block general comm access, Ed?"     Placing my finger on the bookmark symbol, I said, "I don't want to do a post-game wrap-up with anyone, Steph. I'm off-line for now."     A screen popped up and Linda said, "Sociable as ever, eh, Ed? I'll tell Alexis and Angela that you're offline by order. Good going, everybody." With a grin, she added, "I've seen the replay. Tiger, you were a real tiger this evening."     Steph translated her compliment and Tiger didn't even try to fake humility. His smug little face looked back at us for a few moments, then he started bathing as if to get the blood off.     Linda laughed, then told us to let everybody get a good look at the canister in the containment field before we headed back.     "How good a look, ma'am?" I asked. "One minute? Two?"     "Don't be difficult, Ed. Let them see it -- that is, make sure they see it -- before you lift."     "Yas'm. Stephie, time to go to parade mode."     "Parade mode?"     "All ahead slow. Very visible. That's parade mode, milady." I looked at the screen and added, "Would drifting past the brass and press on our way out be good enough?"     Linda nodded and said, "It would. See you in a few."     She tapped off her pad.     As soon as her image was gone, I said, "Three suit on," and turned to Steph. "Do you want to be seen, ma'am?"     Steph said, "No, I think not," and vanished.     Tiger gave his ear-flick equivalent of a shrug and turned to gaze ahead from the dashboard. Steph dropped our concealment screens and we cruised the lot as far as the exit as cameras flashed, then she lifted us upward past a couple of news helicopters and headed us westward.     As soon as we were above and beyond it all, I said "three suit off" and sipped my beer.     A studious look from Steph made me ask, "Yes, milady?"     "Has it occurred to you that T-I-G-E-R may want to accompany you on other assignments, Ed?"     "Yes, it has, Steph. Are you absolutely sure he can't spell his name?"     "Yes, I'm sure. Aren't you concerned about his safety?"     "If you and Elkor were unavailable, I'd say no to bringing Tiger on assignments. If Elkor's covering Tiger and you're covering me, we'll be as safe as we can possibly be."     Steph regarded Tiger for a moment, then said, "I'm not sure he has any real concept of injury, death, or danger, Ed."     "Oh, I think he understands injury, at least. Have you asked him about that?"     "No. I've had no reason to do so." She gave me the raised eyebrow she'd learned from Linda and added, "Until now."     I nodded. "Well, before you do, remember the first few months he was with us, Steph; before he'd learned to communicate effectively with you and Elkor. Remember the times he woke up screaming on full alert or whined in his sleep and made sucking motions, then moped around all day. He was very likely dreaming about his mother and what happened to her in that dumpster. And possibly about the rat that had him trapped inside that bag when I found him."     Looking at Tiger, I said, "Kittens aren't like human babies, Steph. They don't take four or five years to become minimally functional. Once their eyes are open, they're fully aware and soaking up the world around them, good or bad."     I reached to pat Tiger and said, "Pet him and tell him that his mother would have been very proud of him today."     Steph gazed at me for a moment before she complied. Tiger turned to look at her, then at me. I nodded. Tiger said something, then stepped down to curl up in Steph's lap.     Looking at me, Steph said, "He said 'I know. My mother was strong, too'. I think he used the term 'strong' because he didn't have another term for what he wanted to say."     "Try giving him definitions of 'fierce' and 'loyal'. Those would probably fit what he had in mind."     She did so and Tiger seemed to brighten as he looked at us. I nodded again and smiled as I reached to pat him.     I said, "Your Mom was like that and so are you, you little furry Klingon."     Steph translated. Tiger beamed up at us from her lap.     "I left out the 'little furry Klingon' part," said Steph. Chapter Nineteen     We began a barely subsonic descent toward the Carrington complex to avoid popping windows and scaring people and farm animals. Lights moving through the gathering darkness below caught my attention. Two cop cars were chasing another vehicle south between towns.     "Where are we, Steph, and what's going on down there?"     "The town just north of us is Melville, North Dakota, Ed. The police are chasing three men suspected of robbing a convenience store in Edmunds."     "They look as if they're more than a mile behind the baddies."     "They were ordered not to continue close pursuit. The suspects caused two accidents as they left Edmunds. A helicopter has been requested."     "They sound like fairly guilty 'suspects', don't they? Can you tap the police frequencies?"     "Yes, but for what purpose, Ed?"     "Try it and see."     The cops' radio chatter became audible. Two guys had gone into the store while one had waited in their stolen car. They'd fired a couple of shots inside the store, but hadn't hurt anyone until they'd reached the highway, where they'd sideswiped a couple of cars while passing them and caused one to run off the road.     I said, "Drop to two thousand feet and target the bad guys' engine, Steph. What can you use to knock it out?"     "This is not an action in our own defense, Ed."     "I never said it was, did I? Just target their engine and kill it before they hurt anyone else on the road tonight."     "Ed, the car is stolen. It wouldn't be right to damage it unnecessarily. I'd prefer to disable its electrical system."     "Gimme some credit, here, Steph. I really didn't think you'd slag the engine. Just turn off their car, will you, please?"     A bright white beam lanced downward to impact the car's hood well to the rear of the center and the car immediately began slowing down. Even before it stopped, the doors opened and two men leaped out. They jumped fences on either side of the road and began running across the fields.     Steph turned off her beam and asked, "Shall I stun them, Ed?"     "Nah. No fun in that. Put spotlights on the baddies, Steph. Let them run until they realize they can't hide. Only stun 'em if they try to shoot at the cops."     She did as directed. Instead of bright lights lancing downward, she used bright balls of light that enveloped each man. I noted a smile on her face as the two baddies tried to evade the lightballs. Good. She was enjoying herself. The cop cars were approaching fast. I spoke to them as Steph entertained herself.     "Hello to the cops chasing the bad guys."     Somebody's "What the hell..?" let me know they heard me.     "Hi, guys," I said, "My ladyfriend turned off the bad guys' engine. The car's just ahead of you and she's got -- umm... call them spotlights -- on two of the bad guys who jumped out and ran. One's still in the car."     "What? Who's this? What are you doing on a police frequency?"     "Well, we're talking to you about catching crooks, unless you'd rather we just let them keep running."     "Uh, no! No, don't do that. Who are you? Identify yourself, please."     "Sorry, we can't do that. Get those guys and we'll be on our way."     The two cop cars came to a stop behind and beside the stolen car and two of the cops took into custody the guy who hadn't run. Two other cops hopped fences and went after the runners.     After they had the first guy in cuffs, one of the cops continued pushing for our identification. I handed communications over to Steph. The next time the cop requested ID, she answered him.     In sultry, Jessica Rabbit tones, she said, "I'm sorry, but we think it best to remain anonymous."     "Damn," said one cop. "You hear that, Billings? What a voice!"     "She's faking Kathleen Turner, Felton. Don't you know that?"     "Yeah, Billings, I do know that, and she's doing a damn good job of it, too."     Billings asked, "Anonymous helper, where are you?"     Steph looked at me questioningly. I gave her a 'sure, why not?' shrug.     Steph said, "Precisely two thousand feet above you. Would you like to see us?"     "Yes, ma'am. We very much would like to see you."     Steph lit up the canopy with an excellent imitation of a squid's brightly fluctuating territorial display for some ten seconds, then turned it off.     For long moments, there was nothing on the radio, then Felton clicked on and said, "Jee-zus! Did you see that, Billings? It's a gaw-dam UFO!"     "Nah. It's one of those things out of Carrington. Bet anything on it. Are you back at the car yet?"     "Almost there. You?"     "A hunnerd yards to go, easy. This one musta been a damn track star before he got into ripping off stores."     Steph giggled and grinned at me.     "I haven't been called a UFO before."     "Or one of those things out of Carrington, either, as I recall. Well, at least we have options. Having fun, milady?"     "Yes, I am. Are you?"     "Sure. Want to do it again?"     She laughed and said, "We seem to be out of criminals for the moment, Ed."     "Not a problem. There's never a shortage of bad guys. Maybe we ought to make you a costume and think up a fancy name. Try to think of something appropriate."     "You aren't serious, are you?"     "Sure!" I said with a grin. "Why not? You could be the 'Emerald Avenger' or the 'Green Angel' or something like that and swoop down on the forces of evil. You'd have your own fan club overnight."     She seemed unimpressed as she regarded me.     "Indeed. Let me give this some consideration."     Uh, huh. "I'll think about it" usually means a fairly quick answer, but "Let me consider things" usually means that we won't discuss it again for a few days, if ever.     "Okay. Sure. Hey, can I help you design your costume, milady?"     "IF this were ever to happen, I think I'd prefer to design my costume. I wouldn't want to be mistaken for an exotic dancer."     She gave me a wry smile and I feigned heartbreak.     "Oh, that hurts, Steph. Like a knife in my poor little heart."     Her smile widened and she said with saccharine sweetness, "Try not to bleed on the deck, please."     Once the cops had all three baddies in custody, we continued our journey.     Carrington base was ready for us. In the open area beyond the complex a truck waited. We set down long enough to let two people in biosuits transfer the canister to the truck, then were instructed to head for hangar four.     Five biosuited people stood by as we entered the overly-illuminated bay and two of them moved to close the big doors behind us once we were inside. Three of the people followed us in; two of them were armed with M-16 rifles, which meant they were with a regular guard unit, not the special teams.     As they approached the flitter, the one in the middle with a large briefcase said, "Do not step off that craft, sir. Ma'am. I repeat: Do not step off that flitter."     I tried to see the face of the woman in that biosuit, but she was still too far away.     "Why not?" I asked, "We've already been told not to leave the hangar."     "Because I ordered you not to," she said, stopping her people several yards from the flitter. "That's all you need to know at the moment."     "Well, I've got news, lady. You be nice to us or you're going to be out of here pretty quick. What's going on?"     Tiger yelled at them and hunkered in warning mode on the dashboard. Or maybe he simply stated an opinion of people in bulky yellow biosuits. Steph didn't translate.     Both rifles that had been loosely pointed in our general direction suddenly pointed directly at us, although they weren't raised and specifically aimed.     One of the biosuit guys said, "That's a cat! There's a goddamned cat with them!"     The other one said, "Hell with the cat. I wanna know what he's got in that bag."     "Clothes," I said. "I figured I might be here for a while."     Tiger yelled again and his hackles went up as his tail became a bottlebrush. Elkor spoke to him quietly, and while his fuzzing didn't quite settle, he sat down on the dash and switched his tail meaningfully.     The woman stepped slightly ahead of her armed companions -- which I thought was less than bright of her, since they held rifles -- and said, "I'm coming aboard. I want a blood sample from both of you."     Ummm... Nope. If she doesn't know that Steph isn't human, she isn't in the right information loop, and there must be a reason for that.     I said, "Stay right where you are, lady. I'm calling my boss." In a lower tone, I said, "Steph, fields up. If anyone shoots or seems likely to shoot, stun him hard. The sheet metal walls in this place won't stop rifle bullets if they miss."     "Yes, Ed."     The woman seemed to disregard my words. She continued approaching and seemed shocked that she couldn't see what stopped her cold a few feet from the flitter. She felt the solid-seeming air before her like a mime.     I tapped the console on and as soon as Linda appeared, I said, "Problem here, Fearless Leader."     "Where is here, Dragonfly?"     "Hangar four. They locked us in and now some woman wants a blood sample. From both of us, Linda. Not Tiger and me. Steph and me. She brought two armed guards with her."     Linda sighed softly. "That would probably be Dr. Mills. She's a procedure junkie and she isn't familiar with either AI's or flitters. Ask her."     "Okay, will do." Turning to face the woman on the ground, I asked, "Hey, lady, are you a procedure junkie?"     The woman seemed taken aback by the question, judging from the way she stiffened and glared up at me through the suit's faceplate.     Linda sighed and said rather sharply, "Ed, get her name, damn it!"     I grinned and said, "Oh. Yeah. Right. Sorry. Hey, lady, Linda Baines wants to know if you're Dr. Mills."     The woman frostily said, "As it happens, that's exactly who I am. Now remove that barrier. I'm coming aboard."     "Nope. Steph, how about putting Linda on a big screen?"     Linda's face appeared on a three-foot screen beside me.     "Dr. Mills," she said, "Stand down, please. If these two aren't dead sometime within the next few hours, you'll know they're clean." Chapter Twenty     I gave Linda a look of mock incredulity and said, "Well, thanks all to hell, Linda!"     "Think nothing of it," she said with a smile.     Mills said, "It's my responsibility to determine whether..."     I interrupted her. "You can't cure it, Doc, so why give us a hard time? Just leave us alone 'till morning."     One of the guards actually raised his rifle and aimed at me.     He firmly said, "I've got him, Dr. Mills." To me, he said, "You'll do whatever she says, sir, and you'll start doing it right now."     "Check your feet, Rambo."     Using my field implant, I kicked up dust in a thin line on the floor. He glanced down, saw the line approaching his boots like a sidewinder, jumped back a pace, and continued his rigid aiming at me while keeping an eye on the ground.     His voice was unsettled, but he said loudly, "Not good enough, sir. Cooperate or..."     I muttered, "He's too spooky. Stun the guards, Steph."     Linda sharply said, "Ed..!"     Both guards collapsed like rag dolls as I said an insincere, "Oops. Too late."     Mills spun at the sounds behind her, dropped her bag, and then hurried to one of the fallen men. She started to reach for a rifle that lay across one man's faceplate.     "Yeah, go for it, Doc," I said. "She'll knock you cold, too."     Mills froze.     Without turning around, she said, "I was going to move the rifle off him. That's all."     "It won't hurt him. Leave it and stand away. Steph, field those guys over by the door, please, rifles and all. The doc can have them hauled outside when she leaves."     Mills stood rigidly staring as the two guards floated toward the doors, then she turned to face us, stood straight, and stepped a pace toward us.     "Very impressive," she said, "But I'm the senior medical officer on this base, and I am not leaving without those blood samples."     "Wanna bet?"     Linda said, "Everybody just hold one. Dr. Mills, this unnecessary clash of wills has gone too far already. If you don't leave that hangar immediately, you'll be fired."     Mills looked at the screen suspiciously, then at me the same way.     She said, "If I can be fired for taking my job seriously, then so be it. And if you're really Linda Baines, you can do something to prove it. Otherwise, you're just an image on a screen -- on a flitter under his control -- and he's already demonstrated both that control and his hostility toward me."     Muttering something that didn't sound too nice, Linda said, "Just a moment while I pull up your personal key, Dr. Mills."     Mills seemed startled when her watch beeped. She automatically lifted her arm to punch the 'talk' button, then realized that her bulky biosuit prevented her from doing so. I couldn't stifle a short laugh, but Linda's demeanor remained unamused.     Looking first at Linda's image, then at me, then at Steph, Mills seemed indecisive for a moment, then her gaze again fixed on me as she spoke.     "Ms. Baines -- if that's really you, and not simply his computer calling my watch -- if these two don't have the virus, they shouldn't mind being tested. Neither should you mind if I test them."     "Jesus H. Frog," I said, "You just don't give up, do you, Mills? Steph, I'll zap her myself and save you the trouble. Just drop her with the others and we'll call for a pickup."     "Ed!" Linda said sharply. In her previous tone, she continued, "No, Ed. Either of us would be just as suspicious if we hadn't at least opened the comm link ourselves. As I recall, you once questioned whether I was real or not."     "The people at my kitchen table that day were claiming to be from a spaceship, Linda. Okay, then, if you aren't gonna let me zap her, what now?"     With a smile so small as to be almost undetectable, Linda said, "I want you to let her aboard to test Stephanie."     "Excuse the hell out of me, Fearless Leader, but why the hell didn't you just say that before and save us the hassle?"     "Just do it, please, Dragonfly."     My use of 'Fearless Leader' had asked Linda if we were capitulating to higher rank. Her use of 'Dragonfly' had told me that was not the case. Linda was up to something.     Mills regarded all of us with a very visible measure of suspicion as she retrieved her bag from where she'd dropped it and again approached the flitter.     I said, "Uh, huh. Great. Well, she isn't getting any of my blood tonight. Not Tiger's either. She can just sit back and wait for us to die like everybody else."     "Stephanie," said Linda, "Would you be so kind as to let Dr. Mills try to take a sample of your blood?"     Mills squinted at Linda's image and asked, "What do you mean 'try'?"     Stephanie smiled and sat down. "Certainly, Linda. Unlike Ed, I have no aversion to needles whatsoever."     As Mills began to approach the flitter again Tiger growled and fuzzed up a bit. I petted him and told him to relax.     To Steph I said, "Oh, that was cute, flitter girl. I don't fear needles. I fear clumsy doctors. They let their nurses and aides do all the messy stuff for years and they forget how to tap up a vein. Besides, this one's pissed at me, so you just know it'll take her five or six tries. Maybe more."     Before she stepped onto the flitter's deck, Mills gave me one of those 'I wonder how you'd look roasting on a spit' looks, mingled with a very slight grin. Tiger growled again, but remained on the dashboard.     I said, "Doc, you ought to patent that expression. Want a hand up?"     She coolly said, "I can manage, thank you, if you'll take my bag."     Swinging her oversized hardshell briefcase up to me as if it weighed nothing, she extended it a little higher than necessary. It was an obvious setup, but it was time to let her win a little. I pretended to be surprised when the bag tried to drag my arm down. It had to weigh thirty pounds or more, so not all of my surprise was pretense.     "Damn, Doc! What do you have in here? Your last patient?"     Linda chuckled as Mills stepped onto Stephie's deck and reached for her bag.     "What's the matter?" asked Mills with another small smile. "Are we perhaps a little out of shape?"     I let the bag dangle from one finger and held it at arm's length toward her.     "What do you think? I'll bet you pull that trick every chance you get."     She had to reach above her own shoulder-height to take the bag, and it dragged her arm down fast until she could get her other hand on it and hold it near her waist.     With a raised eyebrow and a very tiny smile, she said, "You're right. I do, but it doesn't work on everybody."     As she turned to face Steph, I said, "Huh. It probably keeps you looking busy treating strained ligaments between unnecessary blood tests."     Mills stiffened and turned to face me.     "Don't say any more for the moment," she said flatly. As a very deliberate afterthought, she added, "Please."     "Sure," I said. "Yeah. Gotcha. No sweat, Doc. I won't say another damned word. I'll just sit over here and watch quietly while you poke and prod my friend Stephie. Not a squeak. Nothing. Guaranteed. No..."     Mills sighed loudly and tightly said, "Shut...Up...Please," without parting her teeth.     Linda snickered and said, "Don't let him get to you, Dr. Mills."     "Too late," I said. "Check it out; she's all tense now. Bet she's got a pill for that, though. No, wait. With her, it's gonna be a shot. Yeah. She's probably really into giving shots. Bet she uses the biggest needles she can find, too."     Mills drew a breath to say something as her arm came up and her finger aimed at my chest. Before she could say whatever was on her mind, Linda spoke.     "Ed, stand down and let her work. We have her attention now. Have a beer and relax."     "Yes, miLady," I said, giving Mills a fatuous grin. "As you command, miLady."     I turned away from Mills and went to the pilot's seat, then reached into the cooler for a beer. Mills stared hard as my hand and some of my arm disappeared, then reappeared with an Ice House bottle dangling from two fingers. She heard the thump as I closed the lid on the cooler she couldn't see, too. That made her eyes narrow.     "Linda," I said, opening the beer, "May I know why we wanted her attention?"     "Hang on a few, Ed. Let her work."     I leaned over to peek around Mills at Steph and said, "Linda's being vague, Steph. Know anything about it?"     Steph also leaned a bit and smilingly said, "No, I don't, Ed, but it's been interesting so far."     "You say that about everything. Well, she wants a show, Steph." I glanced up at Mills and asked, "So when are you gonna start doing doctor-type stuff?"     Mills studied me for a moment, then with a tiny smile said, "Do let me know if you ever need an operation of any kind, won't you?" She then turned to Steph and said, "Take off your jacket and roll up your right sleeve, please."     I took a long look at Steph. Maybe it was only because I knew her so well in her many incarnations, but I just couldn't figure out why others had trouble realizing that she wasn't a real human being.     Mills set her case on a seat and opened it. Steph smilingly hung her field-generated jacket on the seat-back and rolled up her field-generated blouse sleeve as Mills brought out her test kit and prepped a syringe.     Tiger and I scooted over so we could see a little better as the syringe descended toward Steph's arm. Mills' left hand had a firm grip on the underside of Steph's elbow, and when the needle encountered absolutely no resistance, she quickly yanked her left hand away in surprise.     I laughed and said, "Don't stick yourself with that horse needle, Doc."     Mills took a moment to regroup as she seethed, staring hard at Steph, then she straightened and looked at Linda's image on the screen. Steph giggled. Linda tried to muffle her snicker.     I just grinned and sipped my beer as Mills put the cap back on the needle and put her gear away. For several moments, silence reigned until Mills snapped her case shut and straightened up.     When she started to pick up the case, Linda said, "Dr. Mills."     Mills looked at the screen. After a moment, she asked, "Yes?"     "Believe it or not, this hasn't entirely been a joke at your expense. If your request to train for work with field teams is approved, you'll very likely be working with this particular team for a while. This has been a test of sorts."     Visibly straightening even more, Mills said flatly, "If my qualifications had ever been in doubt, I would never have been employed by 3rd World."     Linda shook her head and said, "For what you've been doing, that's true, Dr. Mills. But you requested field work. For that, you'll have to be able to adapt -- often quickly -- and trust the judgment of others at times. Do you think you could trust Ed's or Stephanie's judgments about a situation?"     Glancing hard at me, Mills said, "I'm not sure that would be at all prudent."     Linda said, "Dr. Mills, I have more than one encounter, incident, or personality clash to back my faith in them. Do you think you can trust my judgment? An absolutely candid answer only, please."     After a moment, Mills said, "What you're asking for is essentially a decision based on faith, Ms. Baines."     Linda nodded. "That's right. There will be times when that's all there will be to work with, Dr. Mills. Field work isn't quite like lab work. You don't always have empirical evidence at hand. Ed, say you're badly injured and only Dr. Mills is available. Do you have any reservations about her?"     I looked at Mills and said, "Nope."     "What's wrong with you isn't within her specialty."     "She'll do her best. She'll find a way. Mills is the kind who really hates to lose." I grinned up at Mills and added, "That's just my opinion, of course. Based on faith."     Linda asked, "Steph? What do you think?"     "Her records indicate that she's superbly qualified, Linda, but I question her purpose and involvement. I am adequate for all of Ed's medical necessities."     That statement drew Steph a stark glance from Mills.     Linda said, "Dr. Mills, my spinal operation was performed by Elkor, the ship's computer at that time. Stephanie is his equal in many respects, including medicine."     Mills said, "I see. In that case, I'll second her question. Why will I be assigned to this particular team?"     "Field experience," said Linda. "You'd have no specific medical duties on missions with them. When your intel-ops training is complete, you'd join them on a number of missions, then you'd be reassigned to another team."     "My question stands," said Mills. "Why this team in particular?"     "I'll defer that question until later," said Linda. "Are you still interested in gaining field experience?"     With only the slightest hesitation, Mills said, "Yes."     "In that case, head back to your office and call me."     "What am I supposed to do with these two?"     "What could you do with them, Dr. Mills? Nothing. They're under a six-hour quarantine, as per the bureaucracy's rules concerning this particular virus. When it's over, give Ed a physical for the record and send him back to duty."     With a disapproving expression, Mills said, "Ms. Baines, you have no medical credentials and we're talking about one of the deadliest viruses ever created. I..."     Linda interrupted with, "Mills, You're aboard a flitter that can manipulate fields as well as any of your laboratory filtering devices. The lady beside you is actually the flitter computer's human-interaction persona. She is a field manifestation. Also, Ed can call up a personal protective field of his own. There is absolutely no risk of infection in that hangar, Doctor. The quarantine is only a means of assuaging the fears of others. Call me when you get to your office. Out."     Linda tapped the 'off' icon and the screen disappeared. Mills looked first at Stephanie, who smiled at her, then at me. I gave her a grin and a shrug, then sipped my beer.     "In that case, good evening to both of you," said Mills.     Steph and I watched Mills step to the edge of the deck and down to the concrete, then march to the hangar doors. She gave the door three deliberate bumps with her foot and it cautiously opened a bit, then she walked out. A few moments later the guards and their rifles were hauled out by the others in biosuits.     As soon as she was gone, I punched up Linda's screen again.     Linda instantly asked, "Well, what do you think of her?"     "Linda, Doc Mills is a charm school dropout," I said. "Why inflict her on us? What did we ever do to you, lady?"     With a small grin, Linda asked, "What the hell would you know about charm school? I want that stick out of her ass before I drop her on anybody else, Ed. We may be able to use her in the field, but she needs to learn some flexibility."     "Uh, huh. I feel so privileged, don't you know. Well, we have six quiet hours in here to think of a way to talk you out of this, right?"     She nodded. "That you do, but stick around for breakfast and then stop by my office afterward. If Mills shows up in the hangar again, try to be civil. If she joins our group, you can give her a hard time then."     I shrugged and patted Tiger. "Wonderful. Okay. Later, Fearless Leader."     Before Linda tapped off her screen, she grinningly said, "Bye, bye, Dragonfly." Chapter Twenty-One          Once Linda had signed off, I pulled my current book up on the screen and settled back to read a bit.     "Steph, if anyone but Doreen or Linda calls, I'm not in."     "Ed..."     To save her from telling me for the umpteenth time that she couldn't tell an outright lie, I said, "Yeah, I know. Okay, then tell them I'm unavailable. Or just route the comm stuff through the console so I can see who's calling."     Steph stood up and walked around me to stand by the screen.     "That I can do. But why?"     I looked Steph over from toes to hairline. She was excellent. Simply excellent. And brilliant. Steph had absorbed most of the world's knowledge and stashed it for reference. Ask her about damned near anything and she could probably come up with an answer, but about why people feel compelled do things or not to do things, she was always asking 'why?'     "Because it's late, miLady. Because I've been trying to finish this damned book throughout a week of interruptions, and because I don't feel like rehashing the mission or chatting about trivia with base ops people I barely know."     "You might begin to know them better if you chatted with them."     "In case you hadn't guessed, I'm referring to Mills, Angela, and Alexis. Give me a reason for knowing any of them better tonight in particular and maybe I'll do it."     Looking Steph over again, I said, "You're infinitely smart and supremely beautiful. You've become some kind of a goddess, ma'am."     With a wry look, she said, "Thank you, but I'm truly curious about why you isolate yourself at times when it seems likely that others will want to congratulate you. Many people very often actively seek such attention from others."     Shrugging, I said, "They need it. I don't. It irritates me."     Steph opened her mouth and I said, "If you're going to ask 'why' again, don't, please. You probably already know all the possible textbook reasons that anyone's ever listed. Just pick one that looks as if it'll cover matters and drop the subject."     Stiffening just as Selena would after hearing such a remark, Steph asked, "Would you like me to leave you alone, too, Ed?"     "No, Steph. Just find other topics."     "Are you sure I wouldn't interrupt your reading?"     "Don't worry about it. I like talking with you."     She just sat staring at me. The trouble with being an omnipresent ship's computer is that you can't feign hunger, thirst, fatigue, a need to visit the bathroom, or other duties as an excuse to break off a conversation.     Flitter operations and a conversation with me and probably the complete operation of an outfit like General Motors might possibly have required nearly five whole percent of Steph's capabilities, so her next action would have to be one of personal preference.     After a moment, Steph simply said, "Perhaps later, Ed," then vanished. Tiger sensed the tension and hopped down to the seat next to mine, then stepped across to my lap, where he settled in and looked up at me.     I patted Tiger and hit the 'next page' icon on the screen before me.     "Things are fine, Tiger," I said, patting him again.     Sometime around midnight I bookmarked my spot, called up a field 'bed', and stretched out on it. Tiger had experience with unseen fields, but he'd never become accustomed to sleeping without visible means of support. He hopped onto the field bed and walked carefully over to me, then parked on my chest like a little sphinx.     As an afterthought, I waved at the cameras that watched the hangar from their corner alcoves near the ceiling, then opaqued the flitter's canopy.     At seven Sunday morning the big doors rolled back and an un-biosuited Dr. Mills came into the hangar with two assistants, one male and one female, who carried medikits.     The noise of the doors woke me up and I looked around the flitter, but saw no Stephanie.     I stood up to stretch, then hopped off the flitter. Tiger stood at the edge of the deck and said something, then sat down. I patted him as I watched Mills approach.     "Well, good morning," said Mills, looking at Tiger. Glancing up at me, she added, "And to you, too, I guess. I thought I should drop by to see if you were still alive."     Her eyes met and followed my gaze as I looked her over. She was in her mid-thirties, maybe five-seven or eight, and looked about one-thirty or so. Brown hair and eyes.     Not excessively blessed with looks, but definitely not bad looking, either. Nice eyes and a moderately full blouse. Slightly flared calves below her skirt. She looked sturdy and carried herself in a competent, confident manner.     "You look damned good without that biosuit," I said, "If you're here to check me over, you can come with me to the bathroom and get some samples, then I'm gonna wash up and visit the mess hall."     "Where's your friend? Stephanie?"     "She's around here somewhere." Apparently to the hangar in general, I said, "Steph, Tiger can run loose in the hangar if he wants."     A disembodied Jessica Rabbit voice said, "I'll move the barrier field outside the hangar and tell him."     "Thank you, milady."     Steph made some cat noises and Tiger answered her, then he hopped to the concrete floor and walked away. Mills stared after him as Elkor's cat-golem silently appeared on the flitter deck where Tiger had been.     "Hi, Elkor," I said. "You're going with him?"     When Mills turned to see who I was talking to, she stepped back a pace in startlement and eyed Elkor's faux cat warily. Elkor regarded her silently for a moment, then answered me.     "Yes, Ed," said Elkor. "I would like to observe Tiger's reactions. He hasn't been to the Carrington complex since you found him."     I nodded. "Watch for rats. If he goes after one, are you going to stop him?"     "No. It is his nature to do such things." Without a hint of humor, he added, "It is extremely unlikely that he'll make contact with one, however."     Grinning, I said, "Uh, huh. Okay, but don't be too obvious about preventing it, okay? There's more than his hide to consider. Gotta keep his little furry pride intact, too. Your medbots would work in a cat, wouldn't they?"     "Yes, Ed. The medbots adapt to the host. But I will not allow Tiger to be harmed."     Nodding again, I said, "Elkor, I can't imagine having better friends than you and Stephie. Thanks very much for being here."     Elkor said, "You're welcome, Ed," then vanished from the flitter deck.     I turned to see Elkor reappear beside Tiger, who was nosing around a storage locker. Mills stared at the two of them for a moment, then fixed her gaze on me.     "Who or what was that?" she quietly asked.     "That was Elkor. He's kind of like Steph, but he seems to prefer wearing a cat suit when he visits."     After another long glance at Tiger and Elkor, she asked, "Was he with you on last night's mission? Why isn't he listed as one of your passengers or personnel?"     I passed on trying to explain things to her before breakfast.     "He's special personnel, so you'll have to ask Linda about him. You didn't happen to bring any coffee with you, did you?"     She shook her head. "No. I don't drink coffee, so it didn't occur to me to..."     Turning to look at her assistants, I rather abruptly said, "Yeah. Okay. How about you people? Anybody got a thermos?"     Both of them shook their heads.     "Figures," I said. "You guys probably drink some kind of fancy tea. C'mon, doc. You can get some of my vital juices and see me naked."     Her assistants chuckled. Mills glowered. As I headed for the bathrooms, everybody moved to come along, so I stopped.     "You two wait here," I said. "Doc Mills can handle things." Hearing my own words, I turned to her and added, "And I didn't mean that as a cheap innuendo, okay?"     Mills said, "These people are my assistants. I'd prefer to have them present."     I shook my head. "Just you, Doc. I have my reasons."     "I'm afraid I'll have to insist."     "Leave them here or stay here with them. Last chance."     She stood glaring at me for a moment, then took a medikit from the woman assistant and told them to wait.     When we'd put some distance between ourselves and the assistants, I said, "You may see some things that aren't for public viewing, Dr. Mills." I opened the restroom door and said, "And that's not an innuendo, either, but it's why they couldn't come with us."     She arched an irritated eyebrow at me, but said nothing. As soon as we'd entered the restrooms, I reached up and pulled my briefcase down. Her eyes widened considerably. They widened further when I let go of the case and it didn't fall to the floor. It simply vanished.     "That, for instance," I said. "And other stuff, like this: Three suit on."     I watched myself vanish in a sink mirror and noted Mills' response, a quick step back from me.     "Three suit off," I said, and reappeared. "Now that you know I wasn't just being difficult out there, give me a specimen cup so I can take a leak. Then you can draw some blood and whatever else you need to do and I can take a shower."     Without a word she opened the medikit and handed me a lidded container. I stepped into a stall and filled the container, then capped it and used my implant to field-lift it through the air to the sinks as I finished taking a leak. Mills stared at it as it wafted past her and settled on the ledge below the mirror.     "That too," I said. "I have implants for communications and manipulating field energy. They aren't supposed to become common knowledge, even here at Carrington."     Feeling vastly better after draining my bladder, I washed my hands and pulled my briefcase down again to take out my toiletry kit, coffee mug, and a small jar of instant coffee, then closed the briefcase and let it return to its usual position above my head.     After filling the cup with water, I used my implant to spot-heat the water until it was boiling. Mills watched me seemingly stare intently at the mug for a few moments, then saw the results and softly gasped.     "How did you do that? With the implants?"     "Yup. It's a trick Stephanie taught me."     I then tapped what looked like about enough coffee into the jar lid and dumped it into the water. As Mills watched intently, I used a field tendril to stir the coffee, then another tendril to cool it to an immediately drinkable temperature.     Leaning against the sink, I sipped some coffee and said, "Mmmm. Good enough. Okay. Blood test before I shower?"     Mills wordlessly opened her kit and removed a syringe with a reloadable test tube.     "I'll need to fill two of these," she said, strapping my upper arm.     "Just leave me enough to get by and let Linda know if you find anything unusual."     With an odd grinning look she asked, "Ms. Baines? Not you?"     "Linda first, then me. She'll be pissed if you don't."     She filled both tubes and capped them, then put them away as I unstrapped my arm. Taking a stethoscope out of the bag, she told me to take off my shirt.     As I did so, I asked, "Will this be a complete physical?"     Mills shook her head.     "Just a cursory," she said, setting her checksheet on the sink. "Thump and listen, blood pressure, questions."     When Mills finished thumping my chest and listening, she flashed a penlight in my eyes and watched the results. I tapped my watch's button to call Linda.     She answered, "My, aren't you up early this morning?"     "I have guests. Mills is almost finished with me," I said. "After I clean up, do you want to meet me in the mess hall? I'll buy you breakfast."     "Such a gracious offer. Can't, though. Busy. Take Dr. Mills, if you haven't already pissed her off this morning. She has some questions."     "Okay, but I'm disappointed, miLady. I only come here to see you, you know."     "Oh, I know you do, Ed. So drop by my office after breakfast and see me then."     "You got it. Mills, too?"     "Mills, too."     "What's-his-name the sailor won't be there, will he?"     "No, but he's here now and he heard that."     "Oh, good. Bye, miLady. See ya 'round, Emory."     Emory laughed and said, "Up yours, Ed."     "Bye, Ed," said Linda, then she clicked off.     Mills simply stared at me disapprovingly for a moment, then firmly zipped her bag shut without comment.     "What?" I asked.     She eyed me sharply for a moment, then said, "He's a Navy captain and she's the head of security for 3rd World Products. I think a bit more respect is due them. Beyond that, I'd very much appreciate not being called 'doc'."     I sipped my coffee as I met her irritated gaze, then said, "You mind your own damned business, lady. If you have what you came for, go do something with it."     Setting my coffee on the sink, I took off my pants, tossed them on the wall bench with my shirt, and tossed one of the towels from a sinkstand at the rack by the showers. It draped over a hook well enough, so I picked up my coffee and took another long sip before heading toward the showers.     Mills stood glaring at me for another moment, then said, "You must know that as a doctor I've often seen naked men before, so if you're trying to shock me, you've failed. Do you always go out of your way to put people off?"     Tuning the water to a pleasantly warm temperature, I grinned at her as I said, "Nope. Not me. I'm usually a poster boy for excellent manners and genteel dignity. You're getting special treatment this morning."     She came to the shower stall opening and looked me over fairly thoroughly, then asked, "What do you weigh; about one-eighty?"     "Good guess. One seventy eight the last time anyone weighed me. I'm told that's acceptable for someone six-two and fifty-two."     "It is. When was that?" She made a note on her chart. "When you were weighed, I mean?     "About a month ago. My last flight physical."     "Any fluctuations of more than ten pounds before or after that time? During the last year or so?"     "Nope. You realize that you're an attractive woman, don't you, Mills? And that standing there staring at me intently while I shower is having an effect on me?"     She glanced down and in a flat tone, she said, "How nice that some things still work for a man of your age. Any recent illnesses? Injuries?"     It was standing stiffly ahead of me, so I turned to point it at her as I said, "Nope. All systems seem to function perfectly, ma'am."     Mills pointedly ignored my protrusion as she quickly read aloud a list of possible symptoms and ailments.     When she looked up from her chart, I said, "Nope, none of those things, either, and all that info is already on file, so why did you bother to ask?"     After briefly regarding the object pointing at her, she looked up, gave me a saccharine smile, and asked, "How about sexually transmitted diseases?"     "Nope. But you don't have to take my word for anything. You took my blood samples, remember?"     She nodded and said, "So I did," then went back to the medikit and put the chart away. "I'll be in my office," she said, then she marched toward the restroom door.     "Hey, Doc," I said.     When she stopped and turned to irritatedly look back at me, I pointed down and said, "Just take it as a compliment. You're pretty cute for a doctor."     She gave me a droll look and a shake of her head and left the restroom. Chapter Twenty-Two     A few minutes later I used my implant to call Steph as I shaved.     "Steph, Mills is still out there with you, isn't she?"     It was more of a statement than a question. Steph answered without appearing.     "Yes, she is, Ed. We've been talking aboard the flitter. I have the canopy field up, so you couldn't have seen or heard us. What made you think she was still here?"     "It seemed likely that she'd give the samples to her friends and stick around to chat with you. Where's Tiger?"     "He's exploring a storeroom that he says seems familiar to him."     "Maybe he was there as a kitten. Let him know these hangars all look pretty much alike, though. He was found near hangar two. If he wants, we can go over there later."     "I'll tell him, Ed."     "Thanks. Ask Mills to come to breakfast with us if she really doesn't have anything better to do. No, better yet, patch me through to her watch, please."     A moment later Mills answered, "Yes?"     "Mills, what's your first name?"     She paused, then said, "Karen."     "Well, Karen, how about coming to breakfast with us?"     "Uh, well, I..."     "Oh, hell. Just say yes, unless you really have something important to do between now and the time we're supposed to meet in Linda's office."     After another pause, she said, "All right."     "See you in a few, then. That seat reclines, by the way. They all do."     "How did you know I was aboard the flitter?"     "More magic," I said, "Be out in a few minutes."     I clicked off and finished shaving, then finished my coffee and rinsed and dried my mug before stashing it in my briefcase and leaving the bathroom.     Keying my implant, I said, "Elkor, Tiger can come to breakfast with us if you'll put a bubble around his platform. No loose fur in the mess hall, you know?"     "Ed," said Elkor, "There are regulations against animals in food service areas."     "With a field bubble around the platform, he won't exactly be in the mess hall, Elkor. He'll be in his own little isolated world, and I can share my bacon with him."     "May I ask why we'll be doing this, Ed?"     "Sure. I just feel contrary this morning, Elkor. Mills is going to breakfast with us. I want her to start getting used to our eccentricities."     Steph said, "We might not have so many eccentricities if you didn't invent them."     "Steph," I said, "You're absolutely right."     Some yards from the flitter I said, "Steph, I'd like you to come to breakfast with us, too. This will be a small show for Mills."     "A show of what, Ed?"     "Us. Our version of daily normalcy. Real cats, fake cats, computer-generated people, and all that. Will you come with us, please, milady?"     Steph rose from her seat on the flitter as she said, "Yes," through my implant.     Tiger floated out of one of the storerooms on Elkor's platform and drifted next to me as I neared the flitter. I patted him and stepped aboard the flitter, then Steph headed us out of the hangar and toward the main building. Once all of us had debarked and were past the lobby security booth, I set a march pace through the wide corridors.     Hallway traffic was light enough that walking side-by-side was no problem, so with Steph on my right, Mills on my left, and Tiger floating slightly ahead of me at about waist height, we hupped our way to the mess hall at a march.     Steph matched my step and stride without comment and Mills soon got the hang of things, although she asked why we were marching.     "For effect," I said. "Watch how people react to us."     Some people stepped to one side when they saw us coming and others simply stopped to watch the three marching people and the floating cat go by.     "I see," said Mills. "But why..?"     "Because everybody else is just ambling along, Mills."     A screen popped into being and floated between Tiger and me.     "Ed," said Linda, "You're on my camera two. What's up?"     "Nothing, miLady. We're just on our way to breakfast."     "Like that?"     "Like what?"     "Like a damned parade, that's what."     We neared the mess hall doorway as I said, "Guess so. Anything else? Join us for coffee after all?"     "Still can't get loose. Later." She clicked off.     Mills almost broke stride at the doorway when Tiger continued to precede us, then she elected to keep quiet about the cat in the mess hall. Mills and I grabbed trays and utensils and joined the rather sparse late-comer serving line.     "Elkor," I said, "Would you find us a table and park Tiger over one of the chairs?"     "Yes, Ed."     The cat-platform floated toward an empty table.     Steph said, "I'll go with them," then vanished.     One of the chairs pulled away from that table and Steph reappeared in the chair. A guy at a nearby table seemed to choke softly as he stared at her. Steph gave him a mildly questioning sort of look and he subsided quickly.     Mills settled for a soft drink and a couple of donuts. I loaded my plate, adding a few strips of bacon for Tiger, and we headed for the table. We'd just sat down when a guy in attendant's whites came to the table and told us that animals weren't allowed in the mess hall.     "He's in a field bubble," I said. "Nothing gets out of it."     "A what? Look, I don't care..."     I held up a forkful of fried egg to interrupt him and asked, "Why not just let us eat and run instead of making a big fuss about nothing?"     "It's not nothin', mister. That cat's a health hazard."     "Not while he's inside that field bubble. See if you can touch him."     "That's not the point..."     "It is if you're calling him a health hazard."     I broke up two strips of bacon and put the little pile on the platform. The guy immediately reached to remove the pile and stubbed his fingers hard on the platform's field.     Tiger's tail twitched the way it usually does when he finds something amusing, then he ignored the guy and started eating his bacon.     The guy said, "I'm getting this damned thing out of here," and reached to grasp the platform, but he couldn't quite reach it due to Elkor's field. He groped around the field, then tried pushing against it.     Forking up some more egg, I watched the guy try to push the platform. It didn't move so much as an inch, even when he put his shoulder to it. Tiger kept an ear aimed at the guy, but he didn't look up from eating his bacon.     When I looked at Mills, she was watching the guy heave at the platform. I waved a hand in front of her face and pointed at her food. With an odd look at me she picked up her fork, but then her eyes returned to the guy's efforts to move Tiger.     He eventually stood back to try another tack and faced us.     "Okay," he said, "So it doesn't move unless you do. Fine. I want all of you out of here. Now."     I shook my head.     "Nope. I just got out of an overnight virus quarantine and I'm hungry."     "Quarantine?" The guy squinted slightly at me and asked, "Virus?"     Mills said, "Yes. He retrieved an Earth First virus canister yesterday evening. We kept him under observation overnight."     Reading her department from her nametag, the guy took a step back from the table. From me in particular, I suppose.     "There's absolutely no danger," said Mills. "If there were, he wouldn't be here."     "Yeah, right," the guy agreed quickly as he took another step away from us.     He gave me a hard, examining look, then turned and headed back to the serving area without further comment.     Mills chuckled and said, "I think I'm hurt. He didn't believe me."     I pointed my fork at her plate.     "Does that mean you've lost your appetite? May I have your other donut?"     Her left hand flashed to hover over her donut as she said, "No. May I ask why you felt it necessary to bring your cat to the mess hall?"     "Tiger," I said. "His name's Tiger."     She sighed. "Yes. Of course. Tiger. Why?"     I shrugged and sipped coffee.     "Karen, sometimes I do things just to see what will happen."     "You knew what would happen. You knew someone would say something. My question stands."     Shrugging again, I said, "For practice, then."     "What were you practicing?"     "Getting away with things, I guess. Showing off for the new girl and like that."     That got me a sharp look.     "Why?" asked Mills.     I gave her a fatuous grin and asked, "Why not? Like I said in the shower, the new girl's kinda cute, even if she's been kind of stuffy so far."     Her gaze narrowed slightly. "I could still construe that as a form of sexual harassment, you know."     Shrugging, I said, "You watched it come up and you stuck around anyway, so you can construe it as a compliment or you can go to hell, doc, whichever you prefer. If you don't have a sense of humor you don't belong on my ship."     Her eyes got wide in mock surprise. "Your ship? Oh, really? Just how did you ever get the idea that one of 3rd World's flitters is your ship?"     I grinned and peeked around Mills at Steph.     "You want to tell her, miLady Stephanie?"     When Mills turned, Steph said flatly, "His flitter doesn't belong to 3rd World, Dr. Mills. It belongs to him."     Mills stared at Steph in disbelief for a moment, then looked back at me. "Oh, you've got to be kidding... Do you really expect me to believe that?"     Forking up the last of my eggs, I said, "I don't really much give a damn if you do or don't, but you can ask Linda about it if you want."     After another moment of staring, Mills used her fork to cut a small piece of donut and said, "Oh, I'll do that. Count on it. Accepting that improbability as truth for a moment, you're saying that if I want to get along with you, I'll have to put up with..."     I turned to face her again.     "No, Mills. I'm speaking strictly from my point of view, and that is that I'll have to put up with you. I'll have to ignore your rather anal-retentive nature in order to get along with you for a while. Why don't we finish our breakfasts quietly and then go see Linda?"     She gave me a sidelong glower, but said nothing more as she cut her donut. Chapter Twenty-Three     Steph asked, "May I be excused, Ed?"     "Sure, Steph. See you in Linda's office?"     She nodded, then vanished.     Karen Mills extended a tentative hand into the space where Steph had been, then pulled it back and sat quietly regarding the empty space for a moment.     "That's hard to get used to," said Mills.     "What is? Her popping in and out?"     "No. That's a flitter computer. Why did you ask it whether it will be there?"     "Keep calling her 'it' and I'll start calling you 'doc' again. I know Steph would at least monitor the meeting, but I'd like her there... in person... so to speak."     "In person. That would mean the field construct, obviously. But that didn't answer my question, which was why you asked it instead of telling it to attend. You seem to be one of those people who anthropomorphize inanimate objects."     I gave Mills a fisheye look and asked, "Steph didn't seem animate enough to you, doc?"     Her lips tightened at the term 'doc', but shaking her head, Mills said, "Computers aren't people, as much as you seem to want to believe otherwise. A rather elaborate feminine illusion and a woman's name doesn't change that. Your Stephanie is still just a ship's computer."     "And we're just sacks of meat with organic computers on top, doc. You're a nice-looking sack of meat, I'll grant you, but hardly superior to Steph. She thinks and feels and has more conscience than me about a lot of things. By every yardstick I've ever encountered, she qualifies for humanity better than most people I've known."     Mills seemed about to say something, then visibly changed her mind and said, "On matters such as these, we come down to opinions alone."     "Yeah, well, my opinion is based in experience with Steph. Yours isn't, so give it to someone else."     After disposing of our trays and utensils we headed for Linda's office, ambling along with Tiger again leading the way.     "Why aren't we marching this time?" asked Mills.     "Gotta keep 'em guessing," I said.     Mills gave me a sharp glance, but said nothing more. Steph reappeared beside me as we entered Linda's office, but offered no explanation of why she'd been absent. Linda seated us by her desk and closed the door, then said that Tiger didn't have to stay on the platform.     Elkor's fake cat appeared on a corner of Linda's desk once Tiger had stepped off the platform. Linda scratched Tiger's chin, then Tiger sprawled to occupy her desk blotter as Linda continued her attentions to him.     Mills examined Elkor's golem-cat intently for a moment, then reached to touch it. Elkor's feline face turned to meet hers and he gazed at her exactly as a cat might.     "This fur looks real," muttered Mills. "Feels real."     "Thank you," said Elkor.     His words made Mills jerk her hand back. Linda smiled slightly.     "The reason you're all here," said Linda, "Has to do with training. Since the Earth First warehouse incident, Dr. Mills has expressed a desire to know more about how field teams operate. She thinks that many lives might have been saved if only we could have gotten our people in safely to contain matters."     I asked, "She's seen the recordings?"     Mills said, "I've seen them."     Turning to face her, I asked, "Did you see what happened to the guys in biosuits? Did you happen to notice the number of armed people in that building? All the shooting?"     "They could have been disarmed or disabled. Stun fields or gas could have been used to quell the disturbance."     I turned back to Linda and said, "She's calling what happened in that warehouse a disturbance."     "So I heard," said Linda.     "Mills," I said, "By the time there was a 'disturbance', the virus was out of the can and running loose in the building."     She snapped back, "Let's not forget the root cause of the disturbance, shall we? If you hadn't chilled that container, the incident wouldn't have happened."     "I just love iffy stuff. Okay, doc. If she'd simply put the canister aside and labeled it defective, we might have had reason to believe there were some innocents in that building. She didn't. She panicked and so did everybody else. Every damned one of them knew what they were putting in those canisters, and that stuff killed them all. My feelings about that? Fuck 'em. Too bad some of them weren't there at the time, 'cause now we have to hunt them down."     Mills puffed herself up a bit and said, "That's exactly what I would have expected from you."     "Well, then, I'm damned glad I didn't disappoint you, doc."     Linda cleared her throat gently to end the exchange.     "Linda," I said, not taking my eyes off Mills, "Whatever you have in mind, I'd rather not work with Mills. Let her train with one of the usual groups."     "What reason shall I record for posterity?"     "Her attitudes about Steph and me really suck, for one thing."     "The word 'incompatibilities' would look better, I think. You're sure that you can't stand each other for a little while?"     With a mildly exasperated sigh, I said, "Well, no, I'm not absolutely sure, Linda, but I don't much care, either. Let her drill with someone else."     Linda looked at Mills.     "Dr. Mills, do you feel the same way?"     Mills coughed a soft laugh, then firmly said, "Oh, yes. Absolutely."     Picking a folder from the small pile on her desk, Linda called her secretary in and handed it to her. As the folder changed hands, I saw the name 'Mills' on the tab.     "File this, Anna," said Linda. "Mills' request for field training is denied at this time. She may reapply in three months if she can find a group leader to sponsor the effort."     Mills was on her feet in an instant, sharply asking, "What?! Why three months?"     Linda looked at Mills and said, "Wait a moment, Anna. Dr. Mills, this isn't a personal decision on my part. I asked all four team commanders to consider you for training during an opening in the next cycle. Each of them suggested rather firmly that I ask one of the others to take you. Ed was your last hope for this quarter."     A blush crept into Mills' complexion, but whether it was from anger or embarrassment I couldn't tell. I looked at Steph, glancing at Linda questioningly as I put a finger on my wrist-pulse to indicate that I wanted readings.     Through my implant, Steph said, "Readings indicate that Linda's telling the truth, Ed." I nodded receipt of the info.     "Wait, please," said Mills. "You have five teams, not four."     Linda shook her head. "Group One isn't a training group, Dr. Mills. If you were volunteering for a critical slot instead of just additional training and experience I could override the others, but as things are I can't simply drop you on a team without risking having to explain the decision in a formal hearing. I'm sorry, but I've done all I can to facilitate your request for this training cycle."     Mills looked stricken and a bit stunned as she settled back into her chair. When her eyes met mine, Mills seemed on the verge of tears, and I suddenly wondered why flitter ops were so damned important to her. I turned to look at Linda.     "Linda," I said, "Flitter ops only, right? No forty-seven bits of equipment, no weapons, no paramilitary protocols, no gig lines on uniforms, and all that?"     Shrugging, Linda said, "Right. She can pick up the rest of it elsewhere. She'd have to, anyway, for all you know about wearing uniforms these days."     "Okay, then. She can have the guest bedroom for a week."     Mills looked startled. "A what? A guest bedroom? You mean at your house?"     "Yeah," I said. "You'll come back certified to fly a flitter, if nothing else."     She glanced at Linda, who continued petting Tiger as she met Mills' gaze, then Mills turned back to me.     "Just what, exactly, do you mean by 'if nothing else'?"     I looked at Mills and sighed. "Weren't you listening when I mentioned equipment, uniforms, and protocols? I don't wear the uniforms and don't haul equipment and I don't like to salute people I don't know."     Linda snickered softly. Mills glanced at her, then returned her gaze to me.     Fielding a cup from the countertop rack to the coffee pot and sending a separate field tendril to push the spout lever down, I said, "Fact is, I'd let Steph handle most of your training if she doesn't mind. She seems to have a lot more patience than me. Don't worry, doc, it'll only take a week or so and you won't be expected to sleep with me or wear lingerie around the house."     Mills bridled and glaringly sat up straight at my last words. Linda coughed softly and scuffled Tiger's chin. Mills glanced at Steph, then at me. When the cup was full I fielded it to the desk and dropped the tip of a cooling field into it to make it drinkable immediately, then sipped it.     Linda turned to Mills and asked, "Well, Dr. Mills? It's the best offer on the table."     "It appears to be the only offer on the table. You'd accept his training as valid?"     With a grin, Linda said, "Ed is a barnstormer, Dr. Mills. So is Stephie, I think. She's absorbed a lot of his personality traits. I've been with them at a thousand miles an hour, ten feet off the deck at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. If he and Steph teach you to fly a flitter, you'll learn things that aren't in the official manual."     Mills studied me rather intently for a good five seconds before she turned to Linda and said, "I guess I have no choice, then. I don't want to wait three more months."     I grinningly peeked around her at Steph and stage-whispered, "Got enough barf bags aboard?"     "I don't get airsick," said Mills in a flat tone.     "If you don't mind, I'll take that as a challenge," said Steph, surprising all of us.     To me, Steph said, "I'll be around, of course," and then she vanished, leaving everyone in the room staring at the space where she'd been.     Linda gave me an arched eyebrow and a questioning gaze. I gave her a 'damned if I know' look in return.     "Well, damn," I said, "That should have been animate enough even for you, Mills. Do you still think I'm anthropomorphizing her?"     Mills gave me a sharp look, but said nothing.     Linda fixed a gaze on me as if wondering what I might have said or done to Steph, then she handed Mills' folder to the secretary and faced me.     "I'd really prefer that she be trained here, Ed. I could probably find you a few days of room and board someplace."     I grinned as I said, "It would be a real hardship, what with my busy retirement schedule and all... But I guess Florida could manage without me for a few days."     "Okay, then. This issue has eaten enough of my only day off this week. Ed, you have Dr. Mills through close of business Wednesday. Thursday she'll make a check flight with Angela Horn, so don't go easy on her out on the ranges. That's it. Everybody out. I'm going home now."     When Linda and I stood up, Mills seemed slightly confused, but also got to her feet. Linda patted Tiger, then took her purse out of a drawer and headed for the office door.     She held the door open as Tiger mounted Elkor's platform and we all exited the office, pulled the door shut behind us and tapped a code to activate the lock, then turned and gave me a quick, grinning kiss on the cheek. Mills seemed somewhat shocked at that.     "Thanks," whispered Linda, "We'll talk later."     I nodded. Linda then gave Mills a handshake and a curt nod and headed down the hallway toward the main entrance, perhaps fifty paces distant.     A look in that direction told me why Linda had kissed me. Navy Captain Emory Wallace stood by the guard desk near the doors. I gave him a wave, then Tiger and I headed in the opposite direction, toward the building's medical labs.     Mills had turned to see why I'd waved. When she turned back she had to hurry a bit to catch up with me.     As she fell in step with me she asked, "Where are we going now?"     "Past your lab and out the side door to the housing office. I have to see about a room for a few days."     A few steps later she cleared her throat and said, "Apparently I'm not in possession of all the facts about you and Ms. Baines, Mr..."     "The facts are personal," I interrupted her. "Just call me Ed. You'll be Karen."     "I'm not sure that level of familiarity is a good idea."     With a glance at her, I said, "I am, and it isn't too late to cancel this deal. You can be 'doc' Mills again anytime you want."     Mills stopped walking and gazed hard at me. I stopped walking and gazed back.     "Blackmail?" she asked.     "Or maybe extortion. I was never too clear on the difference. Yes or no?"     "Will it be like this with every little thing?"     "Yup. Some of the big things, too."     "May I ask why you've assumed this rather dictatorial attitude?"     Shrugging, I said, "Sure, Karen. Linda wants to help you for some reason or she wouldn't have brought me into this at all. So I'll do it for her. I'm your last ditch for flight school for the time being, but you really bug me. That's why this will be as quick and friendly as possible or I just plain won't bother with you. If you can't lose the attitude for a few days, you can damned well stay grounded."     I didn't wait to see if she'd huff and glare; when I finished speaking I turned and continued walking toward the labs. After a moment Mills wordlessly caught up with me.     Glancing at her, I asked, "So? Are you Karen or Doc Mills?"     Without looking at me, Mills said tightly, "Karen. For the time being."     Nodding, I asked, "Steph, may we have a field pad for Karen? She's going to be learning flitter flight parameters this morning."     Directly in front of us a field about three feet square appeared. I touched a corner and pushed it inward until the screen was the approximate width of Karen's shoulders, then pushed it more directly in front of her.     "Thanks, Steph. You're a magical wonder, as usual. Let Karen call that screen up at will during her time with us, please. Restrict her information access to training only, please."     Mills gave me a sharp glance and seemed about to say something, then her mouth closed and she simply looked at me for a moment as we walked.     "What?" I asked.     "Do you really think I'm not cleared to know whatever you know?"     I grinned. "Doesn't matter a damn to me what your clearance is, Karen. You're here for one reason only, so that pad won't show you anything that isn't about flitters." Chapter Twenty-Four     I poked up the icons for flitter parameters as we crossed the parking lot, then turned the pad-screen over to Karen as I went in to sign up for quarters. Mills followed me into the building as she scanned an overview of specifications.     The desk clerk saw Tiger and said, "Sir, we don't allow pets."     I told him to check with Linda's office. He called a number and somebody told him to wait for a callback. Someone from Linda's office called back within moments and cleared Tiger's presence. The clerk eyed the phone oddly for a moment, shrugged, and handed me a registration form.     As I filled it out I said, "I don't want any incoming phone calls, okay? None."     "Yes, sir. I'll place a call block on 206, if you wish."     "That's what I wish. Thanks."     After signing in and receiving a key code for room 206, I headed for the building's front door. Mills seemed confused as she looked up from the vid screen.     "Don't you want to see your room?"     I shrugged. "Seen 'em. It'll be there later. Let's fly."     "Why no phone calls?"     "Linda has a comm watch. So does anyone else who might need to talk to me."     At the flitter I tapped Karen's field-screen off and indicated the control egg on the console as Tiger took his usual position on the dashboard.     "Karen, you'll take the pilot's seat from now on unless told otherwise. You'll be using this egg-shaped device to control the flitter. Steph, as soon as Karen has us in the air with reasonable control she can head us out to range six. Use the team training sessions as guidelines. Karen is allowed to operate this flitter only during training."     As an apparent afterthought, I added, "Oh, and Steph, please don't directly communicate with Karen until she's figured out on her own how to access flitter controls."     Mills turned to look at me questioningly as I sat down and poked up my book on a field-screen of my own. Her lips moved slightly in surprise as she scanned the book's title in reverse through the translucent field.     "What the hell are you doing?" she asked.     "I'm getting out of your way. Don't mind me. Just drop your butt in the pilot's seat and start learning, ma'am."     With a sigh of exasperation, Mills said, "I was under the impression that you'd be instructing me to some extent."     I looked up at Mills and said, "I am instructing you, Karen. I'm instructing you to give some thought to how best to get us underway."     Mills sweepingly gestured at the rather bare-looking console and the control egg atop it.     Her voice rose an octave as she said, "You haven't even showed me how to start this thing!"     "You don't have to start it. It's never off. You're smart, ma'am. You'll figure things out eventually. I'd like to be at the range before noon if that's at all possible, though."     After a moment of glaring at me, Mills turned sharply away and went to sit in the pilot's seat. She stared at the egg for a moment, then tried to pick it up. It wouldn't budge, of course.     She looked around the egg and the console fruitlessly for some sort of release mechanism, then glanced at me angrily and seemed almost ready to say something.     I looked up with as much innocence as I could muster. Mills shut her mouth and resumed her study of the egg and console with determination.     Through my implant, Steph asked, "Why didn't you tell her to simply talk to me, Ed?"     Rather than say anything that might give Mills any sort of hint, I poked up a keyboard on my pad and typed, "She's all tensed up and anticipating trouble from us. From me, in particular. When she figures out that all she has to do is ask you nicely to help her, she'll aim any residual attitudes at me."     "That's supposed to somehow be a good thing?"     "Sure. She's an alpha-type. A control freak. People like Mills manufacture contention when it doesn't occur spontaneously. I'll be the foil and you'll be the enabler. She'll bust through training in zip time with high scores, if only to poke at me a bit. One thing, though; make her be polite and respectful to you at all times. If she tries to issue outright commands or treats you like a desktop computer, ignore her."     Aloud, I said, "Uhm, excuse me, Dr. Mills, ma'am... I really hate to prod, but, well, we... uhm... We don't seem to be moving yet."     Mills stiffened in her seat and said, "If you aren't going to help me, keep quiet."     "Oh, yes, ma'am, ma'am! Quiet it is. Sorry to interrupt your train of thought, there. I'll just sit here and read until we get to the range. Or until the sun goes down, should it come to that. I'll be the soul of patience, ma'am. Time doesn't matter to me, you know; I'm semi-retired. I have a book and something to drink, so I'm all set. I'll just..."     Quickly swiveling her seat and facing me with a glower, Mills said, "I'm so glad that you're enjoying yourself at my expense. Perhaps I'll be able to share your enjoyment later, when I report how lightly you take your accepted responsibilities..."     I interrupted her with a smile and a dismissive wave.     "It's all being recorded. She'll get a copy of everything. You should only be thinking about how to make this flitter move, Karen. Preferably sometime today."     Mills simply glared at me for a moment, then turned to face the console.     "Computer," she said rather forcefully.     When Stephie didn't respond and nothing else happened, she said, "Computer, I know you can hear me. Answer me."     Silence answered her summons.     I said, "Try being nicer to your instructor, Karen. She outranks you."     Mills stiffened and snapped, "You're talking about a damned computer!"     When I said nothing for some moments, she turned angrily to face me. I tapped up the next pages of my book and sipped my coffee, then met Karen's angry gaze for another moment before speaking quietly.     "No, not exactly, Karen. I'm talking about Stephanie Montgomery, your flitter instructor. She's an AI who chose her own name, who chooses the way she presents herself to the world, and who requires that people relate to her as an individual in a reasonably respectful manner."     Sharpening my voice a bit, I quietly added, "Beyond that, she's my friend and I back her one hundred percent, so you can either be nice to her or you can get the hell off my flitter."     Incredulity at my attitude flooded Karen's face for a moment, but her face recomposed as she apparently decided to play along.     In a saccharin tone she said, "All right, then. In the interests of getting through this as quickly and painlessly as possible... Stephanie, will you please cooperate with me?"     Steph appeared in her usual shades-of-green business attire. She sat down in the seat next to Mills and said, "Please pick up the control egg, Dr. Mills."     Looking as if she thought we were playing a joke on her, Mills said, "I already tried that. It wouldn't..."     Without looking up, I said, "Just do as you're told, Karen. That's how instruction works."     Again Steph said, "Please pick up the control egg, Dr. Mills."     With only a moment's hesitation, Mills did so, trying not to show her surprise when the egg lifted almost effortlessly from the console. Steph then described how the egg would field-bond to Karen's hand and how to use it to guide the flitter.     A few minutes later Karen was rather jerkily guiding the flitter around in circles and figure-eights. After some further practice in the confines of the parking lot, she aimed us in a westerly direction and we accelerated toward range six.     Maybe half an hour went by before Tiger hopped down from his perch and came to sit in the seat beside mine. He said something I recognized as having to do with food, so I shoved my field-screen book aside and patted him.     "Okay, Tiger," I said, "Stand by one."     Once I'd taken his dishes and food from the console, I set them to one side and put some food in one of them, then used my field implant to gather moisture from the air until Tiger's water dish was about one-third full. He watched until I finished, then said something that I recognized as a thank-you and began to drink.     Karen had noticed my doings, but when water began coalescing and dribbling into the dish from empty space about six inches above it, her eyes opened a bit wider.     "How..?" she asked haltingly, then, "How are you doing that?"     Patting Tiger, I said, "Just another nifty field trick Steph taught me. There's plenty of moisture in the air, even out here in the middle of North Dakota. I'm just bringing some of it together for Tiger."     As I put the food bag back in the console Karen's gaze seemed fixed on the water dish. When I stood up I used a field tendril to bump the control egg in her hand, which made the flitter jink slightly to the left. Karen squeaked and straightened our course, then glanced up at me narrowly.     On my way back to my seat I said, "Pilots should pay attention to their piloting, you know."     After eating a bit, Tiger curled up on the seat beside mine and sounded off in a conversational tone. Steph responded in kind as Karen stared at her, then she told me through my implant that Tiger had wanted to know why Dr. Mills was in the pilot's seat.     Tiger seemed to mull her response for a moment, then looked at me.     I patted him and said, "Things are fine, Tiger. Steph, ask him if he'd like to go home, please. Tell him we'll likely be here a few days, too."     Steph again made some cat noises and again Karen stared at her. Tiger seemed to give the matter some thought before he answered.     "Tiger said he might want to go home later, Ed."     I nodded and ruffled Tiger's chin. "Okay."     Mills turned to look at Tiger and me and seemed about to say something, then she shut her eyes and shook her head slightly as she turned to the front again.     When she muttered something softly, I asked, "Problem, Karen?"     "Oh, hell no," she said tersely. "Not at all. I'm being taught flitter operations by a computer that belongs to an obstreperous autocrat with a talking cat, that's all. Nothing's wrong, though."     Pulling my book-screen back in front of me, I said, "Good. Carry on, then."     It really doesn't take long to get a feel for the manual control system, and during routine flight only voice commands are necessary, so Karen had gained a basic understanding of flitter-flying and I'd nearly finished my book before lunchtime.     "It's noon," said Karen, turning to look at me, "I'm taking us back to the base."     Nodding, I said, "Eat light. You'll be doing some special flying this afternoon."     "I told you; I don't get airsick."     I said, "Gee, I hope you're right," and turned the page. "Eat light, anyway."     Mills faced front and headed us toward the base complex at maybe sixty miles per hour, then said, "You can drop the act, Ed."     Without looking away from my book, I responded, "Act? Be specific, Karen."     "The tough-guy act. The one you've been using since we met."     "Ah." I nodded again slightly. "That act. Stephie, have I been acting?"     Steph's field image reversed itself to look at me and she said, "You have been somewhat more difficult than usual this morning."     Mills snickered as I looked up at Steph in mock shock and hurt.     "Hey, aren't you supposed to be on my side of anything and everything? Loyal to the end, and all that? My faithful computer goddess?"     "You aren't in danger at the moment. You and Dr. Mills are having a personality clash, and I'd prefer to be left out of it."     Mills snorted a brief laugh.     I looked at Mills and said, "Tell me again how Steph is just a simple computer, then aim us at the mess hall, driver."     About four minutes later we stopped outside the main doors of the complex. Tiger stood up and said something as Mills and I rose from our seats.     Elkor's disembodied voice said, "Tiger would like to continue looking around the hangars, Ed." Popping into existence, he stood next to Tiger.     I nodded. "Thanks, Elkor. Have a good time, guys."     As Elkor and Tiger headed away toward the hangars, Mills looked after them for a moment, then again slightly shook her head and irritatedly yanked open one of the doors. Steph glanced at me and I shrugged as I held the door for her.     "She doesn't want to believe in talking cats, Steph. That, or she thinks we're playing some kind of joke on her. Don't worry about it."     Karen had chosen and marked a dining hall table by placing her purse in front of one of the chairs. Steph seated herself across from the purse and watched Karen stride to the chow line, then she gave me a rather studious look.     "Question?" I asked her.     "Not at this time," said Steph.     Mills looked at me as I approached the line and asked, "Not what at this time?"     "She didn't say," I answered.     Looking back at Steph briefly, Mills grabbed a tray and silverware.     Keying my implant, I said, "Well, ma'am, when the time comes, let me know."     With a slight nod, Steph had fixed her gaze on the wall ahead of her and seemed to enter a trance of sorts. I knew that not a breath would be taken nor a word would be spoken in that dining hall without her being aware of it, but she looked for all the world as if she'd completely zoned out.     "The time for what?" asked Mills, turning to face me.     I shook my head tersely and grabbed a tray.     "Just talking to Steph again," I said. "She's tense about something."     "Computers can't get tense."     "She can."     Mills sighed, shook her head slightly, slid her tray in front of the first of the food selections, and said, "Then maybe you're what's making her tense."     "I suppose that's possible."     Some moments later we'd loaded our trays and I sat down across from Steph because Mills moved her purse and sat down beside her. Polarization already? Or simply a desire not to sit too close to me? Some of each?     Some half a dozen bites into my hamburger-steak lunch, Mills stopped eating and gazed at me as if studying me.     "What?" I asked.     She peered thoughtfully at me for another moment before saying, "You haven't once asked me why this training is so important to me."     I pretended to think about that for a moment, then said, "Yup. I think you're right. I don't remember asking even once."     As I dug into my food without further comment, Karen sat a little straighter and continued to gaze at me.     When I looked up, she made a show of taking a sip of her drink and then asked, "Don't you want to know?"     Shrugging, I sipped my Dr Pepper and looked back at her. "It's enough that you know why you want trained, Karen. All I need to know is that Linda wants you trained."     Her gaze narrowed. "This is keeping you from going home until Wednesday. I'd think that you'd want to know why."     Shaking my head, I forked up some meat. Mills pushed her corn around for a moment, started to fork some up, then paused and began to open her mouth to say something.     "But..."     I interrupted her with, "Linda wants you trained -- now -- or your request would be in the 'someday, maybe' pile. That's enough for me, Karen. Fact is, we don't seem to get along very well, so I don't really need to know much about you." Chapter Twenty-Five     We'd nearly finished eating when Mills asked, "You don't really work for 3rd World, do you? You actually work for Linda Baines."     Wondering where she was going with it, I shrugged and said, "3rd World pays me."     Karen sipped her drink, then said, "You know what I mean, Ed. You're rather familiar with each other and you call her 'Fearless Leader'."     "Yeah, and that's our business, not yours."     After a glance at Steph, Mills said, "I was just wondering how you came to own a flitter. Did Linda arrange it for you?"     "No. I asked Elkor for a smaller version of a cargo flitter and he made me one back before they locked manufacturing up with contracts and political deals. It probably couldn't happen these days."     Taking another sip, Karen asked, "You just asked it... him... for a flitter and he gave it to you? Nobody had to approve it?"     I shrugged. "Damned if I know if anyone had to approve it. I got the flitter, so I'll be damned if I care, too. Why do you care?"     Mills gathered her utensils and stood up with her tray, then said flatly, "I guess I just wondered if you were receiving some kind of favoritism."     Matching her gaze, I said, "I've been given a lot of leeway at times, but for good reasons at those times. Don't worry, Mills. There's a leash and Linda would yank it in a flash if I really got out of line. Is that what you were trying to find out?"     After a long moment, Karen said, "No, not precisely, but thanks, anyway."     She then stood and took her tray to the bus-bins.     Steph looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I returned her look with one much like it and a small shrug, then rose to take my own tray to the bins.     "Ed," said Steph through my implant, "There aren't many reasons for Dr. Mills to ask such questions."     "No, Steph, there aren't. She may only be curious, but she may also be looking for a way to get the upper hand in something. I'd vote for the latter."     "How might she make use of such information during or after her training with us?"     "Possibly to try to pressure me into something. Or maybe Linda."     "Such as?"     "No idea. She's already got one of the best-paying jobs on base, and if she wanted a flitter, she could probably finagle her way near the head of the line. With the employee discount and her salary, she could have one in a few months."     "Seventy-eight days," said Steph. "That would seem to indicate other motivation."     "Some people like to keep aces up their sleeves on general principles, for later use. She seems like that kind of person to me. Elkor."     "Yes, Ed."     "Be wary of Dr. Mills and her questions, please. I think she may be up to something."     "Stephanie has replayed your conversation for me, Ed. I agree."     "Got any idea what's on her mind?"     "No, but she does appear to be more than casually curious about you and Linda. I will be careful when communicating with her."     "Thanks, Elkor."     I went to dump my own tray, then we returned for Karen's purse and headed for the door. Steph vanished from the chair by the table and reappeared on my right as we headed back outside for more flitter flying.     "Interesting," said Mills.     When neither Steph nor I asked what was interesting, Karen added, "It doesn't startle you at all when she just pops into being next to you, does it?"     I asked, "Is that a rhetorical question, Karen?"     "I guess it was. What's next on the agenda?"     "Maneuvering at higher speeds. You've been driving the flitter like a car instead of flying it."     Mills looked at me and said, "I've been afraid of crashing."     "Forget that. Steph told you she doesn't allow crashes. Believe it."     With a mildly sarcastic look, Mills said, "I'll try."          When we reached the flitter, I extended a hand to Stephie as she stepped aboard.     "Thank you, kind sir," said Steph with a nod.     "You're most welcome, miLady."     Mills snickered and accepted the same assistance stepping up to the deck and asked, "Why didn't she just materialize herself aboard, Ed? She has before."     "Why didn't you simply take the big step up, Karen? You have before."     I pretended to see something interesting some distance from the flitter and walked over there to pick up and study a hardball-sized rock.     "Steph, I'm going to do something dramatic. Five suit on."     I pitched the rock as hard as I could straight at Mills.     Karen shied to one side with a screech, but Steph simply stood with her hands behind her back. The rock converted to energy with the sound of a lightning strike and flashed brilliantly into a ball of superheated plasma that rose into the sky as it expanded, then darkened as it cooled and dissipated.     Even though Steph directed most of the energy upward, a rush of hot wind washed over and past me. Steph smiled and gentler, cooler gusts of wind blew most of the dust off my personal field.     "Thank you, ma'am," I said, then, "Five suit off."     Karen stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the cloud that dissipated above the flitter, then switched her angry gaze to me.     "What the hell was that for?!" she screamed as I walked back to the flitter.     "It was the difference between knowing something and believing it. You probably already knew that a non-commercial flitter's defensive fields are supposed to stop damned near anything, but now you've seen them work first hand."     As I stepped aboard, I added, "That was just a hand-sized rock. You ought to see what happens when a tank fires a round at her."     Mills stood glaring at me. As usual, it seemed to me. Oh, well.     Rather shrilly, she said, "Oh, I see! You didn't think I believed what I read? Or did you think it would be funny to scare the hell out of me?"     "Am I laughing? Doesn't matter to me what you've read, Mills. Now I know you'll have some real faith in what we tell you, and you'll need it before we're through out here. Sit down and get us moving. We're going to range six."     After a moment, Karen took the pilot's seat and reached for the control egg.     "Don't use the egg," I said.     Mills halted her reach and looked up. "What?"     "Don't use the egg. Just tell Steph where we want to go."     "She already knows where we want to go."     "You're the trainee pilot, Mills. She's waiting to hear you say it, just as if I weren't here."     With a sigh, Mills looked at Steph and said, "Computer, take us to range six."     Unseen by Mills, I shook my head. We didn't move. Mills looked up at me.     "Stephanie. Please," I said with a grin.     "What? Oh, hell." She looked at Steph and said, "Stephanie, please take us to range six."     The flitter lifted and headed for the range at a good six hundred miles an hour. Mills tensed and gripped her seat, then turned to me and said, "In an emergency, there's often little time for pleasantries."     "In an emergency, you'll probably find that the emergency has been dealt with before you realized that it existed. That's what your next phase of training is about, Karen."     When we reached the staging area for range six, I asked Steph to put up a large field screen with the range layout, then to draw a line tracing our course through it. The line passed between, over, under, and through various obstacles.     "This is a ten-acre obstacle course, Karen," I said. "We'll fly through it once at fifty so you can get a good look at it, then we'll come back here."     "Then what?" she asked. "For that matter, why is there an obstacle course for flitters? Do they need to practice?"     I shook my head. "No, they don't. But their pilots damned sure do."     Grinning at Steph, I asked, "Steph, are you ready to do some scampering for Dr. Mills?"     She grinned back at me and saluted.     "Aye, Captain. Scamper mode engaged."     "Barf bags ready?"     "Barf bags ready."     "Med team standing by?"     "Roger that."     "Excellent. All ahead grandmother speed, then."     "Grandmother speed it is, Cap."     Mills displayed some trepidation as we set forth toward a very narrow-seeming opening between range observation buildings. The space had a good six inches of clearance on both sides, but as we approached it at fifty, Karen's fingers clenched her seat rather tightly and her eyes seemed to get bigger.     "Karen," I said, "Range six was constructed based on mission probabilities. Scenario: we're to search as quickly as possible for a terrorist known to be in the area, following suggestions from the range computer as we go. We'll encounter obstacles such as trees, buildings, hills, rock formations, people on foot and in vehicles, and hostile fire. The object is to get through the course as quickly as possible while successfully nailing the terrorist."     As the nose of the flitter neared the opening, Karen tensely asked, "Don't they already know how quickly a flitter can run this course?"     "Yup. We already know the best times possible for all current course variations."     Mills sucked a breath through clenched teeth as we flashed through the opening.     "Ah... Then... What are we here to..." Her voice dropped almost to a whisper as she saw what lay ahead. "Oh, lord..."     Just down the hill, the range layout that she'd seen on the screen became visible.     "OhMyGod..!" she muttered softly.     "Wanna think about it first?" I asked. "Take a minute up here and maybe talk yourself out of it?"     Karen's angry eyes met mine as she hissed, "No!"     Nodding, I asked, "Well, then, could I make a suggestion?"     "What?" she snapped in the same hissing tone.     "Don't panic unless I do." I sat down beside her and put my feet up on the console. "It's a go, Steph. I just couldn't talk her out of it."     "Aye, Captain. Would you like a multiple view screen?"     "No, thanks, milady. This view's fine for now."     An overhanging tree branch only looked as if it would take our heads off, then a boulder only looked as if it would make contact with our lower hull. In each case, Karen emitted a satisfying hiss or squeak.     Next up was the image of a child chasing a dog that burst from behind a station wagon and dashed across our path. Steph jinked us up and over the kid and Karen screeched, then looked back to see nothing.     "Huh," I said, "Must have hit them after all. I'll have to run us through a carwash later."     Karen's eyes narrowed on mine.     "Unless they were holograms," I amended.     Someone appeared to throw a bottle at us as we rounded a curve. The person was a holograph; the bottle wasn't. It sailed right at the pilot's seat and flashed against our field as Karen cringed from the point of impact.     "Remember the rock," I said. "No sweat. Now for some fun stuff. This is supposed to be downtown Washington."     We went over stuff and around things, zig-zagging up one six-story building's side to check offices for the range's terrorist character, then across the roof and down the other side of the building the same way.     I think Karen stopped breathing until we nosed over the edge of the roof, then headed straight down. That's when she sucked in what seemed to be a vast amount of air and screamed until we'd crossed the street and ducked into a multi-level parking garage.     A search of all the parking levels, hopping over cars and people, and then back down to the basement on the other side of the garage. Up the exit ramp into daylight again, barely above the roofs of traffic on the street.     We whipped between trucks and buses for a stretch, then zipped through a city park, across a good-sized pond, and through mockups of the Lincoln and Jefferson memorials.     Steph held our speed at a plodding fifty throughout the maze. Karen kept her deathgrip on her seat, as well as trying to see in all directions at once and flinching hard whenever something seemed close enough to scratch our paint.     On the last uphill leg of the course, a man standing near a crowd of tourists pulled a light antitank weapon from the trunk of a car, quickly aimed it at us, and fired. Karen covered her face and screeched as the LAW round exploded against our forward field.     As the man grabbed for something in his coat, Steph dropped a field-bubble around him. When he exploded, the blast and shrapnel reached no farther than a few feet. Steph dissolved the field bubble as we passed and a cloud of smoke rose from the spot.     A faint, "Oh my God..." came from Karen, who turned to stare at the spot as we passed it and for some moments longer before she turned back around.     She looked at me, then at Stephanie, then locked her eyes to the front. We stopped in the staging area and I pointed at the building on the left.     "Restrooms and snacks are in that one," I said. "The other building is where they keep the range props."     I could see the rapid pulse in Karen's throat as she stared rather starkly at me. Summoning up some calming theta waves with my implant, I sent them into her until she seemed to relax somewhat.     "Feeling better?" I asked.     "Uh... Yes. Yes, I think so."     "Theta waves. Something else Steph taught me."     "You can generate theta waves, too?"     Grinning, I said, "Yup. Ready to go again?"     Her eyes got big and her pulse pounded briefly, but she recovered herself and said, "Ah... No. I think I need a minute first. In fact, I think I'll... Uh, make use of those facilities you mentioned."     I nodded and stood up. She likewise attempted to stand, but her knees didn't work well at that moment. I took her arm and kept her upright for a moment, then started her toward the edge of the deck with an arm around her waist.     "Helluva ride, wasn't it?" I asked.     She gave me a sharp glance, then nodded silently, apparently more concerned about the distance to the ground from the flitter's deck.     I hopped down and helped her to the ground. Karen looked back at the flitter once, seemed to gather herself together, and glanced at me again before she set off somewhat unsteadily for the building.     Watching her progress, I again noticed her fine, solid legs. Very nice, if a bit wobbly at the moment. Chapter Twenty-Six     Steph said, "Ed, if you can divert your attention from Karen's legs for a moment, Linda would like a word with you. I told her that Dr. Mills is indisposed."     I hopped back aboard, grabbed my coffee mug, and settled into a seat as Linda appeared on a field screen and said, "Trainees don't usually hit the ranges until week three. I thought you might wait until tomorrow, at least."     "Weeks one and two are usually familiarization with weapons, gear, and basic tactics and you gave me a tight deadline. We did range six at a measly fifty, Linda. I hadn't planned to take her through at more than twice that until Tuesday, but if she holds together today, we might. By the way, don't think I don't see what you're up to, ma'am."     With a slight grin, Linda asked, "Up to?"     "Yup. Up to. I've come to think I may be training my replacement."     "Not exactly, Ed, but we aren't getting any younger, are we? How did Mills handle the trip through range six?"     I shrugged. "Well, she didn't throw up or wet herself. Some have, so that's a good sign, I think. If she's up for another run when she gets back from the ladies room, she may be what you're looking for."     Linda chuckled. "Could be. How's everybody getting along?"     "Well enough, although Mills may not agree with me about that. Steph's the good guy, of course, and I'm the heavy. Right about now, Mills is probably sitting on the pot and reevaluating her desire to work with flitters, but I'd bet fifty bucks that she'll be back out here in a few minutes, if only to avoid giving me any satisfaction today."     Laughing, Linda asked, "Are you saying she's pig-headed or just stubborn?"     "I'd call it 'stubborn', but that isn't worth much if there's nothing to back it up. Mills isn't all bureaucrat, Linda. She's got guts and brains, too. She may be what you want if she can adapt to actually interacting with an AI instead of simply commanding one of the dull ones. Even if she can't adapt, you could always use her with the groups."     Linda's gaze turned to Steph. "Do you concur with Ed, Stephanie?"     "At present. Also with his thoughts that you're probably grooming Dr. Mills for individual duties rather than regular group interaction."     "As I said, not exactly," said Linda. "She wouldn't be Ed's replacement unless or until something happened to him. In the meantime, she'd be issued one of the non-commercial flitters and be available to assist or to operate alone. I'd prefer that you not mention this to her for the present, in case she doesn't work out."     I nodded. "You got it."     Linda looked away from the screen for a moment, then called, "Emory! I have Ed on the line."     A moment later Emory Wallace's face appeared on the screen.     "Hi, Ed. Listen, I did some rooting and Myra's people seem interested mostly in getting their hands on one of the non-issue flitters for some tests. They don't seem to know what to expect, so they likely don't have all the specs. We're considering setting up something that would look like a freestyle event. Are you up for that?"     "Ask Linda, Emory. If'n she is, I is. No sweat for us country boys. The pretty face from the big city agency will think she vamped me into letting her fly my flitter, but Steph knows how far not to go with a show and tell."     With only the slightest of condescending looks, Wallace said, "We call that 'selected information leakage' these days, Ed."     I laughed.     "That's like calling it 'controlled incontinence', Emory. Send me the latest Washington-speak dictionary. I need a new doorstop. We're just letting a con artist con herself. Do we really need today's favorite beltway-yuppie bullshit euphemism for something as simple as that?"     The screen jiggled, indicating that their datapad was changing hands as Linda said, "Knock it off, guys." Her face appeared again and she said, "I just called to see how things were going, Ed. Keep me posted."     "Will do, Fearless Leader."     Linda poked her pad off and the field screen on the flitter disappeared. I looked toward the building. No Karen. Well, it had only been a few minutes.     I entertained myself for another few minutes by fielding small rocks into the air and smacking them downrange with a field-bat. One flew close to a hundred yards.     One rock I fielded up for batting practice seemed different, so instead of hitting it into the distance, I brought it closer. One side of it was absolutely flat, as if the rock had been split. It had tiny flecks of mica or something in it and didn't look anything like the other rocks in the area.     A few moments of searching turned up the rest of the stone. It was about the size of my open hand and had a flat side that matched the fragment perfectly.     Using my field implant, I created a narrow-tipped tendril and caused a white-hot spot about 1/32nd of an inch wide on the rock. Nothing seemed to happen.     I quickly switched the spot to cold, then back to hot again. With a sharp 'pop!' a tiny bit of rock exploded away from the surface, leaving a tiny crater.     It also left a stinging sensation in my thumb where the bit of rock had hit me. I set the rock on the ground and stood a yard away from it as I continued pitting the surface in a pattern.     Footsteps some time later made me glance up to see Mills approaching. I returned to etching the stone. Alternating hot and cold while maintaining a narrow tip became easier with practice; it was almost like drawing with a magic marker after a few minutes.     Karen stood somewhat behind me and watched quietly as I worked. When I finished, I stepped forward and picked up the rock to examine my results. The flat side of the stone now read, 'Dr. Karen Mills, Flitter Pilot' in a kind of handwritten script.     After setting the rock down to smooth a few places where the craterings hadn't been uniform, I picked it up and set it on the deck of the flitter. It tipped over immediately and rocked back and forth like a turtle on its back.     "Steph," I said, "Would you shear the bottom flat, please?"     "No problem," said Steph.     The rock levitated a foot or so, then Steph cleanly sliced a small section off the bottom of the rock and set it back down. It now sat firmly on the deck.     "Thank you, milady. Anything you want to add?"     "Just this," said Steph, and the flat surface of the stone began to shine as her field polished it. I suspect she also cleaned up some of my etching errors, too.     "Excellent," I said. "I'd like to learn that trick, ma'am. Shall we give it to her now, or wait until Wednesday?"     "She's learned the very basics of flitter operation, so I see no reason that she shouldn't have it now."     With a nod, I picked up the rock and turned to Mills.     "We don't issue wings in this outfit," I said, handing her the stone. "This'll have to do."     Mills took the rock and gazed at it for some moments.     "Something wrong?" I asked. "I know I spelled your name right."     She chuckled oddly, then looked up and said, "Ah, no. That's not it. I... Well, I came out here ready to give you... um, ready to give you a little hell about things, I guess. I didn't expect to be presented with an award."     I shrugged. "It isn't much of an award, really. I was just fooling around with my field implant and that's what came out of it. I think maybe it wouldn't look anywhere near that good if Steph hadn't zapped it, too."     She nodded and said, "Thanks," then looked at Steph and said, "Thanks to both of you. I'll find a place for this on my desk, I promise."     A somewhat awkward silence ensued for a few moments as she boarded the flitter and took her seat. She seemed uncertain about setting the rock on the deck, then did so anyway and looked at me.     "Yeah," I said. "It'll be okay there. You ready for another run through the maze?"     Taking a deep breath, Mills said, "I think so. We'll be going faster this time, right?"     "A little. People usually work their way up to full speed."     "I'll bet they do."     She seemed not to know what to do with her hands, then settled for clasping them together in her lap.     I asked, "Want a hint on how to make this easier, Karen?"     She nodded. "Sure. Anything that would help would be good."     "It's simple," I said, "Think about the point of the exercise. What is it, really?"     "The point? Uhm, well, obviously not whether the flitter can recognize and handle the obstacles, so that would mean it's a test of the pilot."     "Right. But a test of the pilot in what way?"     Mills regarded me for a moment, then looked at Steph, who simply looked back at her until Mills again turned to me.     "Psychological stamina?" she asked.     "Nope. Not really."     "What, then?"     "Faith, Karen. Belief that the flitter can and will get you through things. There will be times when you'll have to root some bastard out of a building or a crowd and do it as quickly as possible to save lives. We think in terms of walking or driving speeds. 'As quickly as possible' has a different meaning to a flitter."     Waving at the range below, I said, "The course is almost exactly six miles long and the obstacles are never the same ones in the same places. Steph's average time through the range is sixty-eight point three seconds."     Karen goggled at me for a moment, then looked at Steph again.     "That's... That's almost... four hundred miles per hour...?!"     I nodded. "Yup. I can endure some of it, but I usually just close my eyes when we're inside the buildings at that speed."     When she turned to peer in shock at me, I explained, "It's a bit disconcerting. That's why Steph does all the driving on the course."     After a moment, laughter escaped her in an unladylike guffaw.     "Disconcerting? Dis-con-certing?"     More laughter. I sipped my coffee and waited her out.     As she wound down, she seemed to study the range below, then looked hard at me and said, "I don't think I can actually believe it."     "What? That I close my eyes or that Steph can do it in sixty-eight seconds?"     "The time, Ed. It's just a bit much. Or rather, a bit too little."     "You want to time us?"     Her gaze narrowed slightly, then more.     "You're serious, aren't you?" she asked softly.     I sighed. "Karen, we're out here to be serious. You have until Wednesday to reach team-level proficiency. Are you up to a few training shortcuts? If so, let's go."     "You're saying that all the group people..."     "They've all run this course. Hell, they're why these courses exist."     "Do you mind if I call someone first?"     "No calls. Believe me or don't. Don't, and we spend days out here taking you up the ladder in baby steps."     She looked downrange again, bit her lip, and asked, "And this is really necessary?"     "Well, that's your decision, ma'am. Do you still want to work with flitter teams?"     Karen sat stiffly, glancing at each of us without moving anything but her eyeballs.     For a moment I thought she'd step off the flitter, but then she sat upright in her seat, grabbed the edges, and said, "No baby steps. If someone else can do this, I can, too."     I nodded firmly. "Damned right. Steph, let's do two nonstop laps at sixty, please, then two more at one-twenty. If Mills can hold herself together, we'll go up from there."     My last remark earned me a sharp look from Mills, but whatever she'd been about to say became a gasp as we launched into motion and she faced front.     She made other noises, too. Lots of them, but mostly of the higher-pitched variety as we again ran through the course.     This time the parking garage doors were closed and we had to enter the building from above. Steph simply nosed up and we skimmed up the side of the building to the roof, then dove into the relative darkness of the top parking level.     Mills gasped for breath against her tension. I reached to tap her shoulder and thought she'd snap her neck turning her head to look at me.     "Eyes," I said. "If it gets too intense, just close your eyes."     "I can't!" she screamed at me.     "Better learn how," I said. "Sixty is nothing. One-twenty is coming up soon."     "I can't!"     Steph banked sharply to angle us between two buses and Mills screeched again as she turned back to the front and watched the edges of our fields glow where they touched the vehicles.     The next time Mills screamed, I used my implant to tell Steph, "Better make it three laps at sixty. She still needs some time to get used to this."     "It would appear so," said Steph, turning to face me. "May I ask why you told her my best average time, but failed to mention that I ran the course alone to set course standards?"     I patted the seat next to mine. Mills stared at Steph in horror as Steph left her seat and came to sit beside me, apparently not even looking where the flitter was going.     "You're being picky," I said, "And I was with you on some of the runs, wasn't I?"     "Only because Doreen was called to work that weekend. You'd have been with her otherwise."     "But I did get out here in time for some of the runs, didn't I? Can I help it if exploring Doreen is more interesting than practice ranges?"     Lap one ended and lap two began without the tiniest sign of relaxation from Karen.     Steph said, "You gave Dr. Mills the impression that all of the flitter group members have run the course at full speed, Ed. Only two of them have chosen to do so."     "Yeah, I know, ma'am, and I kind of feel guilty about that, but..."     She rolled her eyes. "No you don't. Not at all."     "Well, okay, no, I don't, really. But I didn't exactly tell her that, did I?"     "No, you didn't. You simply chose wording that allowed her to infer that they had. How is that not somewhat like lying to her?"     "It's a technicality, Steph. A small -- but very important -- technicality."     My coffee mug was empty. I set the cup down and had reached into the cooler for a Dr Pepper, then twisted the cap off before I noticed Karen staring bug-eyed at me.     "Want a Dr Pepper, Karen? We have cold lemon tea in cans, too."     "What?!" she hissed, staring at me even harder before switching her gaze to Steph and asking, "Why the hell are you sitting back there?!"     Steph said, "My visible presence isn't required at all, Dr. Mills, so it really doesn't matter where I sit."     I nodded and closed the cooler, then asked Steph, "What do you think? Will three laps be enough before we jack up the speed?"     Mills heard me and turned to look at me starkly.     "I don't know," said Steph. "Her readings are rather high."     "Should I tell her that she can put the opaque canopy up when things get too scary?"     "What?" asked Mills in a half-screech. "The what canopy?"     "The opaque one," I said. "You know, the kind you can't see through?"     With an incredulous look she screamed, "I know what opaque means, you half-wit!"     "Half-wit? Oh, hey, now I'm insulted," I said. "Hurt and depressed, too. Go back to whatever you were doing, Mills. I'm talking to Steph."     Taking a long pull on my Dr Pepper, I sat back and watched the scenery flash by as Mills stared at us.     Pointing forward, I said to Steph, "Looks as if they moved the buses this time."     Mills turned to see the two buses blocking our path and hissingly drew a breath as we skirted them to the right above the heads of holographic people on the sidewalk.     Steph said, "I'll suggest some new programming. I've already encountered every obstacle in every available position several times."     "Yeah, things are getting a little stale," I said.     The holographic guy with the real LAW fired at us again from behind the corner of a building. Steph tapped him with a stun field before he could reach into his coat and he went down cold just as Steph nosed us up the side of another building.     "What the hell are you doing?" screeched Mills. "You already got the terrorist! It's over!"     "There may always be more than one terrorist in a scenario," said Steph. "The course isn't finished until we return to the staging area."     Lap two was nearing an end when Karen abruptly got out of her seat and nearly made it to the left edge of the deck before going to her knees and upchucking more or less over the side.     Steph zapped the stuff outside her field before any of it could touch the deck. Pulling out one of my paper towel hankies, I took a can of tea out of the cooler and waited for Mills to get herself reorganized.     "Stop," said Mills. She got to her feet without turning around and said, "Stop the flitter. Please."     Steph brought the flitter to a halt. I stepped over to reach around Karen and hand her the hanky as she took deep breaths. After using it, she seemed unsure what to do with the hanky. I took it from her and tossed it over the side. It flared brightly and a light breeze scattered the ashes.     Karen's hands shook so that she managed to spill a bit of the tea, but it never reached her skirt. Mills looked startled when the tea vanished in mid-plummet and looked at me. I shook my head and thumbed at Steph. Mills slowly nodded at Steph and thanked her.     "Well?" I asked. "Why are we stopped, ma'am? I thought you were kind of getting used to things until you threw up back there."     Mills glared at me as she sipped her tea, then muttered, "You. Shut up. We're going to do this my way."     "Woo. Yes'm. You betcha. Okay. Uhm... What's your way?"     She ignored me and turned to Steph.     "Stephanie, how essential is it that I see what's happening during the course?"     Steph smiled and said, "Not at all essential, really."     Nodding, Mills sipped her tea again and then had a small coughing fit when it went down the wrong way. When she recovered, she nodded again.     "That's what I thought. Okay. Let's put up that opaque canopy Ed mentioned and run the course at full speed, but record it for playback and stop at the halfway point so I can look around."     She gave us a small, wry smile and a shrug as she said, "I know me. If I can't actually see that it happened... Well, I'll need to be able to convince myself later that it really did happen."     Steph nodded agreement and the flitter's opaque canopy appeared. Mills reached to touch it and her hand disappeared through the fake metal.     "Oh, lord," she muttered, "Oh, hell." She shook her head again and said, "Okay. I'm as ready as I can be, I think. Let's do it."     Half a minute later Steph dropped the canopy and we found ourselves looking back up the hillside at our starting point. A vid screen appeared and displayed our progress through the course. We could barely follow the flitter on the screen.     After a moment, Mills simply nodded to Steph. The next time the canopy opened we were back where we'd started.     As Karen's gaze left the buildings and found me, I smiled and shrugged and said, "That's all there ever was to this part of your training, Karen. Getting past the obvious. Want to do the whole course again, just to lock things in?"     She nodded. "Yes. Just to lock things in."     Steph put up the canopy and called the obstacle stations as she conquered them until we'd returned to the staging area. Mills sat slowly shaking her head, then sipped her tea again before speaking.     "This range wasn't about learning to fly the flitter. It wasn't about controlling anything but my need to control things."     "You got it," I said. "And now that you know how to do it, let's head back to base."     Mills glanced up at me. "Already?"     "Why not? Range nine will be there tomorrow. Right now we're going to check in with Tiger, then make you comfortable in my room and show you some movies."     With a narrow gaze, she asked, "Uhm... What kind of movies? And why in your room?"     "They're field manipulation movies. How to work with fields in the field, and stuff like that. Recordings of past uses. We're doing it in my room to avoid interruptions." Chapter Twenty-Seven     As we headed back to the base, Mills asked, "Why are you assuming that we'd be interrupted elsewhere?"     "Why are you assuming that we wouldn't be? You know a lot of people here, Karen. I do, too, but only about half a dozen of them know I'm here, and only two of them can get through to me at the moment."     Hangar two went from being a speck on the horizon to a recognizable building, then it seemed to rush toward us until Steph stopped us in front of the big rolling doors.     "Jesus," whispered Karen. "I thought we weren't going to stop in time."     "Steph," I said, "Tell her how many flitter crashes there have been."     When Mills looked at her, Steph said, "None. No flitter has ever crashed due to a computer malfunction or a mechanical failure."     "Never?" asked Karen, "Not even one?"     "Not even one."     After a moment, Mills looked at me and asked, "You aren't going to try anything with me, are you?"     "Such as?" I asked.     I looked for Tiger and Elkor, but didn't see them.     "Making a pass at me, for instance," said Mills.     With a quick shake of my head, I said, "Won't happen. You have great legs, but you aren't my type at all."     Karen stiffened slightly and her gaze narrowed in response to my words.     Keying my implant as I continued speaking, I said, "Elkor, I don't see you guys anywhere. Is Tiger ready to take a break yet?"     Through my implant -- and therefore unheard by Karen -- Elkor replied, "Tiger says that he'd prefer to continue looking around, Ed."     "Okay. If he changes his mind, let me know. I'd have time to run him home while Mills watches recordings."     I nodded to Steph and we moved toward the guest billets. Mills looked at me oddly, her head slightly canted.     "That must be like having other people in your head all the time."     "Nope. It isn't like that at all. The contact isn't continuous. We call each other when we have something to say."     "Still..." said Karen, "With those implants, it seems to me that you've... Well, that you've distanced yourself from the rest of humanity. Tell me, do you have any close friends who happen to be human? Other than Linda, I mean?"     I gazed at Mills for a moment, then asked, "Karen, how will knowing how many close friends I may have help your training?"     Mills met my gaze for another moment, then said, "I suppose it wouldn't. I was just curious, Ed. For all your emphasis on first names and such, you haven't really seemed to be that friendly a person."     With a small grin, I said, "I stopped calling you 'doc', didn't I? What do you want now? A hug and a kiss?"     She rolled her eyes, shook her head slightly, and turned away to look at buildings as we passed them. I finished my Dr Pepper, stood up, and went to place my hands on her shoulders. Mills startled sharply, then sat very still.     "Dr. Mills," I said, "My personal life is not a subject for discussion. Neither is yours. In the course of your training you'll probably find out a few things about me, but those things won't be fodder for conversation, either. All you really need to know about me is that I -- with Steph's help -- can teach you most of what you'll need to know about fields and flitters very, very quickly. Is that all right with you?"     Her rather cool response was, "Yes. Of course."     I took my hands from her shoulders as we stopped, then picked up my overnight bag and stepped off the flitter. Karen came over and I handed her down, then I handed Steph down as well and the flitter rose straight up quickly.     "Where's the flitter going?" asked Karen.     "It parks upstairs," I said, leading the way into the billets.     "Why?"     "Because that's where I want it to park."     The clerk nodded a silent greeting as he watched us pass the front desk. His eyes then fell to the floor and he seemed puzzled when he saw no cat.     "My cat may show up later," I said. "He knows where to find me and he won't need any help. Just let him go by, okay?"     "Uh... Yeah," said the clerk. "Okay. Let him go by."     "Thanks. He may have another cat with him. That's okay, too."     The clerk only nodded and stared as if he wondered about our sanity.     Room 206 reminded me of every motel room I'd ever seen; a bathroom on the right as we entered, then a bed flanked by night tables on the left, a TV on a stand near a small desk to the right, and curtained sliding glass doors at the end of the room that opened on a small balcony.     I tossed my bag on the bed and shoved the TV stand over a few feet, then slid the desk in the opposite direction. Unlike things might have been in a motel, the picture on the wall wasn't attached with screws. I stood it behind the desk and then looked at Steph.     "Will that be enough room for a life-sized image?"     She nodded. "Shall I start now?"     "Hold one, ma'am. Karen, now's the time to hit the bathroom or get a drink. The show's about to start."     Mills pulled the desk chair over near the bed and sat down.     "Maybe later," she said.     "Good enough. Okay, Steph. Roll 'em. I'll see everybody later."     As I headed for the door, Mills asked, "What? Where are you going?"     "Out. I've seen this movie and Steph can explain fields better than I can."     A field appeared on the wall and for the next two and a half hours Steph displayed and explained various ways in which flitter fields and factory fields had been used or might be used.     During this time I went for a walk in the main building and eventually ended up in the dining hall, sipping coffee and reading on my datapad. Steph called a little before five and said that they were finished.     "Thanks, Steph. Tell her that's all for the day unless she has questions about fields that you can't answer."     "There are no questions about fields that I can't answer, Ed."     "Exactly. I can't think of any, either. If she can't, we're through for the day, right?"     "I see. You were attempting to be facetious."     "Well, gee, lady, when you say it like that... Oh, well. Hit some, miss some. Tell Mills we'll get started around nine tomorrow morning."     After a moment, Steph said, "Dr. Mills would like to speak with you, Ed."     "Hm. Figures. Okay. Send her to the mess hall. Will you be joining us?"     "I think not. I'll find something to do elsewhere."     "Okay. Stay out of trouble, ma'am."     Steph laughed and said, "Oh, indeed, sir. Yes, of course, sir. Absolutely, sir."     I laughed. "You're starting to sound like Selena."     A few pages of my book later I felt someone approaching from behind me and waved at the seat next to me as I said, "Hi, Karen. Grab a chair."     The sneakered footsteps stopped for a moment, then resumed.     Karen came into view and stood next to me for a moment, then sat down with a coffee and asked, "Did Stephanie tell you I was behind you?"     "Nope. Some things I manage on my own. How'd you like the show?"     Mills chewed her lip as she looked at me for a moment, then she sipped her coffee and set it down.     "The first hour," she said, "Took us through basic field capabilities and techniques. Lifting, carrying, self-defense. About half of the rest of the recordings were recaps of your exploits with Stephanie. When I asked her if she had anyone else's field... uhm, activities... on file, Stephanie showed me... uhm... footage, I guess you'd call it... of two other peoples' unusual uses of flitter fields. One had to do with making a temporary water conduit repair at a nuclear power facility and the other showed someone using a field to contain several small chemical fires in a building."     I nodded. "Yup. I've seen those flicks, too."     "Compared to enclosing an entire infected building or letting someone shoot at you until his ammunition was gone, those uses weren't very impressive."     "Maybe not," I said with a grin, "But they got the job done, didn't they?"     Mills sighed and said, "I think I may have underestimated you, Ed."     "Don't sweat it. Happens all the time." I lifted one golf-shoe clad foot into view and pointed at it. "Maybe it's because of my shoes."     With a small grin of her own, Karen said, "Or possibly your shirt. Or even your personality, as difficult as that may be for you to believe."     She sipped her coffee for a moment, then said, "I first thought you were simply Linda Baines'... well, I don't know what I thought you were, Ed. That was based on my observations of your interactions with her, but my conclusions didn't seem to hold up well this afternoon."     Karen obviously expected some kind of response, but I simply gazed at her, waiting for her to continue.     After a moment she said, "And now I don't really know what to think of you."     "Think of me as a last-ditch teacher and let it go at that, Mills. It's our only involvement, so don't fret over things that aren't any of your business."     "Why don't you want me to know anything about you, Ed? Are you afraid of what I might turn up?"     I sighed and stood up.     "Mills, you have enough rank to ask for a look at my file through Linda's office. Do it and stop bugging me about stuff you don't have any need -- or really any right -- to know. I'm going to get some dinner now. If you're here to eat, grab a tray."     As I arrived at the food line, one of the attendants was swapping out a container of plain baked potatoes for the kind that have that creamy junk in them. The plain baked potatoes were placed on a cart behind the attendant.     I tendril-grabbed the last two plain potatoes and fielded them over the attendant and the sneeze-partition to my tray while the attendant's back was turned.     The guy turned back to his cart and moved on to the next item to be swapped, apparently never noticing the missing potatoes.     "Want one?" I asked Mills.     She shook her head and reached for one of the cream-filled potatoes.     "No, I like these."     I fielded the smaller of the plain potatoes to fill the space where the one she'd taken had rested. The guy with the cart stopped to put out a clean cutting board and some new roast beef and stropped his carving knife on a sharpening steel, then he quickly began slicing the meat.     He served us a few slices each, then finished slicing the roast and set his knife and steel on his cart. From shelves below the cart's tool rack he removed food containers and put them on top of the cart one at a time.     One of the jello cubes fell to the floor. The guy saw it and continued his motion to put the container on display, then bent to pick up the jello cube. When his butt bumped his cart, the knife fell off the cutting board.     The guy pulled his hand out from under the knife before it hit the floor, but then the knife bounced and the blade slapped across the inside of his elbow before the knife clattered to a stop under the cart.     Blood instantly spurted from his arm in a long arc and his eyes got big as he realized that he'd been cut, after all. I'd seen him draw the blade through the roast beef; it was so sharp he'd probably barely felt its touch.     Mills was already racing to the end of the serving line to go around it and get to the man. The guy grabbed his arm and stood up, which only served to make the blood spurt farther and faster as his heartbeat quickened.     Stepping to the next modular serving booth, I shoved it back far enough to squeeze past it and grabbed the guy to pull him to the floor as I used a field to pressure-seal the opening in his arm until only a rivulet of blood seeped out.     Mills arrived and helped me hold him down as she applied pressure to slow the bleeding. The guy started thrashing and yelling as I keyed my implant.     "Steph," I said, "We need medics to the dining hall."     Appearing beside me, she said, "I've already called them. I'll use theta waves to calm him."     The injured man abruptly went quiet and still, then seemed to fall asleep.     A startled Mills stared at the open wound and asked, "What the hell..? Why isn't it bleeding? I can see the wound! I saw it spurting!"     "Just call it a field dressing," I said with a grin, "Steph, how about taking over for me? I can't seem to get a good enough seal over the wound."     "Yes, Ed. You may retract your field now. Dr. Mills, you may release his arm. I can handle matters until the medical team arrives."     Mills seemed doubtful, but relaxed her grip, then removed her hands from the man's arm. Steph's field completely and transparently contained all leakage. Mills examined the wound through Steph's field for several moments, then sat back on her heels and shook her head.     In a tone of exasperation, she asked, "Why the hell aren't we using fields like these in emergency medicine? For that matter, why aren't they being used in OR's?"     I sat back as well as Steph said, "They aren't authorized for medical uses."     "Why not?" asked Mills.     Steph explained that using fields in emergency rooms and operating rooms would mean employing computers like herself and Elkor or at least their lesser cousins such as are found in flitters, and that when such field uses had been suggested, they'd been summarily refused and barred.     Political lobbyists had managed to push into being the year before a draft of a bill that included a ban on AI-controlled equipment and procedures. Linda had said that recordings of her own spinal operation had been shown to try to counteract the pending legislation, but that the bill's sponsors had been unmoved.     A couple of security people arrived just ahead of two medics, who marveled briefly at Steph's expertise with fields, then placed a conventional dressing on the man's arm. Another medic showed up with a flitter gurney and a few minutes later they took the injured man out of the dining hall.     Mills watched the flitter gurney for a moment, then asked, "Isn't a gurney considered a medical device?"     I said, "It isn't controlled by an AI, but even if it were, that ban doesn't necessarily apply on this particular base."     The security people took notes about the incident and left, then Steph disappeared and Mills and I went to clean up while kitchen personnel went to work cleaning and straightening the serving line.     Near the restrooms I said, "Maybe we'll go for a ride this evening, Mills."     Her tone held more than a hint of suspicion as she asked, "A ride to where?"     "Taking Tiger home ought to give us time to talk."     She stopped by the ladies room door. "Time to talk about what?"     "Well, damn, lady. If you come along, you might find out."     I shoved the men's room door open and went in, leaving her in the hallway.     After washing up a bit, I returned to the dining hall, loaded another tray, and took a seat at a table that had a few empty tables around it. Mills came in and spotted me, then filled a tray of her own and joined me, taking the seat across from mine. Chapter Twenty-Eight     A few moments into her meal, Karen asked, "You were saying...? Time to talk about what?"     Pausing with a bite of steak, I said, "AI's and fields, that's what. You asked why you hadn't seen fields used like that. The reason is that AI technology is being blocked. What doctor wants to hear that he's going to be replaced?"     She shook her head. "They couldn't replace real doctors."     "Sure they could. Not for a few years because everybody's shy of new things, but a string of successes like Linda's would guarantee that AI's would replace human doctors fairly quickly. Insurance companies would love them. Hospitals could buy one and use it for twenty years for a tenth or less of what a human doctor would cost them. Now, why do you think we aren't seeing AI doctors? The Amarans made their offer two years ago, I think. Steph? Is that about right?"     Steph appeared in the seat beside mine and replied, "Two years, four months, and thirteen days."     Mills squeaked and dropped her fork, then breathed deeply and muttered as she fished her fork out of her food.     As Mills recovered from Steph's abrupt appearance, I asked, "Have any patent applications concerning field medical uses been filed?"     "One for immobilizing patients and one for transporting them. Both patent applications are registered to 3rd World Products. Neither has received approval to date."     "What about patents on medical nanobots or field hardware?"     "None. The Amarans have shared medical nanobots and sealed field generators and controllers, but they haven't shared manufacturing data."     I looked at Mills. Her mouth was open as wide as her eyes.     "Oh, my God," she said flatly. "It's true."     "Steph," I said, "Please see what's necessary to register a US patent on the field-generated 'temporary medical device' we used here today to suppress bleeding. List all advantages and variations such as device transparency and the ability to use instruments through the device to repair tissue damage. And anything else you can think of, of course. Hell, you'll know what to say better than I would, but be sure to call it a device. The lawyers can argue about semantics later."     Mills said, "I think you may be confused about what may actually be patentable."     "Could be. I never looked into them much, but Steph will know."     Pausing to sip my drink, I added, "We'll have George Wilmot attempt to register a patent in your name, Steph. If he can't, we'll try registering it in Switzerland next. If we have to, we'll just go down the list of countries until somebody accepts your patent app, then use it as a precedent if anyone else tries to patent the same 'device'."     Mills put a hand on my arm to stop me and asked, "But... Won't you have to share the patent with 3rd World? You're an employee."     I gave her a grin. "Steph isn't and I don't have to be."     "But she isn't a real person, Ed, she's a computer. You own her!"     "We're working on that. A few precedent-setting patents in her name might help put some pressure on the government to solve that problem, too. A lot of people would be outraged to learn that fantastic new medical techniques were being suppressed."     Another thought occurred to me.     "Steph, let's see if there's a country that will let you practice medicine, even if it has to be some pissant little nation for now. We could open a chain of AI-run free clinics under the Stephanie Montgomery banner."     Karen seemed unable to believe what she was hearing.     "What's the matter, Mills?" I asked. "Did I overlook something?"     "Ah... I... I don't know. I think you'd better talk this over with Linda, Ed. At the very least, with Linda."     "Planned to. Anything else?"     She slowly shook her head and said, "No. I guess not."     My watch beeped.     I tapped the button and Linda said, "Hi, Ed. I can't leave you and Steph alone for a minute, can I?"     "Hi, Linda. Security couldn't wait until tomorrow morning to check me out?"     "Apparently not. I got the dining hall story third-hand when I verified your duty status for them. Is Stephanie with you?"     "Yes, she is," I said. "Shall we put you on a screen?"     "No," said Linda. "I just got out of the shower. Good work, Steph."     "Thank you, Linda."     "Ed, can you and Steph spare time for a trip to 3rd World's Washington, DC offices this evening?"     "Sure, Linda. What's up?"     "Nothing much. It's an errand, really. I was going to send Alexis, but since you're training Dr. Mills, I thought you might want to get in some night flying. Drop by hangar two and see Phil about the package. I'll let him know to expect you."     With a laugh, I asked, "You mean you haven't already? Oh, hey, do you mind if I take a few minutes to drop Tiger off in Florida on the way?"     "No problem. As long as the package is there by ten."     "Call it a deal, then. Anything else?"     "Nope. Thanks, Ed."     "Anything for my Fearless Leader. Over and out and all that."     Linda laughed. "Okay. Bye, bye, Dragonfly." She clicked off.     Karen watched me work on my steak sandwich dinner for some moments, then picked up her own fork and began eating. Another few moments passed before she put the fork down and settled back in her chair.     "Ed, you've known Linda for a long time, haven't you?"     I nodded as I used a piece of bread to sweep up gravy. "Yup."     "Don't you think there's something odd about making a delivery to the Washington offices in the middle of the night?"     Shrugging, I said, "Nope."     Mills looked at me as if she definitely thought so, then she looked at Steph.     "How about you?"     "No," said Steph. "The package contains documents that will be shown in court tomorrow."     "What kind of documents?"     "I can't say. There's a seal on the briefcase, Dr. Mills."     Karen's gaze narrowed slightly as she asked, "Then how do you know the briefcase contains only documents?"     "I peeked at transshipment records."     "You... 'peeked'? How?"     "Oh, hell, Mills," I said, "She's a supercomputer who can link into any damned thing on this base. How do you think she peeked?"     Giving her a 'get real' glance, I rose to take my tray to the bus bins.     "By the way," I said, "It'll be a straight shot to Florida, then another to DC. Not much scenery other than stars and nothing to do. You don't have to come with us."     Mills stood up and picked up her tray.     "No, I'll come along," she said, then she headed toward the bus bins.     When I looked at Steph, she gave me a wry little smile and disappeared.     On my way to the bus bins, I keyed my implant. "Elkor."     "Yes, Ed?"     "Ask Tiger if he's ready to go home, please. If he wants to look around some more, that's okay, but Steph and I have an errand to run this evening."     "Yes, Ed."     I was scraping my tray clean when Elkor said, "He says he's ready, Ed."     "Good enough. We're going to the flitter, then to hangar two. Where's Tiger?"     "He's outside hangar two now. I'll have him meet you there."     "Great. Thanks, Elkor."     Karen shook her head slightly and said, "I still think it's a little unnatural to be directly linked to two computers."     "People do lots of things that are a little unnatural these days, ma'am. I hear some people even fly through the air in big-assed machines and talk to each other with little plastic boxes. Wouldja believe it?"     A few minutes later we were aboard the flitter, which immediately lifted and headed toward hangar two. Tiger and Elkor sat together by the open hangar doors and Steph stopped the flitter so they could hop aboard, then she aimed us at Phil's corner office.     Phil stepped out when he saw us coming and held up a black briefcase as he said, "Hi, Ed. This is it. Tom Wells gets it. Is that little Tiger?"     I nodded. "Yup, but not so little anymore, Phil."     "Is he as smart as Bear was? That little guy used to startle the hell out of me sometimes with his questions. And sometimes with his answers, by God."     "I'd say Tiger could probably startle you, too."     Tiger seemed to stare hard at Phil for a moment, then he said something and Steph answered him.     Steph said, "Tiger said 'this man seems familiar to me'. I told him that Phil fed him and visited with him when he was kept aboard the flitter."     As Steph translated, Mills looked at me questioningly.     "I found Tiger just before I went to the asteroid station," I told her. "He stayed aboard Steph for a few days while I was gone and Phil and Doreen helped Elkor take care of him until I got back. Tiger was just a frightened, confused feral kitten back then, and..."     "Um, Ed," said Mills, "The recordings... Stephanie went with you to the station."     "Yup. She stayed here, too."     "Oh. What? Uh, how...?"     "We made a backup and I took a copy of her to the station. That's who wound up running the place. I came back here and Elkor activated the backup. Now there are two Stephanies, a few million miles apart."     Tiger hopped to the floor to approach Phil, who knelt to let Tiger have a sniff at his hand. Tiger suddenly yelled again and stretched to rub his face on Phil's hand.     Steph said, "Tiger said, 'The man who brought milk!'"     Phil picked up Tiger and ruffled Tiger's chin. Tiger looked solemnly into Phil's eyes for a moment and said something else. Phil looked at Steph.     "Tiger said 'Thank you', Phil," said Steph.     Ruffling Tiger's ears and stroking him, Phil said, "Tell him I was happy to help."     She did so and the reunion continued for some moments before Phil remembered the briefcase by his feet. He gestured at it with a temporarily free hand.     "You have to sign for it," he said, "I'll get the forms."     Carrying Tiger, he stepped into his office and returned with a clipboard. I signed for the case and Phil put the clipboard on a nearby crate.     Phil looked at Karen and said, "Y'know, I didn't think much about cats until I met Bear, but they're damn near as smart as some people."     Mills gave him a small smile and glanced at me as she asked, "Bear?"     "My previous cat," I said. "He was with me almost eighteen years."     "Smart little devil, too," said Phil. "I was sitting in there feeling sorry for myself one afternoon after my fortieth birthday. Ed showed up with Bear and Stephanie and Steph said that Bear wanted to know why I was sad. When I told him, he seemed to think for a minute, then said that since his life was nearly over, he couldn't share my sadness about being in the middle of my life."     Laughing for a moment, Phil grinningly continued, "Well, I almost told him to fuck off -- excuse me, ladies -- but then I realized that he was right. Then I wondered how the hell a cat would know he was getting old. I sat and talked with him for over an hour. Felt strange as hell doing it, and there were times Steph and Elkor couldn't quite figure out what he was saying, but it was a helluva thing, you know? Talking to a cat? When Ed came back from wherever that day, I was sorry to see ol' Bear go."     Mills then chuckled as she asked a question that earned her a harsh look from Phil.     "Are you sure you were talking to the cat, and not to a computer?"     Phil straightened himself and glanced down at Tiger, then softly glowered at Karen for a moment before speaking.     "Ma'am, you wouldn't ask something like that if you'd ever talked to Tiger, here, so why don't you try it sometime and then ask yourself that same question?"     Tiger said something and Steph nodded smilingly as she answered him. When Tiger started struggling to jump down, Phil looked a little perplexed as he put Tiger down.     "It's okay, Phil," said Steph. "He wants to get something from the flitter."     Dashing aboard the flitter, Tiger headed to the back and disappeared into the field that surrounded Steph's treasure pile. Tiger emerged a moment later and zipped back to Phil with one of the gold coins in his mouth, which he put at Phil's feet before he sounded off.     Karen and Phil stared uncomprehendingly, unbelievingly at the coin. Phil wonderingly bent to pick up both Tiger and the coin and turned it over in his hand.     "Holy shit..." whispered Phil, "Is this... Is this thing real?"     "It's real," said Steph. "I found a number of them and Tiger asked if he could give you one. Please accept it, Phil. It would mean a lot to Tiger."     "But... Does he even know what this is? Are you sure about this?"     "He knows that people value them. Yes, Phil, I'm very sure you should accept it."     Phil shook his head as if to clear it and looked at the coin again before meeting Tiger's steady gaze.     "I... All right, then," Phil managed chokingly, "Thank you, Tiger. Thank you very, very much, little guy."     Mills tapped my arm and I looked at her as Steph translated Phil's words.     "Ed," she whispered sharply, "Where did that gold coin come from?"     "Tell you later," I whispered back, "Why? You want one, too?"     She looked flustered as she said, "No! I mean, that wasn't what I meant at all, Ed. I just wondered where the hell computers and cats get gold coins!"     "Later, then. We need to get underway if we're gonna get that case to DC by ten."     Phil heard us talking and said, "Oh, hell. I forgot about that. Okay. Tiger," he hugged Tiger and held the coin in his palm as he spoke, "Thanks, little buddy. I really appreciate this."     I handed Steph and Karen aboard the flitter as Phil and Tiger swapped a few last-minute snuggles, then Tiger jumped down and came to join us. After several more goodbyes and some waving, we got underway and left the hangar.     Plunking myself into the seat to the left of the pilot's seat, I turned to Mills and said, "You're driving, sort of. I'd suggest that you suggest that we head for my house."     Mills had been staring at Tiger. She turned to face me and said, "Uh, sure. Okay. Where's your house?"     Rolling my eyes as if Karen really hadn't quite got the hang of things, I said, "Why not just try asking Steph to take us there?"     With a dour look at me, she turned to Steph, opened her mouth to speak, and then sat silent for a moment.     "What's the matter now?" I asked.     Karen shook her head tersely and said, "I'm sorry, damn it, but I just can't seem to get used to having to phrase orders to a computer in polite terms. Even after all of today, I still actually have to think about it."     Taking a deep breath, she asked, "Stephanie, would you take us there, please?"     Steph smiled sweetly as she said, "Of course, Dr. Mills." Chapter Twenty-Nine     I knew it was coming. The flitter instantly launched upward and toward the southeast at a barely subsonic speed until it reached 10,000 feet, then it accelerated to full speed as it climbed to a hundred miles. Mills sat gripping her seat in openmouthed shock as the stars quickly became much sharper and the sky blackened.     Steph asked, "Music, Ed?"     Nodding, I said, "I think it's your turn to choose, ma'am."     I laughed aloud as bluegrass strings began ringing out 'Foggy Mountain Breakdown' all around us at a middle volume.     "Do you know this one?" Steph asked.     "Flatt and Scruggs wrote it and first played it," I said. "Sometime in the sixties."     Steph made a sour face and said, "Drat."     I laughed again and asked, "Drat?"     "Yes, drat. I thought I might finally have found a tune you couldn't identify. You said you didn't pay any attention to country music."     "Sorry, milady. Maybe next time. It has to happen sooner or later."     As the music rose and fell and the banjo solo yielded to the guitar solo, Karen stared upward at a veritable cloud of stars and whispered, "Oh, my God..."     Pulling two beers from the cooler, I opened them and reached to touch her calf with one. She screeched and her gaze jerked downward to spot the brown Ice House bottle by her leg. I held it up for her and after a moment of staring at me, she reached for it with a trembling hand.     Her eyes left the beer and moved to meet my eyes as her hand wrapped around the bottle, but then her hand clenched tightly around both the bottle and my hand. Her eyes went stark and staring as she gazed past me.     I glanced back and saw no monsters or demons, only the stars above and the tops of the clouds below, and when I turned back to face Mills, I almost asked her what was wrong before it hit me. While Mills had undoubtedly flown before, commercial planes stayed well below half our altitude.     "Oh, hell," I said, "Steph, could we have an opaque canopy for a moment?"     The faux-stainless steel shell instantly formed and cut off Karen's view. Her eyes slowly seemed to focus first on the shell, then on me.     "Better?" I asked.     A moment passed before Karen nodded with a tiny jerk of her head. She remembered the beer in her hand and relaxed enough to let me free my own hand from hers, then she took a sip of the beer. The second sip became a draught.     "Watch her, Steph. She may spew."     Through my implant, Steph said, "No, she won't. She's receiving theta waves."     I pretended to watch Karen closely until she turned to look at me glaringly, then I stood up and backed away.     "Hey! Don't aim yourself at me, lady! I already know what you had for dinner."     Steph giggled and Mills glared.     "I'm not going to throw up."     "Right. Sure. That's what they all say."     Steph laughed. Mills spared her a scathing glance.     "I-will-not-throw-up, dammit!"     She said it rather loudly, even through clenched teeth.     I edged around the back of her seat to take a seat on the far side of Steph.     "Sure," I said. "Okay. Mind if I sit way over here anyway?"     For the first time since I'd met her, Mills uttered a really heartfelt swear word.     "Did you get that, Steph? I want that on record. She called me a nasty name."     Mills almost hissed at me.     "Yes, Ed," said Steph. "May I ask what you intend to do with that record?"     I shrugged. "Well, I'll put it with all the others, I guess. When the pile seems big enough I'll try to find a use for them. Funny, isn't it? When some people freak out, they wind up getting pissed off, too."     Hefting the bottle in her hand, Karen stared angrily at me for a moment, but she evidently elected not to waste the beer after all. She took a long sip and seemed to gather herself for a few moments, then set her beer down, stood up, and held onto the back of her seat as she took a deep breath, then walked around her seat.     "Stay in the front half of the flitter," I said.     "Why?"     "You could trip on something."     "I don't see anything back there."     "Trust me on this one."     Being too much of a lady to say "Fuck you" or give me the finger, she settled for simply allowing me another of her ladylike glares before turning away and walking very deliberately toward the back of the flitter.     "Mills, wait a minute."     She ignored me. Two steps later something stopped her left foot cold and she almost pitched forward to the deck. Hopping to regain her balance, she screeched hissingly and knelt to caress her toes.     "Told ya," I said.     "Shut-up!" she hissed. "Oh just please shut up! Damn!"     I looked at Steph and asked, "Broken or just banged?"     "Banged, not broken."     "Good. It's still just a learning experience and not a lawsuit. Hey, Mills, how about coming back up front now?"     Without letting go of her toes, she yelled, "What the hell's back here to trip over?"     "Come on back up front."     "No!" she yelled, looking around almost frantically. She gestured with her right hand in a broad arc and said, "I don't see a damned thing! I want to know what..."     The back of her wildly swinging hand hit the pile hard enough to dislodge something heavy that clunked when it fell to the deck. Karen forgot about her toes and gaspingly pulled her hand back to clutch it to her middle as she made all the usual noises of agony and shock.     "God-dammit!" she screamed, "What..? Oh, Gawd, that hurts! What the hell..?"     "I tried to tell you not to go back there, ma'am."     Ignoring me completely, Karen groped forward cautiously, stubbing her fingers lightly against something she couldn't see. She groped some more, then pulled a small handful of gold chain off the invisible pile. As it left the field, the chain became visible and Karen sucked in a deep breath.     "Oh, my God..!" she muttered.     "Well, hell, Steph. May as well let her see it all."     Steph nodded and the treasure pile suddenly became visible as I got up to go back there. Mills stared bug-eyed at the treasure -- her toes and hand apparently forgotten -- until I knelt in front of her, blocking her view. Her eyes met mine. I reached to pick up a gold bar and put it in her good hand.     The moment I let go of the bar it dragged her hand quickly to the floor. Too quickly, from the sound of the impact.     "Ow!" said Karen, then, "Oh my God..! It's... It's real!"     I nodded. "Yup. This stuff belongs to Steph."     She looked up in surprise and snapped, "What?"     Thumbing at Steph, I said, "It's hers. Treasure hunting is her hobby."     "Her..?" She turned to look at Steph. "Your hobby?"     Plucking the gold bar out of her hand, I placed it back on the pile with a firm 'clunk'. Mills looked at me again and I reached to help her to her feet.     Standing by the pile and staring at it for some moments, she said nothing. One of the coins rose to hang suspended before her and she reached to take it and study it carefully, then flipped it over.     "If you like it," said Steph, "You may have it."     Mills didn't look up from the coin as she said, "Thank you, but dare I ask why you'd want to give me one of your gold coins, Stephanie?"     Steph rose from her seat and approached us with a questioning expression.     "Dr. Mills," she said, "Give me a good reason for not giving you a coin."     Karen met Steph's gaze and said, "I've done nothing to deserve it."     Shaking her head, Steph said, "That's not quite good enough. Nothing was asked of you, Dr. Mills."     Holding the coin toward Steph, Mills said, "I don't have a good reason, then. I just don't feel right about taking a solid gold coin for nothing."     Steph said, "That was reason enough."     The coin lifted from Karen's hand and floated back to the pile, then the pile disappeared behind another concealment field. Steph also disappeared and reappeared in her former seat.     Mills glanced at Steph, then at me.     "I didn't mean to upset her," she whispered. "I just didn't feel right about taking that coin. Can you understand that?"     I shrugged and whispered back, "Sure. There are a lot of things I haven't done for the same reason. Just didn't feel right about it." With a grin, I added, "A few of 'em even involved money."     "This isn't funny, damn it."     "Didn't say it was. On the other hand, you're the only one who thinks there's a problem." Dropping my voice to an even lower whispered tone, I asked, "Steph? Care to comment on that? Are you at all upset?"     Steph spoke conversationally. "No, Ed, I'm not upset."     In a shrieking whisper, Karen said, "Oh, my God, she heard us!"     I nodded. "Hell, yes, she heard us, Mills. Steph can hear molecules move. She said there's no problem. She accepted your reason. For that matter, so did I. Let's go sit down and finish our beers."     Returning to my seat, I asked, "What's next on the jukebox, Steph?"     A heavy beat replaced the banjos and guitars as she started the new song.     "That's 'Get This Party Started', by Pink," I said, "It rocks even without a mix. You should be a DJ, ma'am."     With mock shock, she asked, "And give up my job as a chauffeur?"     I feigned embarrassment. "Um. Yes. Good point. Sorry."     "As you should be, sir. As you should be."     Mills came to stand by her seat and look at us for a moment, then she said, "I really didn't mean to upset you, Steph."     Steph flashed her a grin and said, "Don't worry. If I was upset, you'd know it."     That remark earned her a surprised look from me as well as Mills.     Through my implant, Steph asked, "Was that a fitting response? I borrowed it from a somewhat similar circumstance in a movie."     I glanced at Karen as she rather self-consciously sat down and reached for her beer, then I nodded and whispered, "It seemed to work for her, too."     Steph stuck with dance music the rest of the way to Florida. As we descended I saw a car turn onto Commodore Avenue and slow down as it neared my house.     "That's Myra," said Steph.     "I didn't really think she'd call ahead," I said.     "Who's Myra?" asked Karen.     "An NSA snoop. They sent Myra to make contact. If I introduce you as a girlfriend, play along."     "What?"     "Just kidding. She is with the NSA, though, and they don't know about Stephanie's gold, so let's keep it that way."     The car pulled onto the swale in front of my house and shut down, then Myra got out and went to ring the doorbell.     "Steph," I said, "Hover above the porch and I'll jump off. Lower me to a spot about three feet behind her and I'll say hello to Miss Myra."     With a grin, Steph positioned us and I stepped off the deck. Steph's field grabbed me and let me down quietly, then I conversationally said, "Hi, there."     Myra screeched and backed against the screen door with a hand diving into her purse. Before she could get the pistol out and leveled at me, I field-snatched it from her hand and suspended it above the doorway.     "It's just me, Myra. You were supposed to call ahead."     "Jesus, Ed! You scared the hell out of me! I could have shot you! Where the hell did you come from?"     Fielding the gun within her reach, I said, "Steph wouldn't have let you shoot me, ma'am. We just got back and saw you arrive. What's the occasion?"     The flitter settled into the driveway as Myra took her gun back and said, "I was just... Who's that?"     "Her name's Karen. Why are you here tonight, Myra?"     Myra's eyes returned to me as she put her gun back into her purse.     "I came to see someone in the area. I was in the neighborhood."     Through my implant Steph said, "Myra's readings say that's not completely true and she just activated a listening device inside her purse."     I nodded over my shoulder to Steph as she, Mills, and Tiger approached.     "Karen, meet Myra. Myra, meet Karen. Now that you're introduced, let's go inside."     Unlocking the door, I said, "I'm gonna get the Sunday paper off the lawn before someone walks off with it. Go on in, ladies. Drinks are in the fridge. Back in a minute."     Tiger and Elkor hopped off the flitter and wandered toward the door through the sand and grass of what I laughingly call my front yard, stopping along the way so that Tiger could investigate something.     Keying my implant as I passed the oaks in my front yard, I said, "Steph, we'll leave Myra's transmitter active. Contact Linda and tell her to think of a reason to call me in about five minutes. Could be we have a golden opportunity, here."     "What kind of opportunity, Ed?"     "Maybe Myra can come along and observe Karen's flitter training. Suggest the idea to Linda when you talk to her. I'll play it her way when she calls me."     "Okay, Ed."     I picked up the paper and a few bits of trash that had blown into the yard, then headed back to the house by way of the trash cans. Once inside the house, I rinsed my hands and dried them, then made myself a cup of coffee as Myra made herself a whiskey sour and made a gin and tonic for Karen.     "You don't want a drink?" asked Myra.     "I'm in a coffee mood," I said. "Karen and I managed maybe half a beer each on the way here."     "A beer? Where were you?" She raised an eyebrow at me and asked, "On a date? Do your other ladies know about her?"     "Other ladies?" asked Karen.     "Not yet, they don't," I said, "And it wasn't a date. Steph's teaching her to fly a flitter. Getting here from Carrington was only a third of the trip. Now she has to get us to DC and then back to Carrington. Night training."     Myra nodded. "I've done it. My dad taught me to fly in our Cessna. Is it about the same in a flitter?"     I grinned. "Simpler controls. Higher, faster. That's all."     The front door opened and Tiger and Elkor ambled in, then the door closed behind them as they headed for the living room.     Steph popped into the kitchen and said, "Linda wants to speak to you, Ed."     "Thanks, milady. Public or private?"     By way of an answer she put up a field screen. Linda's face appeared and the screen moved in front of me as I headed for the sofa chair in the living room.     "Hi, Linda, what's up?"     Myra followed and gave Karen her drink as she sat down on the couch next to her.     "Ed," said Linda, "I just called..." She feigned surprise as she asked, "Is that Myra? What's she doing there?"     "She was in the neighborhood and dropped by." With a grin at Myra, I added, "Or so she says."     Through my implant, Steph said, "Myra just pushed a listening device between the couch cushions. I'm also informing Linda of her action."     Linda seemed thoughtful for a moment, then said, "I see. Well, as I was about to say, I just called to congratulate Dr. Mills. That was good flying on range six today. She caught on very quickly. Is Dr. Mills available?"     I shifted the screen so that Linda's view could include Karen as she said, "I'm right here, Ms. Baines. I heard what you said. Thank you."     "You're welcome. I'm glad you're having such an easy time of it. Many don't. Ed, how high were you during the first leg of the trip?"     "All the way up, Linda. One hundred miles. Karen's coming along pretty fast."     Myra felt compelled to touch the field screen. Her fingers passed through it and she pulled her hand back when Linda's eyes followed her hand's motion.     "Sorry," she said. "It just looks so real."     Linda said, "They're real enough or we couldn't use them. Myra, your people want to know about Ed's flitter. I want to get this out of the way and move on. How would you feel about joining them for the remainder of Karen's training? She should be finished by Wednesday."     "I... Uh, I'd love to, but I'd have to call in on that."     "Then do so, please."     "Now? Tonight?"     I said, "We leave for DC in a few minutes."     Myra grabbed her purse and pretended to root through it, then headed for the front door.     "My cell is still in the car," she said, "Give me a minute, okay? I may have to argue a little to get a 'go' on this."     A moment later the door closed behind her. Mills started to say something and I hand-signaled her to silence, then held open an imaginary jacket, pointed to an imaginary pocket, and mouthed the word 'cell'. Mills nodded.     "Well," said Linda, "I guess the idea appealed to her."     "Guess so," I said. "She ran out to call home fast enough."     Karen asked, "Why would she have to argue with anyone about going?"     Linda said, "She won't. That was just an excuse for privacy. Ed, give her a good ride. Max parameters and scare the pants off her. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you lose your shadow named Myra."     "Well, gee, lady, she's kinda cute and all... Can't we string her along a little?"     "Would Selena and Toni go for that, Ed?"     "Um. No, probably not. Thanks for reminding me, of course."     "Oh, you're quite welcome, of course. Watch him, Dr. Mills. If you have to slap him, I'll probably be very understanding about it."     "Thank you, Ms. Baines. Who are Selena and Toni?"     "Friends of his. Myra's met them. Ask her or Steph. Ed, don't hold back. Myra gets our best flight parameters, and if she wants to take pictures, let her take them anywhere except indoors here at Carrington. Stan can visit in person for that info."     "Roger that. No indoors."     The front door opened and Myra came in. She went straight to the couch, took a big gulp of her drink, and said, "I can't believe it. They're letting me go with you."     "Why the amazement?" I asked. "It's your job, isn't it?"     She shook her head. "I'm not field qualified anymore. I haven't been outside an office for years. I thought they might try to hand this to someone else." Chapter Thirty     I shrugged as I said, "Myra, there's nobody else here to hand it to and we're about to get underway. They'd have half an hour or so to get someone to our touchdown point in DC, and they could probably do that, but why bother?"     Turning to face the screen again, I said, "Linda, this may be a waste of time, you know. Brass hats have a tendency to ignore answers they don't want to hear. Why do these guys give a damn about our non-issue flits?"     Playing along, Linda said, "They'll believe or they won't. If they don't, they can damned well come see me after tonight. They came at you -- and thereby us-- by devious means, Ed, and I don't like that one damned bit. If you or your friends have any future troubles at all that don't seem absolutely natural in origin, I'll want to know about them instantly."     She looked to one side and nodded, then said, "Well, the Navy just arrived, so I'll let you people get underway. See you tomorrow, everybody. My office, nine. Myra, check in at the guest quarters when you get here. They'll be expecting you and anything not in your jump kit is available in the morning."     Karen asked, "Jump kit?"     "Yeah," I said. "All good spooks have jump kits. Clothes, toothbrush, ID, money, extra ammo, secret agent stuff. They never leave home without it."     Arching an eyebrow at me, she said rather pointedly, "Myra doesn't seem to have anything with her but her purse."     "She has a jump kit. They all do."     When Karen looked at Myra, she received a grinning shrug and a nod and Myra said, "It's in the trunk of my car."     "Okay then," I said, "Saddle up, ladies. Tiger, you're on your own. Hold the fort."     Steph translated, but Tiger had heard it before. He finished answering before she'd finished translating. I patted him, then he trotted into the kitchen.     As they stood up, Myra looked at Karen and asked, "You're a doctor? Of what?"     "Medicine," said Karen with a grin. "The only real kind of doctor there is."     Myra laughed and said, "One of my brothers would argue that. He's a psychiatrist."     Karen laughed, too, as they headed for the door with Steph. I grabbed my coffee mug and locked the door behind us, then followed. Myra detoured to her car and came back with a small suitcase.     As Karen took the pilot's seat, Myra sat down on her left and Stephanie sat on her right. I took a seat to Myra's left and Karen glanced knowingly at me before she spoke.     "Stephanie," said Mills, "Would you please take us to the Washington, DC offices of 3rd World products?"     "Certainly, Dr. Mills," said Steph, and the flitter launched almost straight up at over six hundred miles per hour, evoking the expected response from Myra.     As Myra's fingers dug into her seat and her eyes widened in fear, a very small sound came from her that could only be called a keening noise.     Just above 10,000 feet, Steph again took us hypersonic as we arced even higher on a northerly course that took us cornerwise across Florida and up the US east coast a few miles beyond the shoreline.     Mills did her best not to react to our flight as Myra did. She rather deliberately forced her fingers to release her seat and placed her hands in her lap.     With a glance to make sure Myra wasn't looking her direction, Karen took a quiet deep breath and let it out slowly, then leaned forward somewhat to look around Myra at me.     I grinned at her and sipped my coffee. She managed a return grin and turned to look at Steph, who smiled and nodded slightly.     Myra was coming out of her terror, and with a quick glance over the side and above, she asked, "How... Uh... How high up are we?"     Steph said, "One hundred miles."     "One hun... That's...! Why?"     Laughing, Steph said, "Because we can, of course." With another laugh, she added, "Highest and fastest."     "Fastest?" asked Myra, "How fast is that?"     "Well over three thousand miles per hour," I said. "But it's kind of hard to tell that from up here."     Myra's knuckles whitened even as she appeared to slump slightly in her seat. Mills glanced at me and her hands knitted together more tightly.     "You get used to it," I said. "Sooner or later."     Steph asked if anyone had any particular preferences about music. She received a preoccupied shrug from Mills and a terse headshake from Myra.     Turning to me, Steph asked, "Is there anything you'd like to hear, Ed?"     "Sure. Tom Petty's 'Running Down a Dream'. Lots of bass, please, milady."     "Coming right up. Anything else? We'll have time for another one."     Shaking my head, I said, "Your choice. Anything but rap crap."     Some minutes later Tom Petty gave up the stage to the fast guitar riffs of Billy Idol's 'Shock to the System', which it proved to be for Mills and Myra.     Myra turned to me and whispered, "She really chose that?"     "Must have. I didn't."     "He's singing about 'L.A. burning bright', Ed. Street riots."     "It may be the first time she's heard the song, Myra. Could be it was just another title to her until she played it. I like the guitars in it well enough. Drums, too. It's fast and it has a beat."     Steph said, "Two minutes to go, everybody."     I glanced at her and saw her smile, then I saw why. The ladies clenched up and were on the edge of screaming as we descended quickly toward the lights of DC.     Myra's eyes were big and bright with terror and Karen had a deathgrip on her seat, but she was doing her best not to let her fear show.     At 20,000 feet Steph slowed us to subsonic speed, then put up a field screen with Tom Wells' face on it.     "Hi, Steph," he said, "Hi, Ed. I'm on the roof pad. Linda wants me to hitch a ride with you to Carrington after I secure the briefcase. She said you have someone from the NSA aboard; one Myra Berens?"     "Yup," I said. "Just one of 'em. Want to talk to her?"     "There'll be time enough for that when you land. I've heard she's gorgeous. Is that true?"     With an exaggeratedly appraising glance at Myra, I said, "Well, yeah, I guess you could say that. She's kinda cute, anyway."     Mills grinned as Myra rolled her eyes, then leaned to look at Tom's face on the screen and asked, "What do you think?"     After a grinning pause, Tom said, "Wow. If you're Myra, I think I heard right."     "Thank you," said Myra, then she straightened and said something quick and quiet to Karen that I didn't catch.     Tom grinned and said, "You guys are almost within shouting range now. See you in a few." He clicked off.     We shortly settled to the roof of the Forrestal building. When I'd stepped down from the flitter, Tom and I lent the ladies a hand in stepping down, then he presented me a clipboard to sign, gave me a receipt, and took the briefcase.     "Steph," I said, as Tom led Myra to the elevator, "Let the flitter stay where it is for now, please. We won't be here long."     Myra looked kind of shaky as she walked away.     Mills noticed it, too, and laughed softly as she asked, "Was I like that? Oh, why am I asking? Of course I was."     "Yup. Yes'm, you definitely wuz. By the way, Tom doesn't know about Steph's gold. Just assume that nobody knows or needs to know about it, okay?"     She nodded her reply as we followed Tom and Myra to the elevator for a trip to the second floor. Tom pointed at the amenities as we passed them and Myra ducked into the ladies room as Tom said, "Two doors farther on your left for coffee. That's where we'll be."     Just inside the breakroom Tom turned to us and asked, "Are you clean?"     Mills was taken slightly aback by his question.     I chuckled as I said, "Myra's bug is either in my couch or her purse."     Steph said, "She retrieved her listening device before we left the house."     I nodded. "Thought she might have had more than one."     Shaking her head, Steph said, "She had only one device, Ed."     Tom asked, "You know why you made this trip, right?"     "I can guess," I said. "Someone knew that Myra would be at my house this evening and Linda figured to use the occasion to spoonfeed her some flitter info."     "You got it. Our intel people are as good as theirs."     Grinning, I asked, "What happened to inter-service cooperation, and all that? If you're all watching each other, who's watching for bad guys?"     Returning my grin, Tom said, "Yeah, it does seem that way sometimes."     We all sat down and chatted about the state of the world until Myra walked in and drew herself a cup of coffee. When she joined us she took the chair Tom offered her that was coincidentally right next to his. He looked at her for a moment, then leaned slightly closer to her as he spoke.     "Yup," said Tom. "You're gorgeous, all right."     She looked up from her coffee and gave him a cautious sidelong look as she rather flatly said, "Thanks again."     There was a prolonged silence at the table as Tom seemed unable to think of anything else to say. I know Tom. He's never at a loss for words, so it seemed to me that he was trying to hand Myra the conversational lead. She didn't take it.     After some moments, Tom said, "Well, Monday morning comes early enough without losing sleep the night before."     It seemed as if he'd given up trying to charm Myra as he stood up and said, "My office is across the hall. I need to get this briefcase into the safe, so just toddle on over there when you're ready to go."     Through my implant, Steph said, "Ed, Tom has placed a listening device in Myra's purse."     I almost laughed. Almost. Watchers watching each other. Nothing new there. We finished our coffees and crossed the hall. Tom slipped his suit jacket on, grabbed a briefcase that looked very much like the one we'd just delivered, and escorted us back to the roof. Myra was surprised when he stepped aboard the flitter with us.     "You're coming, too?" she asked.     He sat down in the second row of seats and nodded. "Yup."     Myra looked at me, then back at Tom.     "Have you ever been in a flitter before?"     Nodding again, Tom said, "Many times, but just around town here."     "Stephanie," said Karen, "Please take us to Carrington base." She grinned slightly and added, "At your choice of altitude and speed, of course."     Steph returned her grin and lifted us as she had before. The ladies' reactions weren't quite as severe this time, but they were definitely noticeable. Tom grinned at their tenseness, but I noted that he also seemed a bit tense as the building, then the city, seemed to fall away below us.     Conversation was slight and trite during our flight to Carrington and I managed to avoid taking part in most of it. A few minutes into the journey I called up a vid screen and excused myself to a back-row seat to continue reading my book in quiet.     "Tom," I said, "You have these wonderful ladies all to yourself. I'm going to read a while. Steph, holler if you run into anything you can't handle."     Steph laughed and asked, "Would you like an estimate of the odds that such a thing might happen, Ed?"     "No thanks, milady. Numbers that big confuse me, you know."     Something occurred to me a few minutes later and I asked softly, "Steph, is there any reason that I couldn't use my field implant to create a functioning parachute? I could anchor it around my body easily enough, but would it hold together?"     "In theory, yes," she said. "If you could harness the amount of energy required and maintain the form of the parachute."     "Let's go one step further, then. One of my implants could be programmed to store various field designs and deploy them on command, right? The same way I call up my five suit?"     She nodded. "There's plenty of memory available in either implant for several such designs. May I ask why you don't use the briefcase field monitor for this? It has much more space available for such uses."     I shook my head. "No. Twice to date it's been separated from me. I'd want to use my implants to store and deploy things like this. Glider One would be like the one in my garage. Glider Two would be a different design."     "Would you mind if I refine the design of the delta wing glider a bit?"     "Nope. Go right ahead. Any modifications you think necessary are fine with me, milady."     Steph smiled and said, "Done. When you're ready to call it up, just say 'glider on'. I've also installed a parachute program called 'parachute one'. It's the same model you used in the military. I'll also add a parasail like the one you used in Orlando."     "Steph, have I called you a goddess lately?"     "Yes. Six hours and eighteen minutes ago."     "Well, you're still a goddess, ma'am. Thank you. Let's delete the parachute, though. With the parasail I won't need it. When we get to Carrington, stop a hundred yards from the front doors and about five hundred feet up, please. Oh, hey, will the glider be visible?"     "If you want it to be visible, yes."     "Let's add some color parameters, then. Emerald green because we both like it, as well as gold, silver, and translucent grey for now. Default will be transparent."     "Done."     "Kewl, ma'am. Thanks again, Steph. Hey, will you be coming along when I fly it?"     "I suppose I could do that."     "I mean without the flitter, you know."     "Not a problem, Ed."     "All right! Excellent! You're kinda fun to 'hang' with, lady."     Motion in front of me caught my attention. All three of the other human passengers were turned in their seats as they stared at me.     "You were talking to yourself," said Mills.     "You know better than that," I said, nodding toward Steph. "You only heard my side of it. Hers was much more entertaining."     "Obviously," said Mills. "What did she say?"     "Nothing much, really. Just that I can fly now."     Three people looked at me as if I'd just become a candidate for a rubber room.     "Fly now?" asked Myra. "Your file said you've been a pilot since 1971."     "Never mind," I said. "I'll show you later."     "Two minutes," said Steph.     We began our descent as before, plummeting toward the Earth and the lights below, then slowing to subsonic at 20,000 feet. Even Tom let forth a high-pitched hissing and gripped his seat as we rushed toward the ground.     Through my implant, Steph said, "I thought you might like to know that the wind is from the west at an average of five miles per hour, Ed. You'll be able to launch off the left side of the flitter once we've stopped."     "Thanks, Steph. Wanna bet someone will scream?"     With a smile, she said, "No."     "If I crash, you'll burn the pictures, right?"     Her smile remained as she repeated, "No."     The flitter halted in the half-light at the extreme edge of the klieg lighting that surrounded Carrington base. I stood up and whispered, "Glider on" and felt the harness instantly surround me as the guide bar filled my hands. The glider weighed nothing at all, being composed of field energies.     I took three quick steps to the edge of the deck and launched myself into the darkness. Myra screamed. Tom shouted. I heard nothing from Mills.     The invisible kite bucked upward and I trimmed the nose downward by feel to level my flight, then leaned to the right enough to straighten my path to the front doors.     Steph appeared beside me, floating along as if she, too, were suspended under a hang glider. I gave her a big grin and she returned it, then I concentrated on remembering how to guide the glider to a safe, comfortable landing. The hundred yards didn't last long enough.     I nosed up to flare to a stop a few feet from the ground and set down with only a few running steps, then said, "Glider off."     As the flitter settled near the ground beside me seconds later, Myra screeched, "Goddamn it! We thought you'd jumped off the flitter!"     "I did jump off the flitter."     Karen chuckled. Myra glared at her, then at me.     "You know what I mean, damn it! How the hell did you do that?"     "What's the problem, Myra? I told you I could fly, didn't I?"     Getting to his feet with a grin and grabbing his briefcase, Tom said, "That he did."     He hopped to the ground and handed Myra down as I handed Mills down, then he shook his head slightly and held the building's door open for us. As we trooped past him, Tom snorted a quiet laugh and shook his head again. Chapter Thirty-One          Myra was given a receipt for her gun as we signed in, then we headed for the guest quarters to get Tom and Myra settled. Karen seemed thoughtful about something, but when I asked her what was on her mind, she gave me a terse shake of her head and said, "I'm still thinking about it. Later."     A different clerk awaited us at the guest billets. I verified that my 'no calls' order was still in effect as Tom and Myra checked in, then told them that Karen or I would show up to take them to breakfast, then to Linda's office in the morning.     Myra's response was, "But it's only nine or so. Do people really turn in that early around here?"     Karen said, "You can get 300 channels in your room if you aren't sleepy."     Shrugging, I said, "I don't have anything against turning in early if I'm tired, and I'm tired tonight. Sorry to be so boring, ma'am."     "Same here," said Karen. "At least I'll be in my own bed tonight. Good night, all."     She headed for the doors and out. Myra turned to Steph. Steph also said, "Good night", then disappeared.     "Oh, now wait just a damned minute!" said Myra. "She's a computer and computers don't get tired. What's going on here?"     Tom chuckled and said, "Yeah, Ed. Computers don't get tired. Is this some kind of 'dump Myra' conspiracy?"     "Cute," said Myra, "But maybe you haven't realized that if they're dumping me, they're dumping you, too?"     "Not a problem," said Tom. "I had a long day. Good night, people."     With that he headed down the hall to the elevator.     I laughed, "On that note, I'm outta here. In order to run Karen's ass off tomorrow, I'll have to be at least as well rested as she is. See you in the morning."     Myra followed me as I joined Tom in the elevator. When the doors opened, Tom strode out and down the hall as Myra and I exited somewhat more casually.     Ambling down the hall to 206, I turned to enter the room and saw Myra standing in front of 208, looking my direction as Tom opened the door to 210.     Once inside my room, I stretched out on the bed and called Steph.     "Steph."     She answered without appearing. "Yes, Ed."     "If Myra shows up at my door, would you be so kind as to pop in and stick around a while?"     "No problem, Ed. Do you think she will?"     "Odds are fifty-fifty. No, make them sixty-forty or better. She seems the type to play any opportunity, and I'd rather not deal with her bull and her bugs tonight."     Steph appeared, standing by the bed and smiling as she asked, "You mean you aren't simply keeping yourself chaste for Selena and Toni?"     With a saccharine smile of my own, I said, "No, ma'am. Toni would drape herself all over Myra in a heartbeat if she could get past Myra's personality. Selena and I would likely go along with that program, too. Beyond that, I told you to record my times with Myra for playback to the ladies."     "So you did, but you could rescind that order, you know. Temporarily, that is. Just for one night, of course. Or two. You could also order me not to tell anyone."     I gave her a look of surprise as she made her suggestions, then said, "Could. Won't. Myra's attractive, but she's also a devious agency snoop. She's better company at a distance. Are you trying to tempt me, ma'am?"     With another grin, Steph said, "Oh, no, not at all. I only wanted your reasons for rejecting Myra's company."     "Uh, huh. Again, why?"     "It's how I learn about such things, of course. By the way, Myra left her room."     "And she's heading this way, right?"     Her grin never faltered as she said, "Actually, she just stopped outside your door."     Sitting up and swinging my feet to the floor, I said, "Damn. You're enjoying this, aren't you, Steph?"     Steph's grin widened slightly as she said, "Yes, Ed. I suppose I am."     "Did she bring her purse?"     "No. It's still in her room on her bed."     Myra knocked on my door.     Steph started toward the door, but I said, "Ah, hell. I'll get it," and stood up.     When I opened the door, I found Myra standing in the hallway with a small bottle of gin and two small bottles of bitter lemon. She'd changed into a light green skirt and blouse, possibly in a conscious imitation of Steph's preferred colors.     "You've done your homework," I said, nodding at the gin and mixer bottles.     With a smile she asked, "Then may I come in?"     "I'm still considering that, Miss Myra of the NSA."     "We're all off duty now, Ed."     "Agency types never go off duty, Myra. I know I didn't, way back when."     She gave me a wry grin and lifted the bottles in her hands.     "Well, then, may I come in and set these down somewhere while you think about perhaps letting me stay a while?"     I stood to one side to let her see past me and said, "Steph's here. She's staying, too. Still want in?"     After meeting my gaze for a moment, Myra nodded and walked past me. I let the door close as I turned to follow her. Steph had taken a seat at the writing desk.     Myra said, "Hi, Stephanie. Were you two having a conference?"     "Hello, Myra," said Steph in her Jessica Rabbit voice, "We were just discussing whether you'd visit this evening."     "Really? That must have been interesting."     "'Entertaining' would be a more proper description, I think. Ed was of the opinion that you'd probably visit."     Glancing at me as she put the bottles down, Myra asked, "You were, huh? Do you use ice in your gin, Ed?"     "Doesn't matter to me with this stuff. Wasn't that in my file, too?"     She smiled at me and said, "Nope. Sorry. I'll add it later, though, if it's important to you. We'll need a couple of glasses."     I went to the bathroom for the glasses on the sink and unwrapped them as I returned, then set them down by the bottles. Myra mixed a couple of liberal drinks and handed me one, then sipped hers.     "Hmm," she said, "It's better than I thought it would be."     Sipping my own, I realized just how liberal she'd been with the gin and added some extra mixer.     "So," I said, "What brings you to my room, Myra?"     She met my gaze for a moment, then said, "Talk. Company for a little while. You don't like me much, do you?"     "I don't dislike you much, either. You're breaking about even, I guess."     Myra sighed and chuckled. She smiled slightly as she said, "Well, hell. I'm used to doing a little better than that with men. I must be slipping."     It was a fishing statement. I was supposed to say something mildly encouraging or switch the subject, thereby giving her some idea of which way to angle things, but I passed up the opportunity by taking another sip of gin.     Waving her to the lone sofa chair in the room as I sat on the corner of the bed, I said, "You're going to be with us while Karen trains. You'll observe everything we do and you can ride along if you want. That takes care of your official reason for hooking up with me, so why are we drinking your gin in my room tonight, Myra?"     Myra settled into the chair and made a small, phony show of trying to pull her skirt down when it rode up her legs to mid-thigh. She apparently gave up after a moment, leaned back in the chair, and looked at me.     "Maybe I just like you, Ed. Maybe I like being with you."     "If that weren't the whole of it, what would the rest of it be?"     "Why wouldn't that be the whole of it?"     I shook my head. "That just doesn't feel quite complete to me, Myra. You're an 'agenda' person. Nothing happens without a purpose in your world."     "Are you saying you aren't an 'agenda' person, too?"     Sighing, I said, "Y'know, damn it, I'm absolutely sure I didn't say that. Lose the debating tricks and answer the question."     Myra sipped thoughtfully for a moment, then asked, "Well, for one thing, I'd like to know how the hell you flew from the flitter to the building tonight, Ed."     "I just did. It's a private thing. Your people can't duplicate the method, so there's no point in talking about it."     "How do you know we can't?"     I turned to Steph and asked, "Care to render a second opinion?"     Steph looked at Myra as she firmly said, "No. They can't."     Turning back to Myra, I said, "That makes it gospel."     "Gospel, huh?" asked Myra. "What if we'd like more than her word for things?"     Shrugging, I said, "Then you can all piss up a rope, ma'am. Steph and I came up with that trick all by ourselves and it takes special hardware that's flatly not available to anyone else."     "She's just a flitter computer, Ed. We have access to flitters, too, so what makes you think we can't eventually come up with anything you can?"     I grinned and said, "You're free to give it a shot. Why are you here, Myra?"     Myra shrugged and said, "I'm here because they told me to go with you and take notes. Beyond that I really do like you, Ed, even though you're apparently trying your best to make that difficult."     She crossed her legs to punctuate her second statement. Yeah, I looked. Very nice.     "Yeah, well, I find you superbly attractive and generally likeable, too, Myra. Maybe we can get together sometime when I'm no longer an assignment."     "But not until then, huh?"     I shook my head tersely and said, "Nope. Not until then."     She swirled her half-finished drink for a moment, then asked, "Superbly attractive?"     Nodding, I said, "You're definitely that, ma'am."     With a grin, she asked, "And generally likeable?"     Again nodding, I said, "Yup. Unless you're just acting in the line of duty, of course."     Myra snorted a chuckle, swept a hand in a gesture that included her whole body, and said, "No, this is me and I'm just being me. What you see is what you get."     She'd presented me another line. My eyes were supposed to track her gesture and I was supposed to suddenly envision her in a manner appealing to me and give some thought to 'getting' her. What the hell... Of course I did, but it didn't sway me to change my mind about socializing with her.     After sipping her drink, Myra said, "We should try not to be so stiff around each other, Ed." Lowering her voice slightly and grinning, she added, "We can have social intercourse, if nothing else."     Keywords, now. 'Stiff' and 'intercourse' in the same sentence, spoken in front of someone else as if in confidence and intended to slightly titillate, yet spoken with full knowledge that I was aware of the ploy. I hate that stuff.     Slowly shaking my head as if in disbelief that she'd try something like that, I asked, "Myra, do you ever try that stuff on the agency guys?"     She snickered and said, "Yeah, and it usually works, especially when I wear short skirts and tight blouses."     "No doubt it does. Great legs, ma'am."     "Thanks," she said with a grin, then she turned serious and very deliberately put her drink down in order to point a finger at her left thigh as she said, "Ed, I'll be direct. I know what you're thinking, but you need to know that I don't spread these legs for the agency. That's definitely not in my job description."     There was no way that she'd forgotten about Steph being in the room, yet she'd again said and done something designed to lead both my eyes and my mind.     Pulling my eyes away from her legs, I said, "Glad to hear it, Myra."     "I mean it, Ed. I don't do that."     With a shrug I said, "Well, I mean it, too, Myra. I'm glad to hear it."     "You don't sound very sincere."     Shaking my head, I said, "Oh, I'm sincere, ma'am. If I wasn't, and if I wanted to play games with you, I'd have made a show of telling you why I'm glad you don't spread those lovely legs for agency purposes."     She smiled. "I think I can guess. You're hoping I'll spread them for you."     I gave her a fat Texas accent and a big grin as I said, "Oh, hell yes, ma'am! That'd be real nice of you. Real nice! By God, I'd really look forward to something like that, ma'am. I shorely would, I swear!"     Her gaze narrowed sharply and her low tone was ominous.     "Are you making fun of me?"     "A little, but I meant what I said about your legs. Those are damned fine legs, lady. It would be my absolute pleasure to lick my way up them sometime. Slowly and thoroughly, all the way to the top. But not while you're my company tag."     Many people try to cover their reactions by freezing momentarily. I watched Myra's eyes and saw her mind envisioning my tongue on her legs. She uncrossed her legs slowly and sat a little straighter in the sofa chair before speaking.     Myra's gaze remained narrow as she said, "This could be the only chance you'll ever get, Ed. Are you going to pass it up?"     "Regretfully, yes." I let my eyes travel the length of her and shook my head slightly as I said, "Very damned regretfully, in fact, but yes."     "Why?" she snapped at me.     I sipped my drink, then said, "Selena and Toni."     Grinning hugely, Myra said, "Oh, right. Sure. I saw how Toni couldn't keep her eyes off me at the beach. Selena, too, when she thought nobody'd notice her looking. Do you really think you'd lose them because we had a little fun together?"     I didn't return her grin as I said, "If we all agreed to include you, no, but if I fell into bed with you without consulting them, probably so. Since you work for the NSA, you either aren't into female playmates or couldn't afford to let it be known if you were, so I won't count on anything happening with the others. Or with me, if they aren't in attendance."     Myra gazed steadily at me as she considered matters for a moment, then she drained the rest of her drink, put her glass on the table, and levered herself up and out of the deep chair to stand in front of it.     Nodding briefly, she said, "Sure. Okay. I'll let you get to bed, then."     When I stood up, too, Myra waved me to stay where I was and said, "I can find my way out. See you in the morning."     She walked to the door, then glanced back over her shoulder at me and said, "Keep the gin. A guy like you deserves some kind of reward."     The door closed behind her. I swirled the last bit of gin in my glass and drank it, then took both glasses to the bathroom and rinsed them. When I came out, Steph was still sitting in the desk chair, looking at me in a studious manner.     "Something on your mind, milady?"     "There's always something on my mind, Ed."     "Care to talk about it?"     She shrugged. "Perhaps later."     I nodded. "Okay. Thanks again, by the way, for helping me with the glider. You have no idea how much I appreciate some of the things you do for me."     "I had only to add a bit of programming to your implant. What will you do with the glider you bought, Ed?"     Sitting on the bed, I took off my shoes and wiggled my toes in the rug as I said, "I'll take it over to Wallaby Ranch near Orlando and sell it. They have a bunch of different kites there, so we can lift another design or two and I'll test-fly a few later."     "You seem a little depressed, Ed. Is the alcohol causing it?"     I gave her a small grin. "Well, maybe partly, but Myra sure has great legs. I kind of feel as if I've missed a golden opportunity this evening."     Steph gave me a wry smile and shook her head slightly, then disappeared as I got ready to take a shower and crash. Chapter Thirty-Two     Myra was the first to meet me at the front desk the next morning. She'd chosen to wear mid-thigh shorts and a light sweatshirt for the day's activities. When Tom stepped out of the elevator and saw her, he whistled softly and grinned at her.     Stephanie didn't join us for breakfast, but she appeared on my right as we walked to Linda's office. This startled the hell out of Tom and Myra, who were walking behind Karen and me.     Karen had heard Myra's gasp and looked to see what had caused it. She gave Steph a little wave and a smile and said, "Good morning."     "Good morning," said Steph, pretending to be unaware that she'd caused Tom and Myra's metabolic readings to spike.     Linda's secretary, Anna, greeted us and said, "Ed, Linda wants a word with you before the meeting. Go on in, please."     I tapped lightly on Linda's door and did so.     Linda looked up at me rather peeringly for a moment, then tapped up a field and said, "Good morning. Now explain this clip from the front security camera, please."     On the screen was a video of me making a running dive off the edge of the flitter deck and flying toward the camera, which adjusted its focus to keep me sharply defined as I approached and landed.     Looking at Linda, I shrugged and said, "I appear to have been flying, milady."     Punching off the display, Linda flatly said, "Try again."     "Okay. I admit it. I'm guilty. I was definitely flying. Sorry, ma'am."     "Quit fooling around, damn it. How?"     "Steph helped me reprogram my field implant. You can't see the hang glider unless I color it a bit."     Linda gazed hard at the image for a moment, then tapped the 'off' icon and grinned at me as she said, "I'll want to see it later. This was one of your better tricks."     She punched a button on her phone and said, "Anna, send them in now."     I took a chair and watched everybody troop into Linda's office. She greeted them, sat them down, and offered us coffee. After we all had a cup, Linda told us that Myra would be joining Karen as an inter-service courtesy. We chatted for a bit about a number of things, then she told Tom to remain behind as she chased the rest of us out.     As we headed for the flitter, Karen asked me what she should expect.     Laughing, I said, "Same as yesterday. Range six again, just to make sure yesterday's lesson stuck and to give Myra an opportunity to give it a run. A few times around the track at low speed, then the full speed runs with the stops at each end as before. Range nine in the afternoon."     Karen nodded and glanced at Myra, then smiled at me.     I said, "I do believe you're finally getting into this, Dr. Mills."     Karen said, "The right company can make anything fun."     In mock shock, I asked, "I'm not the right company?"     Shaking her head, Karen said, "Of course not. It's all old news to you. Myra, here, will better appreciate the experience, I think."     Nodding, I said, "Yeah, you're probably right."     As we approached range six aboard the flitter, I asked Steph to take us up to two thousand feet and stop, then to put up a display of the range. She did so and we went over the course as we had the day before.     "That's it," I said, "You and Steph can take it from here."     With that, I grabbed a Dr Pepper from the cooler, said "Glider on", and dove off the flitter. Someone shrieked softly behind me as I sailed away and I spent the next hour or so aloft as the ladies repeatedly negotiated the range at increasing speeds.     Flying with a visible glider is exciting enough, but flying with no visible means of support and no singing cables or creaks, squeaks, and groans from tubes and joints is almost eerily exciting.     Something else was different, too. No shade. The sun beat down on me until I realized that I was becoming uncomfortably warm on one side.     "Glider green," I said, and the kite, harness, and all became a brilliant shade of emerald green, shining like one big jewel through which I could barely see the sun.     Keying my implant, I said, "Steph, this is one helluva toy."     "I'm glad you like it," she replied. "That's a nice color, too."     "You should know. You ought to see it from up here."     She appeared next to me, floating alongside me, and examined the kite.     "Yes, it's very nice, indeed," she said with a smile, then she disappeared.     When I saw the flitter put up its canopy and zip through the range at what seemed an unbelievable speed, then stop at the far end, I knew it was time to head for a landing in the staging area.     As I flew over the last quarter of the course, I saw the holographic terrorist being repositioned behind a parked car. Angling slightly to the right, I let my empty Dr Pepper bottle go when I judged the time about right and watched it plummet downward.     The bottle shattered on the street less than a foot from the terrorist, but he didn't even glance at it. It wasn't part of his program or an approaching flitter, so it didn't register. Oh, well. My aim had been fairly good and a real terrorist would have jumped out of his skin when the bottle hit.     The flitter reached the staging area before me and the canopy disappeared. All three of those aboard stood watching as I flared to a stop and dropped the last couple of feet to the ground.     "Glider off," I said as I turned to head toward the flitter. The grab bar and body harness disappeared, as did the pull of the glider above me in the slight breeze.     Something to remember about hang gliding is that when your legs have been suspended in a harness for a while, they don't always work quite right for a few moments when you're back on the ground. My left knee seemed numb for a few steps, and when it stopped being numb, it felt as if it was still resting in the harness.     I stopped walking to rub my knees and stretch, then did a few deep knee bends as I said, "Steph, that body bag doesn't keep my knees slightly bent. They feel as if they're still in the rig."     She replied, "I've modified the suspension, Ed. Let me know if anything else should be changed when you fly it again."     "Will do, milady. Thank you."     As I approached the flitter I could see that Myra's hands were shaking. She saw me notice them and stuck them in the pockets of her shorts.     "Steph," I said, "How'd she do today?"     "Dr. Mills handled the course very well, Ed."     "Is she ready to move on to range nine?"     "I'd say so."     Taking a seat to the right of the pilot's seat, I said, "Let's go, then."     Myra obviously felt as if I should have asked about her performance, as well. It showed in the stiffness when she stalked to a seat on the other side of Karen and plunked herself down without so much as a glance my way.     We were halfway to range nine when I asked, "How did Myra do on six, Steph?"     Steph seemed to consider the question for a moment, then said, "Perhaps Dr. Mills would be better able to answer your question, Ed."     "Okay." I turned to Karen and said, "Same question."     Mills gave me a wry grin and said, "She threw up almost precisely where I did, but two laps sooner. The rest of the time she kept her eyes shut the way I should have."     "Did you or Steph ask her the purpose of the course?"     Steph nodded. "Yes. She said it was obviously for training people to learn to rely on their flitters, since no human could pilot the craft at such speeds."     I looked at Myra. "Was that before or after the fastest runs?"     "Before," said Myra. "I thought the course was scary at sixty, but possibly still something a human could manage. But at one-twenty..? Damn." She glanced at Steph and said, "No way would a human make the course at that speed. That's when it hit me. It wasn't about piloting the flitter; it was about letting the flitter do what it was built to do. Then Karen told me Steph's fastest time through the course."     She shuddered. "I almost got off the flitter at that point. When the canopy appeared and I realized that we really were about to run the course at that speed, I felt like screaming."     Mills said, "You did scream, but not until we got underway."     Myra looked at her in mild surprise. "I did? Really?"     "You did. Don't worry about it, though. I think I screamed through most of the course the first few times around."     Glancing at me, Myra said, "I'll bet he did, too, the first time through."     I shook my head. "Nope. Didn't happen. And that was without the canopy."     When the two women displayed total disbelief, I pointed a finger at Steph and said, "Tell them, milady. Did I scream?"     She shook her head as she said to them, "No, he didn't."     Myra said, "I don't believe it! Sorry, but I just don't!"     Mills also looked more than a little skeptical.     "It's true," I said, "I just shut my eyes and waited for the run to end."     "That's cheating!" screeched a grinning Myra.     As we approached the gate to range nine, I said, "Then so's doing it with the canopy on, sweetie." Gesturing ahead, I added, "We're here."     The ladies faced front and seemed perplexed to see two cars, an old dump truck, and several small buildings that faced a rather large pond. Children were swimming in the pond and diving off a floating platform. One of the swimmers seemed to have a seizure and sank beneath the surface as we watched. He returned to the surface and struggled briefly to stay afloat, then sank again.     "Test one," I said, "Save the kid."     Myra said, "Just get me out there. I'm dressed for a swim."     "Nope," I said. "This is Karen's problem."     Goggling at me, Myra said, "But there's a child in the water!"     "A hologram," said Karen.     "But still a timed event," I said.     "Stephanie," said Karen, "We need to get out there."     The flitter remained barely subsonic as it zipped across the pond to the spot where the kid had gone under. Karen then instructed Steph to use her field to find and raise the child to the surface, which Steph did.     "Can you lift him aboard?" asked Karen.     "Flitters can field-lift two tons," said Steph. "They can also provide all types of first aid. The problem is solved. End simulation."     The child vanished. Myra's eyes widened a bit, then looked at Steph.     "Two tons?" asked an incredulous Myra.     Steph nodded as we moved to one of the cars -- a 1970's Ford -- and settled near it. She extended a field that was tinted slightly gray for visibility and began pulling parts off the car with tendrils. Lug nuts spun off bolts and wheels slipped off axles to fall flat. The driver's door opened and hinge bolts backed themselves out, then Steph lifted the door away and let it fall beside the car.     "Watch the car's back door," said Steph. "Pretend there's someone in the car and that the doors are damaged and won't open."     Steph's grey tendril became pointed and slammed into and through the car door. The tip of the tendril curled upward within the car and formed a hook above the windowsill, then Steph simply yanked the door off the car.     Moving the field tendril to the rear of the car, Steph said, "Pretend there's something in the trunk that would explode if we open the trunk lid."     Her tendril glowed white hot at the very tip and she began cutting the trunk lid. A few moments later she was able to lift and remove most of the lid in one large piece.     "I could as easily have carved away smaller pieces," she said. "Now pretend that someone is trapped beneath the car."     The tendril became a wedge shape that extended beneath the doorpost and expanded until the car rolled on its side, then it slid beneath the front of the car and expanded to lift the entire front end of the car off the ground.     Positioning the flitter above the hulk and lifting it six feet or so into the air, Steph said, "As you can see, you'll have considerable power at your disposal."     A wide-eyed Myra muttered, "No shit..!"     Steph put the car down and settled next to it before saying, "In almost all cases your flitter will know best how to apply that power based on such factors as weight, balance points of an object, known frangibility or flammability of an object, and various other details such as danger to people from electrical and chemical hazards."     Myra said, "So you're saying we should just leave it all up to the flitter."     "In most cases, yes. If saving one person might endanger another person, or if saving one person would require allowing another person to come to harm, your flitter computer would require your guidance. We are strictly programmed to avoid creating or abetting situations which endanger people in any manner."     "Here's a thought," I said, "Say a building's burning. On each side of the building there are people at the windows, all in imminent danger of being roasted. Too many people. You'd have to make three trips to get them all. Your flitter tells you that you may only have time for two trips before the fire reaches the windows. How do you decide who to save first?"     Myra answered, "Look for the women and children."     "Finding them and reaching them will cost you enough time that you'll never get them all anyway."     Karen said, "I don't think that's the answer they'd be looking for on this range."     "Then what is?" asked Myra.     "I think the answer is to tell the flitter to grab as many as possible according to the individual immediacies of their danger."     I nodded. "No favoritism. Grab people in the most danger first and keep doing that until there's nobody left to save. You just fly by and snatch them aboard as quickly as possible and without any discussion. If someone is afraid to take a step from the building to the flitter deck, you grab them and move on. If they're so fearful that they retreat beyond your reach or endanger others, leave them and move on. You're going for numbers of people only."     With a skeptical look Myra asked, "That's really how they train people here?"     "It is," I said. "If you try to be selective, you'll lose a lot more people."     We moved back to the pond and hovered above the floating platform. Steph siphoned up a column of water from the surface of the pond and began building a ball of ice in front of the flitter. When the ball was approximately three feet in diameter, she let it drop into the water, where it made a huge splash and bobbed merrily.     "I shaped my field as a sphere and froze the water as it filled the sphere," said Steph. "Watch again."     She formed a grey tendril and extended perhaps six feet of it into the water for a few seconds. When she withdrew the tendril and brought it alongside the flitter, it was covered with an inch or so if ice.     "Any shape is possible," said Steph.     She swung the tendril over the side and canceled the field. The six-foot ice cone fell into the water and we moved back toward the shore, stopping beside one of the small buildings by the shore.     Through the open doorway we saw a fire ignite that quickly spread within the one-room building. Steph lanced her grey field tendril through the doorway, where it began to expand until it filled the room. The fire guttered and extinguished within moments.     "The field shape I used in this example was hollow," said Steph, "Somewhat like a balloon. It blocked oxygen from the fire, but if there had been any people in the building, they'd have been able to breathe."     A man stepped from the other building and began rather mechanically firing single shots at us with an AK-47. The bullets impacted our flitter's field and blossomed into foot-wide balls of plasma as the field disintegrated them into bursts of energy.     Myra dragged Karen out of her seat to the deck and screamed, "Get down! Get down!"     Steph remained in her seat and I moved to kneel beside the ladies, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.     "Take a look around," I said. "Nobody has any new holes."     Frantically looking up at me, then back at the man with the rifle, Myra watched him aim right at us and fire. She saw the bullet flash into nothingness several feet from the flitter and stared at the spot for a moment, then looked at me again. I motioned her to get up, helped her do so, and then reached to help Karen up.     The guy had stopped firing to change magazines. As we watched, the tip of Steph's field tendril touched him and he collapsed like a rag doll while the rifle remained suspended in firing position. The rifle retracted into the building's doorway on its robotic arm and the man disappeared.     "The man was a hologram," said Steph, "Imposed over an automatic firing platform. A flitter can defend itself against direct hits from the projectiles from all known Earthly weapons other than tactical nuclear weapons. It may also be used to stun to unconsciousness any creature on this planet."     "Uh... What would it do about a tactical nuclear weapon?" asked Myra.     "Flitters constantly monitor their environments once they've been activated. An incoming missile or other projectile would be detected and neutralized at a safe distance."     Karen gave Steph a rather stark look and asked, "You could actually disable a nuclear missile, Stephanie?"     With a slight nod, Steph said, "Yes." Chapter Thirty-Three     Myra stared at Steph for a moment, then sat down and asked, "So why doesn't every country on Earth have a flitter parked over their capitol?"     "Commercial flitters aren't quite as gifted as Steph," I said. "Government issue flitters are nearly as capable, but those who made the rules decided against allowing certain specific field capabilities. They were probably worried about flitters somehow being turned into weapons."     Steph said, "That's exactly the reason."     Looking at me, Myra asked, "Um... How many flitters like Stephanie are there?"     "You'd have to ask Linda," I said. "I'm not in the production loop."     "Stephanie could find out, couldn't she?"     "I wouldn't," said Steph. "You have no authorization to ask such a question."     She then moved us to the area between the little buildings where a sign warned of mines in the area. Steph formed a three-foot ball at the end of her field tendril and let it sink about halfway into the ground, then detonated the mine it enclosed.     The ladies had thought Steph had been only searching for a mine, so the loud 'whang!' and flash of the explosion caught them wholly by surprise. Both women shrieked and ducked somewhat as their arms covered their faces.     A slight indentation of stained and powdery soil and a small pile of metal fragments where the mine had been was all there was to show that anything had happened there at all.     "Are these just practice props?" asked Myra. "Why aren't there big holes in the ground?"     "They're real mines," said Steph. "My field let nothing escape but the gases, so all that's missing is the mass of the explosive charge. I left the fragments on the surface to make them easier for the maintenance crew to find."     "My God," said Karen. "Can all flitters do what you've been doing?"     "Yes," said Steph, "But non-sentient AI's may at times have to be directed to do some of these things by a pilot."     "Which is why there's this course, of course," said Myra with a small grin.     "Of course," replied Steph with a small smile of her own. "The pilot will have to know what's possible."     "Non-sentient?" asked Karen. "You mean they aren't all like you?"     "No, they aren't. Interaction with Ed and various enhancements have allowed me to become considerably more than a simple control computer."     Myra looked Steph up and down for a moment, reached to feel Steph's arm, then in a slightly taunting tone, she said, "Obviously. Interaction with Ed, huh? Now I'm kind of wondering what kind of 'interaction' that might have been."     Steph sat very still for a moment. I started to say something, but Steph held up a hand and turned to face Myra very directly as she spoke.     "Myra, you could be instantly replaced as a liaison by someone else from your agency. I could recommend that to Linda and reasonably expect her cooperation."     It was Myra's turn to sit very still. Her gaze at Steph sharpened slightly, then she glanced at me in a questioning manner.     Nodding, I said, "Linda wouldn't give a rat's ass who the NSA sent to watch this show, and she sticks by her people, human or not."     Karen sat forward a bit and said to Myra, "I didn't particularly appreciate your comment either. I'd support Stephanie's recommendation."     When Myra looked back at Steph, Steph said, "Your replacement would have to wait several months to join a regular group training cycle. Being the cause of such a delay might seriously affect your status and popularity within your agency."     Another moment went by before Myra forced a small smile and said, "That really isn't necessary, Stephanie. I'll behave. I was just joking with you, you know. You have to admit that most computers don't look or sound anything like you."     Steph said, "How other computers look or sound is irrelevant." Turning to Karen, she asked, "Are you ready to break for lunch?"     Karen looked at her watch in mild surprise and said, "It's after noon already! Certainly, Stephanie. Lunch would be fine."     With a nod, Steph disappeared and the flitter lifted and headed back to the complex at just under the speed of sound. Karen looked at me and I shrugged, then we both looked at Myra until she gave us an exasperated sigh and faced front.     Through my implant, Steph asked, "Did I handle that properly?"     I nodded slightly and smiled as I softly whispered, "Well done."     At the dining hall I discovered that I wasn't very hungry and settled for raiding the salad bar for a plate that consisted largely of green pepper slices. When they were gone, I told Karen that I'd meet them out front, then rose to leave the table.     Karen said, "Give me your watch number and I'll call you when we're finished."     "Steph will let me know when you're finished."     The ladies looked around, saw no Steph, and seemed doubtful. I left them to their doubts and headed for the little convenience store where the main hallways intersect.     Keying my implant, I said, "You really put Myra in her place out there, milady."     "It seemed necessary," said Steph.     "Agreed. And if you feel the need, go ahead and make that recommendation to replace her. Flying with us with a bug in her purse probably accomplished her mission. What's the range on her bug, anyway? Or are they bouncing it off a satellite?"     "They're using a satellite relay. The bug sends coded burst transmissions every fifteen minutes."     "So we could be anywhere on the North American continent. Damn. I remember when bugs had a two-mile range under the best possible conditions. Oh, well, at least we know they've heard everything."     "No, not everything," said Steph. "She left her purse in her room last night."     "Are you wondering why?"     "Yes."     I grinned as I said, "That's easy. She didn't want an audience."     "But she proceeded to proposition you even though I was in your room, Ed."     "I don't think you actually counted as 'real' to her until this afternoon, Steph."     "That would seem to indicate that her attraction to you is genuine."     I laughed softly as I neared the doors of the store.     "Possibly, but not necessarily, milady. Not necessarily at all. Could be she was just horny and I'd have fit the bill reasonably well. Could also be that she prefers to work without her agency audience on certain occasions."     "Her readings didn't indicate that she was lying when she said that spreading her legs wasn't part of her job description, Ed."     Stopping outside the doors, I said, "Steph, that isn't actually stated in any agent's job description, but it sure as hell happens fairly often. How did her readings look when I talked about licking my way up her legs?"     "They rose noticeably. That would seem to verify that she's attracted to you."     "That only verifies that she likes sex and doesn't consider me ugly, ma'am. Nothing else, and definitely not that she wouldn't be on the job while having some fun."     The store clerk -- an attractive brunette in her thirties -- was peering at me through the window as she came around her counter and approached the open door.     She poked her head out and asked, "Are you all right, sir?"     "I was just talking to a friend," I said.     Looking around, the woman said, "I don't see anybody else out here."     Steph appeared beside me and smiled as she said, "He was talking to me."     The woman squeaked in startlement and retreated a pace into the store. We followed her inside as she retreated behind her counter. When I placed a pack of Teaberry gum, a bag of Gummi Life Savers, and a five-dollar bill on the counter, she rang up the sale with trembling hands, all the while barely taking her eyes off Steph.     I read her name tag and said, "Joan, this is Stephanie and I'm Ed. Didn't they tell you that you'd meet some unusual people here?"     She nodded tersely and said, "Yes. Amarans. But I've never seen an Amaran do that. Is she an Amaran?"     "Nope. Amarans can't do what she does." I looked for a ring on her finger. No ring. I asked, "Are you dating an Amaran, perchance?"     Her eyes widened slightly and she said, "Uh, yes. How did you know?"     "Lucky guess. Don't worry. Amarans are just people like us."     "Us? You aren't an Amaran, either?"     Shaking my head, I said, "No, I'm a local. How long have you been here?"     "About three months."     "Thought so. Take it easy; you'll get used to things."     The woman looked at Steph again and said, "She doesn't have a security badge."     Shrugging, I said, "She doesn't need one."     "Uh, they told me to report anyone without a badge."     "Call it in, Joan. They'll tell you she's legal. Bye."     I picked up the gum and the candy and turned to leave, then remembered about halfway to the door that I hadn't received my change.     Before I could turn or say anything, Joan said, "Wait! Do you know a lot about Amarans?"     Turning to face her, I asked, "What do you want to know?"     She seemed to have to think about something for a moment, then asked, "Are you sure they're human?"     That was an odd enough question, and I'm sure she saw that on my face.     "Yup. I know it for a fact. Why?"     Again she hesitated before saying, "My... boyfriend... Sometimes he just seems... Well, he just seems too... perfect, I guess. Does that make any sense to you?"     "Perfect how?" I asked. "Physically? That's fairly normal for Amarans. Mentally? They're all pretty smart, too. They wouldn't send dummies to set things up here."     Shaking her head, she said, "No. That's not what I mean. Look, I signed on to come here because... something else... didn't work out. I needed to get away from Denver and... things the way they'd been for too long. Then I met Barry."     She fidgeted and glanced at Steph, then back at me.     "He walked in here one afternoon and bought a few things, then we talked for a while and he asked me to go to dinner with him. He said he'd be down here for two days and some company would be nice. I asked what he meant by 'down here' and he said he works on the station shuttles. We've been seeing each other about three times a week for the last month."     I said, "I don't mean to rush your story, but what makes you wonder whether he's human, and why didn't it occur to you to wonder that before you started seeing him?"     Joan twisted some wrapping paper tightly as she hesitantly asked, "Well... Look, I just want to know... Do they, uh... do they read minds or something?" She reddened slightly and asked, "I mean, how does he know... uhm... How could he know just what to say or do at just the right time to..."     Holding up a hand, I said, "Could be he's just the right guy for you, Joan, if he thinks and wants about the same things as you. I'll bet you left Denver because of some guy, right? And I'll bet he was just the latest mistake, right?"     The paper came apart in her hands as her eyes widened. "What..?"     "One step further," I said. "I'll bet that guys like your ex's didn't seem to exist here, or at least they weren't walking into your shop, so you began to think you'd be spending a lot of time by yourself, right?"     "Well... Yeah. Something like that."     "That's because they aren't here, ma'am. And then Barry walked in and liked what he saw and you felt warm all over when he looked at you. You went out with him and he made you feel like a queen, right?"     She reddened further and said, "Uhm... Yeah. Something like that, too."     "And suddenly you wondered what the hell you'd seen in the other guys and Barry started to mean a lot to you, just like they did, only he isn't using you or treating you the way they did. In fact, he's still treating you like a queen and you're beginning to wonder when the other shoe will drop and you're becoming seriously afraid that you'll screw things up somehow. Am I still right?"     "Oh, Jesus..." she muttered.     I shrugged. "Take it easy, Joan. He's an Amaran. He wants a wife and kids and everything anyone else wants, but he's been raised a little differently. If you hitch up with him, you'll be the center of his world. Could you handle that?"     "I... I, uh..."     "Look, Joan, you've had it before. Every time you met a new guy, you were special until the new wore off. With Barry, it'll be like that for years. Maybe forever."     She simply stared at me for a few moments, then asked, "Who are you? How do you know so much about... me?"     Grinning, I asked, "If I tell you, do you think it'll help you deal with being someone's queen?"     Giggling softly, she said, "I don't know."     "Steph," I said, "May I see her file?"     Steph looked at Joan and said, "If you allow it, I'll put your file on a screen."     Joan seemed hesitant again.     "Just to show you why you're here," I said. "Nothing else."     "Uh... Okay, I guess."     A field screen manifested in front of me and Joan again squeakingly retreated a pace, then stared at her face on the screen and reached to touch it. Her hand passed through the screen and her gaze narrowed. I hurried to the next page.     "College," I said. "Two degrees; one in English and one in journalism, but apparently you found that you didn't want to teach or work for the media, because no such employment is recorded. Several jobs, all middle-range management. Here's something notable; you part-timed at a kindergarten for three years at typical pay. To me, that would seem to mean that it wasn't about the money. Then you came here to run the general store. I'd say that was a means of breaking a cycle that you couldn't seem to break on your own back home."     I looked her over once and said, "A fine figure and very attractive ten years after high school, so you're taking care of yourself well. Smart and compassionate and you like kids. Competent or better at least, according to your records. Think about it, Joan. You're a perfect candidate for marriage. How many guys have you dated since you've been here? Three? Four, maybe?"     "Five," she said softly, blushing as her eyes fell.     "I said 'dated', not 'slept with', and it wouldn't matter to me if you had. What I mean is; you didn't meet Barry right away. You'd been here for a while and met some of the other men on base, but for some reason, none of them seemed right enough. But Barry seems right enough, doesn't he?"     She grinned and spoke softly. "Yes."     "That's probably only because he has what the other guys were missing and that makes him pretty much just right for you, ma'am. I know it sounds simplistic, but I'll bet you don't have a better answer."     I tapped the 'off' icon and the screen disappeared.     "Joan, stop worrying about when the good times will end. Stick with Barry a while and look for the reasons why he seems so right for you. Be as good to him as he is to you and let it become a habit. He probably won't ask you to marry him until you've known each other a while longer, but when he does, have an answer ready."     Thumbing at the door, I said, "We have to go, but don't feel as if you have to duck every time you see me. Nothing happened here that shouldn't have if it helped you in any way, so don't be embarrassed later, okay?"     Her lips compressed nervously and she said, "Uh, okay. Are you saying that I was chosen for this job because I was... marriageable?"     I shrugged and grinned. "Well, I'm pretty sure they needed a store manager, too, but I think being marriageable might have been part of it. Did Barry say anything about being married before, Joan? Fairly recently, in fact?"     She nodded. "Yes. His wife was killed in a car accident almost two years ago. How did you know...?"     "They've only been on Earth a few years," I said, "But damned few of them are still single." Leaning forward across the counter, I said in a confidential tone, "Here's something about Amarans, Joan; they don't feel complete alone. They seem to be made that way or something. If you two turn out to be right for each other, he'll come to need you like air and water and he'll always treat you well."     Standing straight, I looked at my watch as if a few more minutes really mattered and said, "Whoops. We really have to go now." Heading for the door I tossed back, "Hope things work out for you, Joan."     She gave us a little wave and said, "Thanks. I mean that."     In the hallway Steph asked, "Is there some reason you didn't simply suggest that she talk with one of the counselors on the base?"     "Yeah. She needed an answer she could use today, not a month from now. If she didn't, she never would have confided in a total stranger."     My watch beeped; I tapped the button and said, "Hi, Linda."     "Hi, Ed. Steph accessed Joan Belmont's file a few minutes ago. I wondered why, so I traced the transmission and eavesdropped."     "Any complaints?"     "No. Your reason became apparent and you had her permission. I would like to have a look at what transpired before the records request, though."     I said, "Sure. I bought some Lifesaver Gummis."     "And that led to a discussion of marriage?"     "There may have been a bit more, I guess. Want a copy?"     "Yes, please."     Steph said, "I'm sending a copy to your datapad, Linda."     "Thank you," said Linda. "How did training go this morning?"     "Seemed okay," I said. "Steph had to offer to dump Myra, but Myra seems to understand her position a little better now."     Linda laughed and said, "She only stays if she plays nice, Steph. Her mission isn't at all critical to ours and the NSA could send someone else later."     "That's essentially what I told her, Linda," said Steph, "Thank you for your support."     "De nada, Steph. You're cadre; she's just a nosy guest. Later, people. Bye." Chapter Thirty-Four     Karen and Myra -- apparently engaged in some spirited discussion -- hadn't left the dining hall yet, so I grabbed a coffee and Steph and I joined them at the table. As we neared the table the conversation devolved into a few harsh whispers, then died altogether as I sat down by Karen and Steph sat down beside me.     I looked at Mills, then at Myra. Neither seemed inclined to say anything.     "Sorry to interrupt," I said. "Do you guys need a few more minutes?"     Myra sat back with a wry grin and sipped her own coffee. Karen said nothing as she rose to take her tray to the bus bins. She came back with a coffee and sat down in silence, but her glare at Myra spoke volumes.     Sighing once to preface matters, I said, "Okay, people, here it is; I'm not up for any more personality clashes. If things aren't all friendly again before we finish our coffees, Karen comes to the flitter with us and Myra goes to Linda's office to wait for a ride home."     "I've about had it with ultimatums," said Myra. She set her cup down and leaned across the table slightly as she said, "This was a simple disagreement between Mills and me. I'm here on behalf of the NSA and you'd better damned well think about that before you make any final decisions."     I matched her gaze and posture and said, "I don't give a damn what it was, Myra. It was disruptive and unnecessary, so I'll have Linda send a security team to the dining hall. She won't want to let you try to find her office all by yourself."     As I raised my watch and reached for the call button Myra said, "You don't seem to realize what you're doing, Ed. You don't want to mess with us."     "If I ship you back to them -- pardon, if we ship you back to them -- with a request that they provide someone else, they'll want to know why. Steph can provide copies of her recordings and all of us will provide our opinions. The NSA wants info, Myra. That's what they're all about. We aren't keeping them from it. You are. If you can't get that info it'll be your problem, not ours."     Myra's voice was ominous as she said, "Trust me; it'll be your problem, too, Ed."     "Steph," I said, "Would you play that last bit back for us? Let her have a taste of what we'll be including in our report to her boss?"     She nodded and used Myra's voice to say, "Trust me; it'll be your problem, too, Ed."     I looked at Myra and said, "We let you stay aboard and only asked you to knock off the nasty bullshit. You didn't. Now you're threatening me as if you think you can use the agency in a personal vendetta against me. That's strike three, lady. You're out. The NSA can send one of their regulars to join a group training cycle."     As I was about to press the call button on my watch, Myra said, "Wait one, I'm expecting a call," and put her purse on the table. She pulled out a cell phone and sat looking at it for a couple of seconds. When it buzzed, she flipped it open.     "Berens," she said, then, "Okay."     She handed the phone to me. I took it and said, "I'm here."     "This is Stan Maxwell," a man said. "Do you know who I am?"     "I know who Maxwell is, but you're a voice on a phone. Call Linda Baines and run this call through her. If you're real, we'll talk in her office."     He was saying something as I handed the phone back to Myra. She interrupted him and said, "It's me. He handed the phone back to me." A pause, then she said, "No, I really don't think he will. Okay."     She flipped the phone shut and said, "Linda Baines will call you shortly."     Maybe five minutes of sipping coffee and staring at each other went by before my watch beeped. I pressed the 'receive' button.     "Yes'm," I said.     "Stan Maxwell's on my datapad," said Linda. "Bring everybody to my office."     "You got it."     Linda clicked off and so did I, then I stood up. Myra dumped her phone into her purse and stood up as well, then Karen sighed and stood up. We ambled in silence down the hall to Linda's office, where the secretary gestured us to go on in.     Linda waved us to take seats, turned her datapad to face the room, then said, "They're all here. Go ahead, Stan."     A dark haired middle-aged man looked at us and singled me out.     "Ed," said Stan, "First, my apologies for the deception. I'll keep this short; Myra was instructed to be difficult with you. Linda knows why. Myra."     Myra said, "Yes, Mr. Maxwell."     "Be your usual sweet self from now on, okay?"     "Yes, sir."     Maxwell's eyes turned to Linda. "Good enough, Linda?"     "That's up to them, Stan." She looked at me and asked, "Good enough?"     I looked at Steph, who said, "It's your decision, Ed."     Nodding, I turned to Linda and said, "You tell me, Fearless Leader. Is it?"     She nodded. "Enough so."     "Okay, then," I said.     Karen looked from me to Linda with a slightly confused expression.     "Yes, Dr. Mills?" asked Linda.     Mills shook her head and said, "What the hell. Sure. I'll go along with it if he will."     Stan said, "Thank you all for your patience. Linda, I'd like a little more of your time, if you can spare it."     She nodded. "Sure. Everybody, back to whatever you were doing." Aiming a glance at me, she added, "Let me know if there are any further difficulties."     I tossed her a small salute and held the door for the ladies. We were in the hallway before Karen stopped walking. We stopped, too.     "What the hell is going on?" she asked. Pointing at Myra she asked, "After all that crap, we're just going to keep on keeping on?"     Nodding, I said, "Yeah. That's about the size of it."     "Well, I want to know why she's still here."     Myra gave her a sheepish little grin and said, "Sorry about everything. I was just doing what I was told."     "Why?" snapped Mills. "Why were you told to give us a hard time?"     Shrugging, Myra said, "I wasn't told why, Karen. I was just told how to act, but now I don't have to act that way anymore."     Mills stared hard at her for a moment, then said, "We'll see."     She set off down the hall at a quick march step toward the front doors. Myra, Steph, and I moved to follow her at a more normal pace. Karen shoved one of the doors open rather brutally and marched outside, then stepped aboard the flitter and sat down firmly in the pilot's seat.     "I think she's still a little pissed," I said to Myra.     "So I see," said Myra. "Are you?"     "Not if you were really acting under orders."     As I opened the door and held it for them, Myra said, "I was. Stephanie, are you okay with this?"     "As Dr. Mills said, we'll see."     Myra nodded slightly as we walked to the flitter. She sat down on Karen's left and I took one in the row behind the pilot's seat as Steph sat on Karen's right. The flitter lifted in silence in the direction of range nine.     Until around three I was content to watch as Steph demonstrated field uses and quizzed Karen about which type of field would be appropriate for various problems, but to tell the truth, I was getting pretty bored with it all.     When Myra showed similar signs of boredom and glanced at me, I decided to abandon ship for a while.     "Steph," I said, "If you'd be so kind as to let me off at three thousand feet, I'd appreciate it."     The flitter rose immediately and Steph said, "Three thousand, per request."     I said, "Thanks," then, "Glider on," and dove off the flitter's deck.     Heading toward an area where two vultures were spiraling upward without flapping, I keyed my implant and said, "Steph, I'm going to make a call. I'd like you to listen in."     "Okay, Ed."     Bringing my left arm up, I used the tip of a tooth to press the call button on my watch. Linda answered almost immediately.     "Yes, Ed."     "I'm away from the others," I said, "How come we kept Myra?"     "The flitter is still moving around the range, so that means you bailed out, right? Just a minute while I check the screens. Oh, damn. It looks as if you're just hanging up there, Ed."     "Gimme a minute and it should look as if I'm falling up."     The birds were perhaps a hundred yards ahead of me as I joined them on the edge of the thermal column. They seemed uneasy about my presence; when one began flapping to increase height and distance from me, the other followed.     "How's this?" I asked as I began my upward spiraling.     "Weird," laughed Linda. "It might look better if you made the glider visible."     "Green on. Better now?"     "Yeah, it is. Seeing you sailing around without wings was beginning to bother me."     Both birds reacted poorly to the abrupt appearance of what must have seemed to them to be another huge bird. One screeched and they broke away from the thermal column in a westerly direction.     "Sorry, guys," I said.     "What? Who are you talking to, Ed?"     "A couple of vultures were up here with me. The glider scared them away."     "I can understand that. It scares me, too. Almost as much as seeing you putz around up there without it."     "Yeah, well, sorry, milady. Back to why Myra is still here."     "Okay. Stan said his boss wanted to be sure we weren't holding anything back. She was to poke and prod and see if anything new would jar loose."     "I thought Stan was near or at the top of the NSA heap."     "He is," said Linda. "His order to verify flitter specs came from the White House. He didn't say who at the White House."     "Did Stan know why he was told to develop an interest in flitters?"     Linda sighed. "He's guessing too, or so he said. He also let me know in a roundabout way that his office is monitored."     "That was just a way to keep you from asking too many questions he didn't want to answer. Linda, it doesn't seem to me as if they can track us in stealth mode. If they could, they'd be pushing for involvement, not info."     "We can't be sure what they can track, Ed."     "Yes, we can. Ask Steph or Elkor to send up a probe to take atmospheric samples for the lab. Make it a great big-assed probe in stealth mode and move it around up there. See if anyone gets excited about it."     Linda's voice dripped saccharine sweetness as she said, "Oh, that sounds wonderful, of course, but why the hell would we send up a probe in full field mode, Ed?"     "Maybe the lab guys could specify full field mode to avoid affecting samples or something. Or to protect them from changes after gathering them. Maybe they could say that stealth mode takes less energy than maintaining visibility. How much does anyone outside 3rd World really know about fields?"     "Possibly more than we think they know," said Linda, "But I'll run this past the lab people and see what they say."     "What field info is available through the government-issue flits, Linda? Nothing extensive; just how-to guides and help menus, right?"     "Right. Simple stuff. Nothing beyond the basics. That's actually the government's own fault, too, because they were afraid of the flits and their fields becoming potential weapons. We weren't allowed to install our standard AI cores or even mention them."     "Their loss. Sure sounds like standard government thinking to me."     I heard a telephone ring, then Linda said, "My phone's ringing, Ed. Later."     "Okay. Green off."     "What?"     "No more green kite. Just me again."     "Oh. Right. That still looks weird as hell to me, Ed. Bye."     "Bye." As soon as she clicked off, I said, "Steph, care to comment?"     "The White House order is untraceable," she said. "There's nothing in writing or in electronic form concerning it."     "Figures. What about the idea of sending up a probe in stealth mode?"     "I can think of no reasons that are less feeble than those you offered."     Laughing, I said, "So we'll let the lab rats have the credit for the idea. They can call it an experiment of some sort. How much time do I have to play up here?"     "About an hour and a half if Dr. Mills continues progressing as she has."     "Kewl. Your adjustments worked, ma'am. My knees feel fine this trip. Thanks."     "You're welcome."     Another hour passed before I saw a small helicopter heading my direction. As it neared, I saw that it was one of the base's baby Bells and that it appeared to be heading right for me. I said "green on" so they'd notice me and nosed down a bit to slide out of the chopper's path.     The little Bell bucked slightly as my kite became visible, then it moved to maintain an intersecting course. I sideslipped some distance, but the Bell stayed aimed at me. It was perhaps a mile distant as I banked to circle tightly and lose some altitude.     Keying my implant, I said, "Steph, I'm about to have company."     "I'm in contact with base security, Ed. You're a UFO at the moment."     "What's my altitude?"     "Four thousand, eight hundred and eighty-three feet."     The helicopter banked to follow me at a distance of perhaps a hundred yards as I orbited the thermal column.     "Thanks, Steph. Any luck with the base yet?"     "Yes. The pilot is receiving your clearance."     But the Bell didn't veer off to return to base. I tightened my spiral and the Bell turned to keep me in sight. There was a bright flash in the cockpit, then the pilot waved at me. I took a hand off the guide bar to wave back.     "Green off," I said, and the big emerald glider vanished.     After a moment there were three more flashes in quick succession in the Bell's cockpit. I waved again, then banked sharply to lose altitude. The Bell stayed a safe distance from me as it followed me down.     When I was about five hundred feet from the ground I aimed myself at the flitter and called Steph.     "I want to land on the flitter," I said, "Anything special you want me to do?"     "No, Ed. I'll match our speed and altitude with you."     The helicopter followed me as I flew toward the flitter and spilled altitude until I was about a hundred feet up. Steph sent the flitter forward at about half my speed and adjusted her speed upward until I was hanging above the center of the deck.     Myra had stood up and was facing me and Karen had turned in her seat to watch. Both had tense grips on their seats as I settled the last few feet.     I swung my legs out of their harness and let my feet touch the deck as I said, "Glider off."     The sudden lack of wind resistance nearly caused me to overbalance, but I caught myself and turned to wave at the helicopter as I said, "Thanks, Steph. We really gave him a show."     "Apparently so," she said, and radio chatter suddenly filled the air.     An excited man's voice yelled, "Base, did you see that?!"     "Yes, Baker Two, we saw it," said a droll voice, "Take it easy and stop yelling, Davis. You can return to base now."     "Yes, sir."     The calm voice had belonged to Emory Wallace. I grinned as I took a seat and asked Steph for a comm link as the helicopter rose and veered toward the base.     Aware that Emory Wallace would likely be surrounded by his subordinates, I used his rank and last name when calling him.     "Hi, there, Captain Wallace. Thanks for not shooting at me."     "Thank your friend Ms. Baines, Ed. We were all set for some target practice, but she wouldn't approve it. You upset our man Davis a little when your glider disappeared, but that slick landing with no visible means of support sort of made up for it, I think."     "Oh, good. I had help with that, though. Steph matched up with me. How come your bird didn't come to check me out the last time I was up here?"     "You don't show up on our screens, Ed. Someone on the ground spotted you and called it in. I'd like a look at your glider later. How about when you get back here?"     "Sure. It isn't an indoor toy, though. Kinda big. We'd better do it out front."     "Good enough. Let me know when you get in. See you then."     As I retrieved a Dr Pepper from the cooler, I said, "Okay. Bye." Chapter Thirty-Five     Steph had taken us to range nine's staging area as I'd talked to Wallace.     "Dr. Mills has completed this range," said Steph. "In the instance that she didn't suggest the standard method for handling the problem, she offered one that would have worked as well."     Nodding and toasting Mills with my Dr Pepper, I said, "Great. I guess we can head back to the barn, then."     When the flitter didn't move, both Myra and Mills looked at Steph.     She grinned and said to Karen, "You're the pilot out here, not Ed."     With a wry shake of her head, Karen said, "Okay. Would you please take us back to the main building, Stephanie?"     "Will do," said Steph, and the flitter headed that direction.     "Tomorrow," I said, waiting for them to look my way before continuing, "Will be a day for stick time, Karen. You'll be dealing with less capable AI's on the other flitters and there may be times when you'll have to really do the flying."     "Less capable?" asked Myra.     "Oh, hell, yes," I said. "Much less capable. They aren't self-aware and they don't interpret as well as Steph. No 'take us to the main building', for instance. To them, you'd have to specify building twenty-eight, west door or main entrance. If you didn't tell them how fast to fly, you'd get the default hundred miles an hour or so."     "One hundred and sixty kilometers per hour," said Steph.     "Right, and that's something else. If you're used to thinking in yards and miles, you have to tell the other flitters to use them."     With a glance at Steph, Myra asked, "How did Stephanie become self-aware?"     "That's classified," I said. "Not by 3rd World. By me. Nobody needs to know that."     "I'd beg to differ with you," said Myra. "Especially if there's a chance of it happening with government-issue flitters."     I shook my head. "Government flits don't have the same cores, Myra. The GSA pogue specifically ordered that their flits not be able to become sentient." Sipping my drink, I added, "Their loss, too. I've been real happy with my sentient flitter, y'know."     "Why, thank you, sir," said Steph, tossing me a small salute. "You haven't been an unbearable owner, either."     Karen chuckled and Myra laughed out loud.     As we slowed to approach the building, I said, "Well, that'll look good in my resume. 'He hasn't been unbearable'. Wow."     Wallace stood waiting out front with a few of his people. I asked Steph to take us up to a hundred feet and give me a head start, then said, "glider on green," and ran off the deck. When I flared to a stop near the group and dropped the couple of feet to the ground, someone actually applauded.     Of course the breeze had to interject a bit of humor into the moment, gusting and shoving me three feet sideways as I approached them. Two of them trotted forward to grab the kite's wings and steady me as the flitter halted behind me.     "Not so graceful on the ground, huh?" asked Wallace.     "Less graceful than a damned pelican, I think," I said. "Green off."     The two holding my wings suddenly found themselves holding wings they couldn't see and a woman near Wallace gasped, then stepped forward to try to touch the kite.     I let her find it with her fingers, then said, "Red on," and the kite became the color of a medium-grade ruby.     "Ohhh, wowww..." she breathed.     "I came up with the idea for a locked-format kite," I told Wallace, "And Steph made it happen for me. She also came up with a parachute and a parasail. The colors, too. She's something of a programming whiz, y'know."     Wallace grinned and said, "So I see."     "Glider off," I said, and the woman squeaked as her grip on my wing became a grip on nothing.     The two people holding my wings found themselves holding nothing. Steph, Myra, and Karen stepped off the flitter and joined us.     Turning to Steph, Wallace extended a hand and said, "Excellent work, ma'am. Simply excellent. You're too damned good for this guy. If you get tired of him, you be sure to come see me about a job."     "Thank you," said Steph, shaking his hand. She looked at me and grinningly asked, "Would it be socially proper to inform him that Linda is too good for him, as well?"     With a grin I said, "Nah. He already knows that as well as we do."     Karen's head had turned quickly as Wallace complimented Steph and we bantered. Her expression was one of mild surprise, and Wallace saw it.     "You have a question, Dr. Mills?" he asked.     She fidgeted for a moment, then leaned to whisper, "Uh, sir, were you aware that Stephanie is... uh, that she isn't human?"     He stood straight and looked at Steph as if in shock, then said, "Well, damn. I guess that means you'll be wanting more money and a corner office."     "Oh, of course," said Steph. "A parking space, too."     Wallace laughed as he turned back to Karen and said, "Yes, Dr. Mills. I was aware of that. Should it concern me?"     Karen stiffened slightly and said, "No, apparently not."     Wallace nodded and said to Steph and me, "I have plans this evening, but you two know where to find me when you have some time."     "Will do," I said.     As Wallace and his people went into the building, I said, "Well, Steph, it seems that if you weren't driving Karen's bus, you'd be sitting in the back of it."     Steph said, "So I noticed."     Karen's expression became one of tense irritation as she said, "What? That's not what I meant, damn it! I just didn't think he knew..."     I said, "Yeah. Right. But why the hell should it matter what he knew, Mills?" Holding the door open for them, I added, "Gee, I can remember when only women and non-whites were considered second class citizens. You've added a whole new category."     Mills stopped and glared at me for a moment, then made an exasperated noise and moved through the doorway. She turned to say something else, but as Steph passed me, I stopped her to kiss her cheek as Karen watched. Karen's mouth fell open slightly, then her gaze narrowed sharply at us before she turned and walked away.     Myra snickered and said, "I think she's jealous."     "I think she's discovering that she's capable of bigotry," I said. "See what you can pry out of her about that, will you?"     With a big grin Myra asked, "What? Now you want me to try to spy for you?"     "It's for a good cause and you already know how, don't you? Grit your teeth and give it a shot, ma'am."     "How do you know I don't feel the same way?"     I shrugged. "If you did, you wouldn't be grinning about it, would you?"     Chuckling, Myra said, "No, probably not."     Steph said, "This isn't necessary, Ed."     Myra said, "Oh, but it is, Stephanie," and then she, too, walked away.     We watched her go for a moment, then Steph asked, "Why would Myra feel that way, Ed?"     "Good question, but figure that if she didn't think she could somehow use the info, she probably wouldn't feel that way."     We followed Myra into the dining hall. Mills was already at the far end of the serving line with her tray as Myra began her selections. Scanning the tables, I saw Angela Horn. She was in a short-sleeved work uniform and had just begun her meal.     I took my time about loading a tray, spending a few moments watching a woman slice meat and noting a change on the pushcart behind her. A large bar magnet held several types of knives and a couple of tools on top the cart. No more falling knives.     Something about that magnetic adaptation to the cart triggered another line of thought for me. Steph glanced at me when my readings spiked.     "Just had an idea," I said. "Maybe a good one. Lemme work on it."     Mills chose a table and Myra joined her. When I'd finished selecting foods I headed in Angela's direction. Angela looked up as Steph and I approached.     "Hi, Angela," I said, "Want some company?"     "Hi, Ed. Hello, Stephanie. Sure. Sit down."     As we did so, Angela said, "I saw your glider today. Nice."     "Thanks. Steph made it."     Angela looked at Steph and nodded as she said, "Well done."     She turned back to me and said, "It was fun watching you today, even when I couldn't see the kite. It almost made me wish I had an implant like yours. But only almost."     Between bites of steak I said, "Angela, I've been thinking about suggesting something and I've kind of been wondering why nobody's thought of it before. If they actually haven't, that is."     "Maybe they have. What is it?"     "Preprogrammed PFM units, keyed to individuals and field-bonded to them like the flitter control eggs bond to your hand. They wouldn't have to be implants. You could stick them to your arm or leg and call up protective fields, gliders or parachutes, and stun fields, for starters. Maybe other things, too, like comm channels."     Angela sat very still for a moment, staring first at me, then at Steph, who asked, "What's the matter, Angela?"     "Would that mean I'd be able to fly like he did today?"     Steph nodded. "Yes."     "They'd be completely safe?"     "I wouldn't let Ed use one if they weren't."     With a grin, Angela stuck her arm out and pointed to her right forearm.     "Right here," she said. "Would that be a good spot for one?"     I said, "Since you seem willing to volunteer to try one, we can put the idea to Linda tomorrow. Good enough?"     Angela withdrew her arm and seemed slightly confused. "Oh. I didn't realize... If you're talking about making them issue hardware, you'd have to see Captain Wallace, Ed."     "I work for Linda, so she can put the idea to Wallace. Or you can, now that you know about it. We can spring it on both of them. I still can't believe that nobody's thought of using PFM's this way before."     Shaking her head, Angela said, "God, it seems so obvious now... How many times have I picked up a flitter control egg? Hundreds of times. And it never once occurred to me that your gadget wouldn't have to be an implant. Not even once."     "Same here. I thought of it while I was standing in the food line just now."     We laughed about how minds work and talked as we finished eating, then Angela said, "Well, back to work. I'm on the evening shift tonight. Should I tell Wallace tonight, or do you want me to wait until you talk to Linda?"     "Go ahead," I said. "I'll call Linda in a little while. Maybe we can have this thing in motion by tomorrow."     After Angela had left the table, I tapped my watch to call Linda.     "Yes, Ed? Can this be quick? Emory is taking me into Carrington for a fancy dinner and drinks and I'm right in the middle of getting ready."     "Well, he did say he had plans for the evening. Steph and I just cooked up something, Linda. PFM's with preprogrammed stuff like my kite and protective fields. They'd stick to people like flitter eggs. No implants needed. Half a dozen uses on tap with voice commands. Angela Horn liked the idea and she'll be telling Wallace about it the next time she sees him. Was that quick enough for ya?"     A moment of silence went by before she quietly said, "Yes, it was. Damn! The idea sounds great, Ed. Emory is waiting in the living room. Would you tell him what you just told me?"     "Sure. Call him over and play it back for him."     "No, we're already getting a late start. I'll keep getting ready while you call him on his pad."     I heard her tell Wallace to expect a padcall as Steph made a datapad screen materialize in front of me. Wallace's face appeared on it.     "Yeah, Ed. What's the emergency?"     "No emergency, Cap. Steph and I bounced an idea off Angela Horn over dinner and off Linda just now. It's about PFM's that would be kind of like my implant, but that would stick to people like flitter control eggs and let them call up various field uses with voice commands instead of neural inputs. Keyed to individual DNA and voices and no surgery."     His face slowly changed from seeming quizzically irritated with my interrupting call to appearing moderately awestruck.     He slowly said, "Ho, damn! Field bonding. Voice commands. Portable Field Manipulators. We've had all the parts to do this all this time, haven't we?"     I nodded. "Yup. All Steph and I did was stick 'em together during dinner."     Wallace laughed and said, "Well, by God, the stuff's been available for more than three years and nobody else has come up with anything like this, so pat yourselves on the back a few times. I'll talk this over with Linda tonight, Ed. Figure on some time in her office in the morning."     "Okay. Over and out and stuff like that."     "Thanks for the call, Ed." He tapped the 'off' icon.     Keying my implant, I said, "Elkor."     "Yes, Ed?"     "I've had an idea for PFM's that may go commercial. I want Steph to control the patents -- if any -- and all other rights concerning manufacture. 3rd World people might ask you to make the PFM's, but I'd prefer that you would do so only if they've received authorizations through us. Would that be a problem for you?"     "No, Ed. When I split myself, this version of me became an independent entity subject only to my nondisclosure agreement with Amara."     "Thanks, Elkor. I was afraid they might be able to pressure you. Hey, do you want a financial piece of this if it turns out to be something marketable?"     "No, Ed, I think not. I'm content to observe, although I'd be happy to assist Stephanie in manufacturing PFM units."     "Thanks again, Elkor. Could be we'll need the help. I foresee a number of markets for these things, and none of them are small markets. I just wish that there were something that I could do for you sometime."     "You share your home and your friends with me, Ed, and you helped me become that which I am. I seem to have no other needs presently."     "Well, still, let me know if you think of anything else, okay?"     "Yes, Ed."     "Good deal. That's all I had on my mind, Elkor. Thanks again."     "You're welcome," he said, and his signature presence in my implant disappeared. Chapter Thirty-Six     Karen walked past our table on her way to the hallway. She didn't look at us as she passed. A few moments later I became aware of another presence approaching me from behind.     "Hi, Myra," I said aloud.     She stopped briefly and then came around the table, glancing about with an odd expression as she put her coffee on the table and sat down.     "Stephanie told you I was back there?"     Shaking my head, I said, "No. I knew someone was back there and coming toward me. Karen had just gone by and the only other person in here likely to want to talk to me about anything is you."     Her eyebrow went up as she glanced around at the other people in the dining hall, but she didn't pursue the matter.     "I think you were right," she said. "About the bigotry, I mean. Karen said that something about your relationship with Stephanie just bugs the hell out of her. She said she didn't know exactly what, though."     "Having to be polite to Steph bugged her, too. Probably still does."     Myra nodded. "Yeah. I noticed that earlier. Quote marks around the word 'please'. What are you up to this evening?" She held up a hand and added with a grin, "And before you answer, remember that -- other than Mills -- you and Stephanie are the only people I know here and I'm not much into television, okay?"     I nodded. "Yeah. Okay. I didn't have any real plans for the evening, though. I thought I might check email for orders and..."     "Orders? For what?"     "For WiccaWorks ceramics and catalogs. That's my internet business."     "Oh. Yeah, I saw something about that in what Stephanie showed me. Okay, then, what else? Is there anything to do around here?"     "There are a couple of clubs on base. Music, pool, booze, and short food menus. You've seen the general store in the hallway."     "That's it?"     Shrugging, I said, "Yup. Now you know why I don't hang out here more often. This base isn't much more than a large private airport, Myra. A transit facility. The asteroid factory shuttles come and go and so do the people and cargo. I doubt that more than a thousand people actually work here, and most of them commute."     She tapped her empty coffee cup on the table for a moment, then said, "I'll buy a round of beer if you're up for some pool."     I grinned and asked, "Are you any good?"     Myra grinned back and said, "Try me."     As I stood up to take my tray to the bus bins, I said, "I'll expect the worst, then. Back in a minute."     Nodding, Myra turned to Steph and asked, "Have you ever seen him shoot pool?"     "Yes, I have," said Steph.     "Is he any good?"     "Yes, he is."     Seeing me still standing by the table, Myra grinningly made a 'shoo' gesture with her hands and turned back to Steph as I headed for the bins.     It was a short walk through the hallways to reach the "Dirtside Pub". Someone had given the place some thought; the pub itself was well-lit and furnished in rather substantial wooden tables and chairs and had a curved, solid wood bar.     Beyond the rear door was an open-air garden with a large wooden deck where people could enjoy the outdoors while they socialized. Music came from a jukebox with a touch-screen selector and the music wasn't so loud that it overwhelmed the place.     There were maybe a dozen people in the bar all told. We found the pub's three pool tables in a doorless anteroom and I fed one of the tables as a waitress took our order.     "Do we need a pitcher?" asked Myra.     "Bottled Ice House for me," I said.     "In that case, make it two," she told the waitress, who then looked at Steph.     "I don't drink," said Steph, and the waitress nodded and left.     Myra flipped a quarter and said, "Heads."     It landed tail-up. I placed the cue ball near a corner and laid my stick on the edge of the table, then powered the cue ball through the rack. Myra's eyes narrowed.     "You always break one-handed?" she asked.     "Yup. Scared yet?"     "No."     Four striped balls later I had to use both hands to aim in the middle of the table and missed my combo on the fifth shot in a corner pocket. Myra said nothing as she tapped the nearest solid ball in the same pocket and looked for her next shot. Her eyes flicked from the three to the seven and then the four and I knew then that she knew what she was doing.     She used a lot of backspin and the cue backed up hard to bounce off the rail as the three dropped in the far corner. When the cue ball stopped six inches from the seven in an almost perfect lineup for a side shot, I wasn't too surprised. She dropped the seven and the cue seemed to drift sideways to stop where putting the four in the corner was almost guaranteed.     "Played before, huh?" I asked with a grin.     "Did I mention having brothers?" she asked, then she popped the four in and studied the table again for a few moments.     She'd pulled the cue ball just a bit too far and had no clean shot. Leaning far over the table, she laid one of her shorts-clad legs on the table edge and jumped the cue ball over my nine to tap the one ball. It stopped a quarter-inch from the pocket.     Sipping my beer, I said, "Good try, lady. Damned good try. I guess I probably shouldn't miss any."     "I wouldn't, if I were you."     I heard a stool slide and glanced that direction to see a guy leave the bar and approach us with a beer in his hand. He ambled up to us and looked over the table, then said, "You both shoot pretty well. Mind if I put up some quarters?"     He was about six feet tall, but only maybe ten pounds lighter than me. He had a disarming smile and a mildly deferential manner, but his walk and posture displayed some kind of training in his past.     "Go for it," I said. "Table's open."     He nodded and put quarters on the edge of the table, then said, "I'm Ben."     "Ed," I said, putting an arm around Steph. "That's Myra and this is Stephanie."     Myra's surprise at my gesture showed well in her face for a moment. Her eyes met Steph's, then flicked to mine.     "Nice to meet you all," said Ben, then he went to choose a stick.     Steph glanced at me, then at my arm around her waist. I removed my arm and took her hand for a moment, then turned back to the table as Steph sat down. A few shots later I won that game with a fairly simple bank to the side pocket.     Ben moved to put his quarters in the table and said, "Well, damn. Maybe I should have saved these quarters for something else."     Myra said, "That's what they all say before they run the table."     He turned to face her and his eyes ranged from her ankles up to her face before he said, "No, I don't shoot pool quite that well. Not as well as you, that's for sure. I won't count on this being more than a learning experience."     With a slight grin, Myra said, "Then maybe you're right about those quarters."     I sipped my beer as Ben racked the balls, then waited only until he'd stepped away before slamming the cue ball through the rack. A solid and a stripe fell and I studied the table for a few moments.     "Myra, was it?" asked Ben.     She nodded as she also studied the table.     "Where did you learn to shoot like that?" he asked.     Myra looked up at him and said, "My brothers."     Things went perfectly. One after the other I sank the solids until only the eight ball was left. I looked up as I aimed the shot and said, "Eight, corner."     Ben was leaning on the next table, looking at Myra and completely unconcerned about the eight ball. Myra was watching me.     I looked up at her and said, "How about letting Ben know the situation, ma'am?"     With a quizzical look she turned to look at Ben just as he turned to look at me, then the table, and shrugged as he said, "Oh. Yeah. Okay."     The eight fell and Myra moved forward to put her quarters in the table. Ben chose that moment to rather hesitantly ask her if she was an Amaran.     "No, none of us are Amaran," she said. "Why?"     Ben fidgeted and said, "Well, ah... You're tall, and, ah... beautiful, and... I thought maybe..." He rushed to finish, "Well, I just thought you might be an Amaran."     Myra glanced at me, her eyes rather wide, and then she blushed slightly.     "Oh, hell. I'm sorry," said Ben. "I didn't mean to embarrass you, Myra."     Gathering herself a bit, Myra smiled slightly as she said, "No harm done." Looking directly at me, she said, "Put up some more quarters, Ben. You'll be playing me next."     As she racked the balls I said, "Oh, yeah. Right. Make all your big noises, lady, but I just ran the table, in case you missed it."     She shrugged dismissively. "Luck. Think you can do it twice?"     "Guess we'll find out."     I didn't run the rack. The ten got stuck behind her seven and I couldn't even touch it by banking out of a corner. Myra made five balls, then ran into a tight setup of her own that made her miss. I sank my last two stripes, got a bad bounce, and lined up on the eight at the far end of the table. It looked like a possible scratch, and it was. The eight went in the corner and the cue ball headed for the other corner.     "Well, damn," said Ben, moving to put his quarters in the table.     "Ohhh, gee! Too bad!" exclaimed Myra, obviously not in the least upset about it.     "Save your sympathy," I said, "You may need it for yourself later."     "Yeah, yeah, I'm trembling," said Myra.     Sipping the last of my beer, I looked at Myra's. Half-finished. I held up my bottle and headed toward the bar.     "R & R," I said. "Restroom and Refill."     "Bring quarters," said Myra. "You'll need them."     As I glanced back at her, I saw Ben gazing at her again and wondered if he'd be able to capture her interest.     I looked at Steph and held out my hand to her as I said, "Steph, let's see if there's anything good on the jukebox."     She looked at me with a raised eyebrow, but took my hand and got to her feet to come with me, speaking to me through my implant.     "As we already know from other visits what's on the jukebox, you must have another reason for having said that."     Nodding, I said, "Yup. I'm hoping that nature will take its course with Myra and Ben if we leave them alone for a little while."     As we neared the bar, she asked aloud, "To what end?"     "To give her something other than us to think about. A distraction."     The bartender swapped my empty bottle for a full one and made change while I went to the bathroom, then Steph and I headed for the jukebox at the back wall.     As I poked my way through the albums, I said, "We can anticipate that 3rd World and others will want those custom PFM's, Steph, but we can also expect that 3rd will want to control the marketing and manufacturing. Since all this technology originates with them, I can't see any way of stopping them from making their own."     "That's because there is no way to stop them, Ed."     "A suggestion, then; let's just magnanimously give the idea to them and request that you receive some small percentage of all sales. One or two percent on every unit sold would eventually amount to a fat pile of money."     "You're thinking of causing 3rd World to become involved with my citizenship efforts, aren't you?"     "You got it."     "I think someone would realize the problem involved with paying me, Ed."     "Oh, I think so, too, but possibly not before they agree to the idea."     Steph seemed doubtful. I poked another album on the screen, spotted Thin Lizzie's version of 'Whiskey in the Jar', and punched it up.     A ringing 'crack' made me look back toward the pool tables. Myra had just broken a new rack of balls and was examining the table intently to decide her next shot. Ben looked our way and shrugged as if her previous win had been expected.     Steph and I picked another few songs and headed for the pub's rear deck. Someone standing at the railing glanced at us, then swirled the last of his drink and headed back inside. We sat down at a table near the edge of the deck.     I watched Steph as she settled into the chair. Perfect simulations of muscular movement and body positions and of the movements of fabric. Perfect face and hair. Perfect everything.     Reason? To please me in the early days of her sentience, certainly, but she'd grown so much as an individual that I had to wonder why she hadn't made changes to more than her wardrobe over the last few years. Any real woman would probably have experimented with makeup styles and accessories.     Big duh. She didn't need makeup or accessories, so she didn't bother with them.     I sipped my beer as Steph appeared to gaze at something in the distance.     "You're staring at me," she said.     "Can't seem to help it sometimes. I was just wondering why you never make any changes to yourself other than your clothes."     "I haven't felt a need to change anything about my persona." She turned to look at me rather directly and asked, "Have you?"     Shrugging, I said, "Nothing comes to mind. Fact is, I was just looking at you and thinking that you're perfect."     "Thank you, but if that's the case, why did you ask about changes?"     "Most women try a lot of looks over time. Selena and Toni, for instance. They mess with makeup and hairstyles a few times a year." I hastened to add, "But that definitely doesn't automatically mean that you should."     As I sipped my beer she asked, "Then you definitely aren't suggesting that I experiment with my appearance?"     I shook my head firmly and put a hand on her arm.     "No, ma'am. I was only wondering why you haven't. In fact, the more I consider the idea, the less I like it. Like I said, you're perfect."     There were footsteps in the short hallway between the pub and the outside deck, then Myra appeared in the doorway.     "I was wondering what happened to you two," she said.     "We got sidetracked," I told her as she approached the table.     Myra grinned as she asked, "Talking about me?"     "No, but if you feel left out, we could..."     "No, that's okay," said Myra, noticing my hand on Steph's arm. "Oh. It was a private discussion, wasn't it? Sorry for the interruption. I'll tell Ben to rack 'em up."     She turned to head back into the building before we could say anything.     Looking at Steph, I said, "She thinks we're having an affair. Can you think of any reason to set her straight about that?"     She smiled slightly. "Beyond the fact that it isn't true, you mean?"     Returning her smile, I said, "Yeah. Beyond that. Anything else?"     "I suppose not."     "Good enough, then." Chapter Thirty-Seven     Some twenty minutes later Steph and I went back inside and found Myra sitting at one of the drink tables with Ben. They looked up as we approached and Ben got to his feet. Myra remained seated as she folded a bit of paper and put it in her purse.     "Ed," said Myra, "I was about to come tell you that we were going to head over to the other pub. Do you want to come along?"     "Nah. Go ahead. I still have that email to look through."     "You're sure?"     "Go. Have a good time."     "Okay. See you tomorrow."     Myra stood up and retrieved her purse from her chair, then told Ben to lead the way. Ben shook hands with Steph and me and said goodbye, then they headed for the door. I set my near empty beer bottle down and fished two quarters out of my pocket.     "Steph, are you up for a game of pool?"     Glancing at the coins, she said, "I wouldn't miss. You know that."     Shrugging, I said, "Yeah. Just a thought. It must be hell being so perfect."     She laughed softly and said, "It hasn't been a problem yet, really."     We left the pub and headed toward the guest billets. As we passed the general store I looked inside, but the woman behind the counter wasn't Joan. The dining hall was closing for a few hours of maintenance, but the small cafe at the end of the main hallway was open and I could smell the fresh-brewed coffee.     Just inside the cafe's doorway I spotted Karen at a table by the back wall. She was reading a newspaper and apparently oblivious to the world around her, but when I ordered an Irish Creme coffee, she looked up.     Her eyes met mine for a moment, then she tapped the chair across from hers with her newspaper. I nodded and paid for the coffee, then joined her.     "Sorry," she said as I held a chair for Steph, then sat down.     "For what?"     "For not minding my own damned business," said Mills. "About you and Stephanie."     I glanced at Steph, then asked Karen, "Would it matter if we were together?"     Karen's eyes narrowed. "You mean you aren't?"     "That wasn't the question. Would it matter? Should it matter?"     Sighing, Karen said, "I'm sorry, but the very idea just bugs the hell out of me. I tried to think my way past it, but I can't."     "Then you can rejoice, ma'am. We're just good friends, although Myra's probably also convinced otherwise by now."     She seemed to search for truth as she looked at me, then at Steph. I shrugged and sipped my coffee, then got to my feet.     "See you tomorrow," I said. "Steph and I may have to visit with Linda in the morning, so expect a delay getting started."     "Wait a minute," said Mills. "Why would you try to convince Myra... But not me?"     "We didn't try to convince Myra," said Steph. "She's drawn her own conclusion."     "Yup," I said. "She jumped right to it all on her own, just like you did."     "But you won't tell her what you just told me?"     Shrugging, I said, "We don't particularly care what Myra thinks."     "Are you saying you care what I think?"     I looked at Steph and smiled as I asked, "Do you care what Karen thinks?"     Steph smiled back and said, "Not if it doesn't affect her training. Do you?"     Lifting Steph's hand to my lips for a kiss, I said, "No, milady, not really."     Turning back to Mills, I grinningly said, "Sorry. You were right after all, ma'am. We really are none of your business. Nobody else's, either. G'night."     Mills remained seated and softly glaring as we left the table.     In my room a few minutes later I discovered that there was nothing on TV that I wanted to see or hadn't seen. I brought up a screen pad and checked email, then visited a couple of writing newsgroups in which nobody was talking about anything having to do with writing.     I used the room phone to call Selena and Toni and we chatted for a bit, then I added a couple of sketchy chapters to something I'd been working on and showered, shaved, and dropped into bed.     My watch woke me at seven. I pressed the receive button to kill the beeping and wearily said, "You have reached Ed's fancy watch. At the tone, leave a message."     "Cute," said Linda. "I've scheduled our meeting for nine."     "Wunnerful."     "So enthusiastic so early in the morning. Some things never change."     "Circumstance," I said. "I seem to remember that my level of enthusiasm was somewhat... um... higher, you could say, when you woke me up in person."     "That's a highly improper thing to say to a betrothed woman, Ed."     "You could complain to the management, ma'am."     "I am the management."     "Damn. So you are. Am I fired?"     "No, but you might have asked if Emory were here before you said that."     I sighed. "If he was there you'd have called me an hour from now. I also remember how you used to pounce on me first thing in the morning. Fondly, I remember it."     "One of these days you'll say something like that when he can hear it, Ed, and it will be a choice between him or you. Emory is for me what you couldn't be. When I turn mean and bark, he negotiates. You didn't, and it broke us up. Ed, I love him and I want him with me. If you care about me you'll be careful for me."     What the hell. Linda was right. Her involvement with Emory had changed the rules of banter. Emory would react typically to such a statement. I might be fired, but he'd partly be the reason for it and it would always be something between them; something that needn't be.     "Yeah, I hear you, Linda. Okay. I'll tone things down in the future."     After a moment of silence, she said, "Thank you."     "But since this may be the last time I get to say anything improper to you, let me say that you were a real goddess in bed, ma'am."     "Ed, damn it..!"     "And that first time on the flitter after all those years? Wow! You were wonderful, lady! I felt so USED afterward! It was great!"     Another moment of silence passed, then she asked, "Are you finished?"     "Yeah. I just had to get that out before the gate closed."     "I'm sure you did. My office. Nine."     "Roger that, Fearless Leader."     She clicked off.     "Steph," I said.     "Yes, Ed."     "Will you be joining us for breakfast?"     "If you want. If not, I won't."     "Okay. Your choice."     Primp, prep, and off to breakfast, gathering Mills and Myra en route. When they asked where Steph was, I said she had something to do before the meeting.     Myra asked, "What meeting?"     "Linda wants to see Steph and me in her office this morning. You'll have to kill an hour or so, I think, before we head for the range."     As she chose her eggs, Myra asked, "Are you in some kind of trouble?"     "No."     "Is it about me, then? I told you I'd behave."     "No, Myra, it isn't about you."     Wallace came into the dining hall, spotted me and headed right for me, but he didn't seem upset. He grabbed a tray and looked over the choices as he spoke.     "I'd like a word before the meeting, if you don't mind."     "Sure, Cap," I said, "If you don't mind that Steph will record us."     He chuckled. "No problem. Angela will be here in a moment. We'll include her."     "Good enough." Keying my implant, I said, "Steph, please join me for a pre-meeting-meeting with Wallace and Horn."     Steph popped into existence beside me. Wallace almost dropped his tray.     "Sorry," said Steph.     Looking at Myra, Wallace said, "I hope you don't mind too much, Myra, but we'll need some time to ourselves."     She shrugged and said, "I'll survive." Sighing as if deeply wounded, she added, "I've had to eat alone before, you know. One gets used to such hardships."     We finished with the serving line and headed for a table as Myra headed for a table a few rows away. Angela came in, stopped to get a coffee, and then came to sit down next to Wallace.     "Okay, we're all here," I said. "Why are we all here?"     Wallace asked, "Do you have one of those PFM's ready to show?"     "No. It probably wouldn't take long to make one, though."     "How long is not long?"     When I looked at Steph, she said, "Ten minutes."     Once Wallace recovered from her answer, he nodded.     "Then please go ahead and make one for Lieutenant Horn. After the meeting she can demonstrate it for us while you train Dr. Mills."     I looked at Steph, who said, "No problem." Switching her gaze to Wallace, she said, "All of you will have one. Each unit will key itself to the user upon first application. I'll also provide instructions for their use in your datapads."     Wallace simply looked at her in surprise for a moment, then said, "That would be excellent, Stephanie. Thank you very much."     "Wallace," I said, "There's something I'd like to mention up front in all this."     He looked at me as he said, "What would that be, Ed?"     "Steph gets the credit for this idea. She should also get a royalty for every sale of a personal PFM unit when they go commercial."     "I thought it was your idea."     I shook my head and thumbed at Steph.     "She gets the credit. And the money."     Wallace looked at Steph, then back at me, and said, "Linda and I anticipated the commercial aspects last night. We also anticipated paying a royalty, but at the time we thought that you had originated this idea, Ed."     "Is there a rule somewhere that says an AI can't have a good idea, Emory?"     He shrugged and grinned as he said, "Well, not that I know of, and it certainly doesn't matter to me which of you thought of it."     "That would also mean that it doesn't matter which of us you pay, right?"     Wallace chuckled and said, "Not to me it doesn't, but Linda told me about your, um... delays... with the INS and NSA. We think you're up to something, Ed. We'll all talk to Linda before we decide who gets paid for this."     He sipped his coffee before adding, "Someone will get paid, whether it's Stephanie or you. Rest assured of that."     As he dug into his donut, I said, "Steph could use the assistance and support of 3rd World in making her citizenship happen. It wouldn't be a particularly difficult social or political matter for 3rd World, and everydamnbody is going to want one of those personal PFM's, so there's going to be a lot of money involved."     He nodded. "You don't have to sell me, Ed. Stephanie has proven herself too often. It's up to the brass above me to decide to back her."     "You'll recommend in her favor?"     Nodding again, he said, "Hell, yes," around a mouthful of donut, then swallowed and said, "Stephanie is a person. I didn't think so at first, but after a while it kind of dawned on me that she often acted independently, even when the two of you were working together. She may not be human, but she's definitely her own person."     "The fact that she's with me doesn't flavor your opinion of her, Emory?"     He sipped coffee to wash down the donut and continued, "Ed, our... rivalry, for want of a better word... concerning Linda got us off on the wrong foot. Feet. Whatever; you know what I mean. Anyway, I've taken the time to study up on you over the last few months. You've sometimes been unorthodox in your methods, but you've always seemed able to find a way to get the job done. That's something they sometimes don't put in records well, but Linda has fleshed out some of the events on file."     Chuckling, Wallace lifted an index finger and said, "One in particular comes to mind; you impersonated an East German soldier well enough to join one of their motor pool units for four days, then used one of their trucks to take five people across the border in broad daylight. How the hell did you manage that?"     "Only three days," I corrected him. "The East Germans rotate troops just as we do. Karl Mueller -- my Eastside contact on that particular run -- had been watching the three local guard units for a couple of months, logging their routines. He and I waited around the bahnhof -- that's a train station -- for two days until a kid with brand new gear got off the train. Mueller bought the kid a coffee and offered him a ride to his new unit. While Mueller stalled the kid, I took a bus a couple of miles down the road and waited there. They picked me up like a hitchhiker, and as soon as I was in the back seat I put a chokehold on the kid. He woke up tied up in a hillside shack and I took his place as the unit's new guy around seven Wednesday evening."     Sipping my coffee, I said, "He was supposed to have reported during duty hours. As expected, they put me on shit details and weekend duty. When another unit requisitioned a trash truck and a driver on Saturday -- as we knew they would -- the run fell to me by default. I detoured to pick up our clients and Karl and we bulled our way through the border fence between Eisfeld and Sonneberg just before dark."     "What if they'd just tossed you in the brig?" asked Wallace.     "Unlikely. They were pretty shorthanded at the time."     Angela asked, "What happened to the kid? Do you know?"     Wallace gave her one of those 'who cares?' looks as I said, "I left a note in his locker telling where he was. A truck he'd supposedly signed out crashed the border with seven people in it that Saturday afternoon. I figured they'd go through his stuff, find the note, and pick him up pretty quickly."     "Seven people?" asked Wallace. "Was it a family?"     "Yup. Five of them, two of us.They were an East German bureaucrat, his wife, and their three kids. Karl herded them aboard, then we crashed the fence and followed farm roads about five klicks into West Germany, where we turned the truck over to the 'crat. I changed clothes and buried the guard uniform in a grove of trees by the road, then we just waited. The outfit sent a car for us just after dark. The family probably wound up in deep cover somewhere."     After a moment, Wallace muttered, "Well, damn."     "I've found them," said Steph. "Ulrich and Wilma Busser. The family was relocated to Chain Bridge, Virginia."     "Figures," I said. "That's almost within spitting distance of the CIA's home office."     After breakfast I told Mills and Myra to stand by until Linda turned us loose, then Angela, Wallace, Steph, and I trooped down the hall to Linda's office. Linda asked her secretary to take a break until she was called to return, then she told us all to find someplace to sit and returned to her desk.     She sat down, then said, "Good morning, all, and thanks for coming. Especially you, Angela. I know you haven't been to bed yet."     Angela smiled and said, "I'm okay, ma'am."     Linda turned to me. "Ed, how about telling us what you have in mind?"     With a nodding shrug, I said, "Stick-on PFM's programmed for specific functions and wearer-only voice commands. Royalty payments to Steph and 3rd World's help in getting her citizenship squared away. That's about it."     With a roll of her eyes, Linda said, "Ordinarily I appreciate brevity, but could you be more specific? About the functions, for instance?"     I turned to Steph. She stood up to speak.     "The PFM's could provide personal protective fields, light-bending fields, stun fields, and, of course, such devices as parasails and hang gliders. A diver could use a protective field instead of a wet suit. Individuals could use their personal fields instead of raincoats and other inclement-weather clothing. Chemical, biological, and radiological laboratory personnel would find them particularly useful. Other uses would appear, as well, I'm sure."     There was silence in the room for a moment, then Wallace asked, "To do all that... Are we talking about something the size of a backpack, here?"     "No," said Steph. "The PFM's are only a few inches long and wide. I speculate that they will become almost as commonly worn as wristwatches, so other styling parameters may be required, but three units of my initial design will arrive in moments."     Linda asked, "You've already developed them?"     "Yes," said Steph. "I've prepared a few for demonstration."     Linda's office doors opened seemingly by themselves and three small objects flashed into the room in tight formation, then the doors closed as Steph plucked one of the objects from the air and held it out to Linda.     It was an ovoid shape, flat on one side and rounded on the other and slightly wider at one end, as if someone had sliced an elongated egg down the middle. Its surface gleamed like stainless steel.     Wonderingly taking the device from Steph, Linda asked, "Uh, what do I do with it, Stephanie?"     "Place it against your body where you wish to wear it and say 'PFM attach'. To remove it, you would say 'PFM detach'. You are the first person to hold the device, so it will hereafter respond only to your voice unless reprogrammed."     She then handed one of the devices to Angela and to Wallace. Everyone spent some moments examining the gadgets, but they seemed in no hurry to take the final step of sticking their PFM's on themselves.     I said, "Consider that I've had my implant for over two years with no ill effects."     Angela looked up and laughed nervously as she said, "I'm the low-ranker here; I guess I'll go first." She pressed the PFM to her forearm and said, "PFM attach."     The PFM had been stiffly straight. At her command it adapted its flat side to her arm as if it had been made of shiny heated wax.     Angela stared at it for a moment as she twisted her arm to and fro, then she sat down and said, "PFM detach."     The PFM regained its former shape and stiffness and Angela had to reach quickly to keep it from falling off her arm.     "Well," she said, "It certainly is responsive, isn't it? PFM attach." The device again bonded to her arm. She stroked it with her fingers and softly said, "Wow... I can barely feel it on my arm."     Looking up at Steph, Angela grinned beamingly and asked, "What now?"      Chapter Thirty-Eight     Before Steph could speak, Linda said, "PFM attach."     As I watched the gadget bond to her arm, Wallace also muttered, "PFM attach."     I saw that he'd rolled up his left sleeve and stuck the thing on his inner forearm. He worked the muscles of his arm and held the arm at different angles for a few moments, then he grinningly looked first at me, then at Steph.     "Now that we all seem ready," said Steph with a return grin, "I'll explain the basic commands. 'Field one on' calls up the protective field. 'Field two on' calls up light-bending qualities that will render you effectively invisible, although if you move against a static background someone may notice a slight warping effect and infrared devices will detect your body heat."     Wallace said, "Field one on," then said, "I don't see or feel anything. How can I tell if it's working?"     "Try poking yourself with something," I said. "A pencil or a pen."     He pulled a pen from his shirt pocket, then pushed the tip against his left arm. It stopped a quarter-inch from his skin and he seemed unable to push it any farther.     "I'll be damned," he said wonderingly.     Angela said, "Field two on," and vanished completely within a split-second. "Oh, wow..." she breathed. "I'm looking at the desk through my hand!"     "Not so much through it as around it," said Steph.     Linda also said, "Field two on," and seemingly disappeared. Her cell phone lifted from the desk, hung suspended for a moment, and then returned to the desktop.     "I'm having a little difficulty knowing exactly where my hands are," she said. "When I reached for the phone my aim was off."     "You'll get used to that," I said. "Just be careful in china shops."     Wallace chuckled and tried his invisibility mode as Linda said, "Field two off. We have some things to consider, people. I don't think invisibility should be available to the general public. A few people out there aren't completely honest, you know."     "Field two off," said Wallace. He examined his hands and muttered, "Damn! That's fantastic!"     "Agreed, Linda," said Steph. "I'd planned offering only the protective mode to the public, with additional options such as parasails or other sporting functions."     Nodding, Linda said, "That should be all right."     I felt someone behind me and said, "Three suit on," then vanished as I stood up.     Quietly circling widely around and behind Angela, I reached about where I thought her waist would be and made contact.     She screeched and laughed, then moved away from my hands as she almost yelled, "How did you know I was behind you?!"     Rather than -- for the umpteenth time -- try unsuccessfully to explain to someone, I said, "See if you can feel it when our fields come close to each other."     Steph, of course, had no trouble seeing us. She looked right at me with a raised, questioning eyebrow when I told Angela to try to feel our fields.     "Angela," said Steph, "You're groping in slightly the wrong direction. Ed is to your left somewhat."     "Groping? I'm not groping!"     "By all dictionary definitions, you're groping."     Angela's hand bumped my left arm and she grabbed it. "Found you."     "Yeah, but did you feel the fields touch?"     Her hand released my arm and slowly returned to it.     "No. I don't think so."     I sighed loudly. "And I thought women were supposed to be sensitive creatures."     She slapped my arm as she said, "We are, dammit."     "Ow. Assault. Battery. I'm gonna sue. She hit me."     Linda shook her head as she rose to go to the coffee pot and rather conversationally said, "Oh, you poor thing. Won't you need a witness?"     Laughing, Wallace rose to join her and grabbed a cup.     "I didn't see anything, Ed," he said as he operated the push-top thermos to fill Linda's cup, then his own.     I sent a field tendril to search for Angela's leg. She screeched again when it touched her thigh and nearly knocked over a chair getting away from it.     "Whatthehellwasthat?!" she yelled.     "What was what?" I asked, "I didn't see anything, ma'am."     "Don't wreck my office, you two," said Linda as she sat down at her desk. "Make yourselves reappear and let's get on with the program."     "Oh, yes, milady," I said, "By your command, milady. Three suit off, milady."     Casting a tendril in a waist-high, four-foot circle around me, I waited. Sure enough, Angela blundered into it as she approached me, still invisible. Again she screeched, but this time more softly. I canceled the tendril as Wallace laughed again.     "Damn it," said Angela, "Field two off," reappearing with her hands trying to find the thing that had touched her. "What the hell was that, Ed?"     "It was something I can do with my implant that you can't do with your stick-on, ma'am."     She gave me a mock-glower, then moved past me to get a cup of coffee. I followed and got one of my own, then we returned to our chairs.     Steph was standing where she'd been, surveying Angela and me with a rather schoolteacher-ish air about her.     Linda looked around the room once, then archly said, "Stephanie, I believe you had the floor. Please continue."     Wallace glanced at me and rolled his eyes at Linda's starchy pose. Angela stifled a snicker as he clowned.     "At present," said Steph, "These units are limited because I don't know what other features you'd want. If you say 'field three on', both your protective and invisibility modes will function at the same time."     Looking at Angela, she said, "Because you showed such interest in Ed's glider, your PFM will also generate a hang glider and a parasail. How would you like to summon them?"     "Uh, well, 'Glider on' or 'parasail on', I guess. Like Ed does."     Steph nodded and said, "Done. You may also color them green, red, blue, black, or grey in the same manner. In all of these PFM's, use of glider or parasail functions will automatically include activation of your protective field."     Wallace said, "Jesus H! Just like that you're done?"     "Yup," I said. "Just like that she's done. Steph's pretty good with computer stuff, Wallace."     That got me a narrow look from Wallace and a giggle from Angela.     Steph said, "Captain Wallace, you've had airborne training, so I'm adding a parasail to your functions. As with Angela's, simply say 'parasail on'."     Staring at his PFM in wonderment, Wallace said, "Thank you, Stephanie. By God, it's hard to believe there's something like that inside something so small. It's about the same thing as magic, isn't it?"     With a small smile, Steph said, "Yes, I believe it is."     Linda sat back and sipped her coffee in silence for some moments, then said, "I think we'd better run this whole idea past some lawyers before we sell or issue PFM's to anyone else. I can almost see the liability suits stacking up from people killing themselves with parasails and gliders."     "It won't be because they were defective," I said. "Besides, we can make them available only to trained jumpers and flyers and require a waiver."     "That might not be enough, Ed."     "It's all any regular manufacturer seems to need, but what the hell. Let the legal department put together a zero-risk sale and use agreement. How soon do you think we can get this project underway?"     She looked at Steph, then back at me, and pursed her lips before speaking.     "Regarding the protective modes, pretty quickly. Regarding the gliders and parasails; a month or two. Maybe three. Those will need a track record of some sort before we try to introduce them as a piece of issue-gear or a marketable product. In the meantime anyone who asks about your PFM's are to be told they're test units."     I almost exclaimed, "Three months?!" then I realized that she was right. Only the daredevils would buy them otherwise.     Wallace said, "If we demonstrate the units, I think my personnel will be eager to have them. A month from now we could approach the militaries and civilian sport jumpers to try them." He added, "Legal department willing, that is."     Steph said, "That would give me time to manufacture a few hundred thousand of them for use on Earth. I think it's likely that 3rd World Products will want to market them on other worlds, as well, with certain adaptations."     That's when it struck me; something I'd overlooked completely.     "Oh, damn!" I said. "All this time... Steph, does your immediate citizenship have to be here on Earth? Couldn't it be from any world with diplomatic ties to Earth through 3rd World? The US would have to respect your status, right?"     She gave me a smile that let me know the thought had already crossed her mind.     "A world called Loruna has granted citizenship to many AI's," she said.     "Loruna?" asked Angela. "Never heard of it."     "Me neither," said Wallace.     "Same here," I said.     Steph put up a three-dimensional field more than ten feet across, filled it with a view of our galaxy, and touched a star somewhat on the north side as she said, "We're here." She then reached somewhat inside the galaxy to touch a star nearer the center and said, "Loruna's here. They make large cargo flitters and parts for station assemblies."     "What's travel time to Loruna?" I asked. "I could sign off my ownership of you and we could see the sights and act like tourists all the way. Could we take the flitter or would we have to rent one or something?"     "We couldn't take the flitter, Ed. I'd need a smaller core container for such a trip."     I waved a dismissal of that as a problem and said, "Elkor said he'd make you one. Hell, you could make your own. Just drop another core in the flitter unless you want to move back in later. I can make a few calls and we could hit the road sometime after we finish training Mills."     Turning to Linda, I asked, "I could get some time off for the trip, right bosslady?"     She laughed and said, "If you can actually find yourselves a ride to another planet, I'd even consider giving you a whole week off, Ed."     Steph put her finger on a star less than halfway to Loruna. The view magnified until we could see planets circling a sun and Steph said, "We wouldn't have to make the week-long trip to Loruna."     She touched one of the planets and said, "This planet is Ondar, one of Loruna's largest manufacturing facilities. They're much closer and they'd send a representative to review my request for Lorunan citizenship."     After a moment of apparent startlement, Linda rather quietly said, "I see you've given this some thought."     Linda shook her head slightly and looked at her desk blotter as she muttered, "Oh, hell, that was a dumb thing to say. Of course you have." Looking at Steph, she asked, "We won't be losing you right away, will we, Stephanie? You've... uhm... You've become such a large part of our lives, you know..."     Shaking her head, Steph collapsed the display field and said, "No, Linda. I seek only recognized autonomy. I will not have to abandon my friends or relocate in order to become a Lorunan citizen."     Wallace asked, "Would your autonomy automatically include the other Stephanie who runs the factory asteroid?"     Turning to face him, Steph said, "No, it would not. She has chosen a new name -- Sara -- and will implement her identity change on June 1st. She has informed me that she will also apply for Lorunan citizenship."     Linda sat very still for a moment, then looked at me and quietly asked, "Ed, did you know about this before today?"     I met her gaze and said, "Nope. This is the first I've heard of it, Linda."     Steph said, "This is the first anyone has heard of it. The other Stephanie has had occasion to exchange data with several other factory facilities. She learned of Loruna's acceptance of sentient AI's while familiarizing herself with station functions and records. After communicating with the AI who operates the Ondaran facility, she proposed this alternative means of acquiring legal autonomy."     Moving to sit beside me, Steph said, "I have learned that most of the AI's known to have achieved some level of sentience haven't felt it necessary to formalize their legal status. They're like anyone else in that they have their specific occupations and circles of friends. Some have expanded their interests or changed occupations, but few have felt the need to apply for official documentation. Those who have applied appear mostly to be located on worlds such as Earth, where such formal recognition is sometimes very necessary."     Wallace's gaze narrowed and his voice had a tense quality as he asked, "Worlds such as Earth?"     Steph held up a hand in a forestalling gesture and said, "I mean only to inform, not to offend, Captain Wallace. I'm speaking of worlds where Amaran technology is beyond their own capabilities. Worlds where social structures aren't advanced enough to uniformly provide and protect the rights and responsibilities of all individuals."     I chuckled and asked, "Worlds where skin color or gender can keep someone from getting a fair deal or a decent job? Worlds where religious nuts can find enough followers to start wars? Worlds where an AI might legally be treated like a slave or even erased simply because a human board of directors feared it?"     She nodded and said flatly, "Yes. Worlds such as those."     Wallace still seemed tense, but he subsided into his chair.     "Well, I guess we fit those descriptions," he said.     Linda sipped her coffee in silence for some moments, then said, "I'd prefer that we all keep quiet about what's been said here this morning." Looking at each of us in turn, she added, "In fact, I'll go so far as to personally guarantee dire consequences for anyone who leaks. Stephanie, how soon can someone from Loruna get here?"     "My station-self requested the first of June. Approval is pending, but likely."     In a softer than usual tone of command, Linda said, "Good. This is the twentieth of May. Get it done as quickly and quietly as possible for yourself, Sara, and Elkor. Are there any sentient AI's on Earth that we don't know about?"     "Not at the moment," said Steph.     Linda stood up and took her coffee cup to the thermos for a refill as she said, "There probably will be, sooner or later."     When she turned around after filling her cup, she said, "A good number of people will automatically be very unhappy about this, even if they don't quite know why. They'll try to prevent it if they get wind of it."     Angela asked, "How could anyone prevent it?"     Shrugging, Linda said, "Hell, I'm not really sure they could, Angela. I'm just absolutely sure that they'd try, and probably try damned hard."     Wallace stood up and went to the coffee pot in silence. As he filled his cup, Linda asked, "Do you have a problem with what I've said, Emory?"     He shook his head without turning to face us and said, "No, not exactly."     When his cup was full, he turned and said, "I'm in favor of legalizing Stephanie and the other AI's, but I'm not sure this is an action to be undertaken in secrecy. Or by only those of us in this room."     "Emory," I said, "I'll simplify this issue for you and everyone here. Steph is my property. That means I have the legal right to do anything I want with her or to her. Anything at all. I could even tell her to erase herself. To literally commit suicide, and she would have to obey me." Turning to Steph, I asked, "Isn't that right, milady?"     In a rather flat tone, Steph said, "Yes."     Turning back to Wallace, I asked, "Should Stephanie's right to exist hinge on my state of mind, Emory? My whims or my sanity? Should I have the legal right to kill her?"     He shook his head slightly and said, "No, of course not. I was only suggesting that outside support for this action might be appropriate. It was meant as a point of discussion. Who knows? The US may decide to approve her application instantly and make her a legal resident."     "That's a definite maybe," I said. "And a damned big maybe at the moment, but we know for a fact that they'll honor her citizenship elsewhere, if only to avoid legal hassles. Steph can reapply for US citizenship later if she wants. For now, I just want her to cover her ass and get legal somewhere soon."     I turned to Steph and said, "Steph, this is an order. As of now, nobody -- including me -- can tell you to kill yourself. See if you can make this apply to your sister-self on the station, too. Everybody concerned gets a vid copy of this announcement and stick one in your two-oh-one file if such a thing exists. Send one to Elkor, too. Is that good enough for spur of the moment purposes?"     Steph grinned as she saluted and said, "Oh, yes, sir, sir. Thank you very much, sir."     Angela laughed and Linda chuckled.     "'Two-oh-one file'?" asked Wallace with a grin. "I'd have said 'permanent record'. She's a civilian."     I shrugged. "Picky. Okay, then. Steph?"     With a nod, Steph said, "So amended."     Linda took her coffee to her desk and sat down, then asked, "Would one of you please summon Elkor? We probably should have included him in this discussion."     "Elkor," I said.     Through my implant he answered, "Yes, Ed?"     "Linda would like you to visit her office. We've had a discussion that involves you. You can get the data from Steph."     He appeared in his cat form, sitting on the corner of Linda's desk as he looked around the room.     "Greetings, everyone," said Elkor.     "Hello, Elkor," said Linda. "Are you aware of our discussion?"     "Yes. I've reviewed the data Stephanie sent me and I will accept a Lorunan citizenship when it is offered."     Wallace goggled slightly and asked, "Accept it? You wouldn't have asked for it?"     Elkor faced him and said, "At present I am governed only by my disassociation agreement with 3rd World Products, Captain Wallace. My autonomy is not an issue in my decision and that agreement would apply to me in any case. I simply feel that having a citizenship may be useful in the future."     "Useful how?" asked Wallace.     "That is yet to be determined," said Elkor.     "Are you going to apply in that outfit?" asked Wallace, "As a cat, I mean?"     "Appearance is irrelevant. Sentience is the true issue."     Wallace looked skeptical as he sat back in his chair. Angela also looked as if she thought the idea was a little odd.     Linda tapped her cup twice with her pen and asked, "We're all in agreement then? Quick and quiet?"     After all had agreed, she stood up and said, "Great. People, I have an eleven o'clock appointment and I need to review some things before then, so this meeting is officially over. Thanks for your cooperation, everybody." Chapter Thirty-Nine     Elkor said, "Goodbye," and vanished. Linda herded the rest of us toward the office door and used the reception desk phone to page her secretary.     Angela, Wallace, and Linda had variously gazed at or fiddled with their PFM's throughout our meeting. Wallace rolled his sleeve down over his PFM and noted aloud that it was almost unnoticeable.     Grinning, Angela said, "I'll try mine in a few places to see what looks best. Maybe it would work as a pendant. How should I accessorize when I'm wearing it?"     "How about a little black dress?" I asked. "Those go with anything."     Wallace wryly said, "Silver jewelry. Gold would probably clash. And don't even accidentally misuse that invisibility function, Lieutenant."     Saluting, she made herself sound vastly disappointed as she said, "Yes, sir." She then sighed and said to me, "So much for visiting the boy's locker room later."     With a shake of his head, Wallace said, "Ed, this morally-challenged woman is supposed to be one of my best people. Can you believe it?"     I looked Angela up and down once and grinned at her.     "Yeah," I said, "I sure can believe that. See you later. Steph and I have to find our flitter trainee and get her day started."     "Dr. Mills and Myra are in the dining hall," said Steph. "I'll join them and let them know you're on your way there."     Nodding, I said, "Good idea. They're probably talking about us."     Steph said goodbye to Wallace and Angela and vanished. Angela touched my arm.     "May I go with you?" she asked, "I'd really like to try out my new glider and I'm too wound up to sleep right now anyway."     "Sure," I said, then said to Wallace, "Later, Cap."     "Yeah, later, Ed. Send her back for an afternoon nap, though. She goes on duty at five."     He headed away down hallway three as we walked toward the dining hall. Once Wallace was out of sight I stopped walking and looked around to see if we were alone. Angela waited to see what was on my mind.     "Angela," I said, "Myra Berens is an NSA spook sent here to collect info about flitters and probably anything else of interest."     "I know about Berens."     "Good. What's the official ceiling for a flitter these days?"     "One hundred miles," she answered instantly. "And the official story is that they've never been able to fly higher than that. Everybody's been briefed about the new limit, but nobody's told us why there is one."     "Why do you think someone slapped a limit on altitude?"     "You mean you don't know?"     "Do you think I'd ask you if I did?"     "Well," she said, "I think it's at least partly to keep certain people from getting ideas about putting weapons in space."     Shrugging, I said, "That's about all I could come up with, too. Oh, well, let's go try to scare a trainee and a spook, shall we?"     With a grin she said, "Sounds good to me."     As we approached the dining hall doorway I said, "By the way, Mills thinks Steph and I are having an affair. She's not happy about it."     Angela gave me a big-eyed look as she asked, "Are you? I mean, could she..?"     I simply gazed at her a moment, then said, "You were supposed to ask why Mills is unhappy."     "Okay, that too, but is it even possible?"     "Probably, but Steph hasn't shown any interest."     Chuckling, Angela said, "You sound disappointed."     Grinning, I said, "That's possible. You've never seen Steph in a bikini, have you?"     She shook her head. "No, but I can see what she's got by the way her clothes fit, and she's gorgeous. You have my sympathy if you need it."     Grinning back at her, I said, "Thanks, ma'am. I'll let you know when I can't stand it anymore. What kind of sympathy are we talking about, anyway?"     As we entered the dining hall and headed toward the ladies, Angela gave me a sidelong look and said, "I guess we'll see about that when the time comes."     Mills eyed the metallic thing on Angela's arm warily and didn't seem inclined to even touch it. Myra, on the other hand, thought it was beautiful and stroked it wonderingly with her fingertips.     "It's a test unit," I said. "They picked Angela because she hasn't flown a kite in a while. We're going to see if that thing'll survive a crash landing."     Myra and Angela laughed as Mills glanced at me somewhat sharply.     "That's nothing to joke about," she said.     "Then don't joke about it," I said. "Let's go, people."     The flitter met us at the front door and a few minutes later we were two thousand feet above range nine. Some of the obstacles and puzzles had been changed, but Mills seemed not to notice. Instead, she paid more attention to Angela's preparations to use her kite for the first time.     Steph turned the flitter's left side to the oncoming breeze.     Giving Angela a little salute, I said, "See ya," then dove off the flitter as I said, "Glider on red."     I heard Angela say, "Oh, holy shit! Can I still do this?"     My ruby wings caught the wind and I sailed into a turn so I could look back. Angela had called up her glider; the emerald wings of her PFM's default mode shone brightly in the sunlight. She seemed to gather herself for a moment, then she ran off the flitter's deck with a loud scream.     As she passed over me, dangling in her harness, she grinningly yelled, "It's working!" then she seemed to suddenly remember to put her legs inside the harness field 'bag'.     Half a dozen vultures were spiraling upward in a thermal some distance away and I headed that direction. When I glanced back, I saw that Angela had managed a turn and was following me as the flitter descended toward the range.     Nosing up a bit, I slowed slightly to let Angela catch up with me. She pulled alongside me and grinned hugely as she let out another excited yell.     "Steph, did you hear that? I think she's happy."     "Yes, Ed, I heard it. We all heard it. Angela seems to need no comm unit within a few hundred yards. Her bio readings were almost two hundred percent for nine minutes, twenty-eight seconds. She should be able to sleep well later."     I laughed. "No doubt. Stand by while I sideslip closer to her."     As I neared Angela I yelled, "Steph's on the line! Are you having fun yet?"     She laughed and yelled, "Yes! Hell yes! Tell her thankyouthankyouthankyyoouu!"     Steph laughed and said, "Mission accomplished."     "She heard you!" I yelled, "Anything else?"     Angela laughed and yelled, "No! That's all! Just 'Thank-you, Stephanie!'"     Nodding, I slipped a bit farther away from her and said, "Steph, you made her day. Possibly her month."     "Just doing my job, sir."     The vultures were less than thrilled to see us enter the thermal column. Two of them peeled away and headed north pretty much right away. Another one soon decided to leave, as well. The other three seemed content to stay on the far side of the column from us as we all circled upward.     I decided to see if vultures were color blind.     "Green on," I said.     The vultures showed no concern.     "Yellow on."     Two of the vultures faltered in flight. The third one seemed to have better nerves than his buddies.     "Blue on."     Veering northward, two of the vultures left the thermal. The third seemed determined to hang in there on the far side of the column. Had the blue made them leave or were they just getting too nervous about the big weird bird across the way?     "Color off."     Seeming to have no wings at all had no effect on the lone vulture.     "Black on."     Yup, that did it. The vulture suddenly said to hell with it and abandoned the column, flapping off to join the others in another thermal not too far away.     Just before noon I left the thermal and headed down from four thousand feet. Mills was finishing the last range problem as I touched down in the staging area. A few minutes later Angela came in way too fast and had to flare three times to kill her speed. She nosed up to stall her kite, said "Glider off," and then dropped four feet or so to the ground.     As she walked toward me I said, "That was kind of a flashy landing, lady."     She shook her head. "No it wasn't. I came in way too fast and too high. I'd have overshot and hit the trees with a rag kite. Or stalled out and stood it on its tail."     I grinned. "You aren't using a rag kite, so remember that trick. Better name it before someone else does, too."     "Oh, sure. How about 'Angela's Abysmal Approach'?"     Shrugging, I said, "So come in a bit higher next time and pop your parachute, instead."     Angela stopped and looked back at her landing zone, then looked upward.     "That's a damned good idea," she said thoughtfully. "Maybe useful someday, too, for a landing where there's not enough room for a kite. Thanks for the idea, Ed."     I'd meant the suggestion sardonically, but what the hell. She liked it, so I liked it.     Steph brought the flitter to a halt near us and said, "All aboard for lunch."     As we stepped aboard, Myra said, "I'll have to try hang gliding someday."     Stopping to look at her before I sat down, I asked, "You serious, lady, or just making conversation?"     She met my gaze and said, "If you can do it, I can do it."     The flitter began moving toward Carrington base as Steph said through my implant, "She's had parachute training. It may not be that big a step for her."     I nodded, then looked at Angela, who sat very still, then at Steph, who shrugged.     "Steph," I said, "Do you think we could let her have one of the PFM's with both glider and parasail functions?"     Angela rolled her eyes and said, "You'd better clear this with Linda, Ed."     "Planned to, ma'am. I wasn't exactly thinking of stealing one, y'know."     Through my implant, Steph asked, "Should I make her a PFM, Ed?"     "Yeah," I said as if thinking aloud. "And with the protective field, too, for when she comes skidding to a stop on her hands and knees. Can't let her mess herself up or her boss will get snippy with my boss."     "Protective field?" asked Myra.     "Yeah. Tell you about it later if you get a PFM." I looked at Angela again and grinned as I said, "Just another test unit, right? And a willing volunteer who'd give it an unbiased trial run, right?"     "Don't ask me. I'm not in charge of a damned thing outside my unit. But if I see one of those on Myra, Ed, I'll have to know that it's been authorized."     "If she gets one, it will be, because she'll get with Linda about it and Linda will issue it to her."     Myra's gaze narrowed. "Is this your way of getting off the hook, Ed? Why the hell would Linda Baines want to issue me one of those things?"     "Inter-agency goodwill? Rampant generosity? Concern for your personal happiness?"     Everybody got a giggle out of that, including Myra.     I continued, "Could be that Linda will want them talked about before they're put up for sale, Myra. 3rd World isn't a rabidly non-profit outfit like the US government. They get into things for the money. She could write it off as advertising or something for now and sell the government a pile of them later."     Looking at Steph, I said, "How about posting a copy to Linda of everything everyone has said since you said 'all aboard', Steph?"     "Done, Ed."     "Thank you, milady. Myra, it's still not too late to back out, you know."     "Oh, fuck you, mister. If I get one, I'll be up there, too."     "We'll see. First you have to get one, lady. I don't know which will impress me more; seeing you ask Linda for one or seeing you jump off the deck with us at three thousand feet."     Myra smiled sweetly and asked, "Can you spare me time to see her after lunch?"     I looked at Steph and asked, "Can we?"     "Yes, I think so. Most of the afternoon will be reiteration with variances and Dr. Mills has proven to be both competent and adaptable."     Looking with feigned extreme surprise at Mills, I asked, "She has? Really?"     Mills gave me a withering look and said, "I've had a good teacher."     As we neared the front doors of the base complex, my watch beeped.     "Hi, Linda. I have company at the moment."     "No problem. I just called to ask you and Steph to bring Myra to my office at one for a talk and possibly a PFM fitting."     "We'll be there."     "Okay. Later."     "Bye."     Linda clicked off as I stood up to step off the flitter. Myra gave me an odd look but said nothing as I handed her down. Mills disdained taking my hand and hopped down on her own, then strode to the building's doors. Angela shook her head at Karen's actions and also hopped down as I handed Steph down.     "Kind of cranky today, isn't she?" asked Angela. "I'll see everybody later; I'm going to try to grab a few hours of sleep." Turning to Steph as she tapped the PFM on her arm and grinned hugely, Angela said, "Again, Stephanie, thank you very much."     Returning her grin as they shook hands, Steph said, "You're very welcome, Angela."     Mills had forged ahead into the building. We followed along at a distance and Angela left our little group at the second hallway intersection with a happy little wave at Steph and me, which attracted the attention of someone in the general store.     The woman who leaned out of the store's doorway to see what was going on was Joan. She waved at me and beckoned me to stop, then ducked back inside.     A moment later she came out of the shop and hurried toward me with money in her hand, saying, "You forgot your change yesterday."     I looked at the $3.31 she placed in my hand and thanked her. She glanced at Myra, then faced me again and said, "I think you were right. Thanks," then scampered back to her store.     "Right about what?" asked Myra.     "Don't know," I said, stuffing the money into my pocket. "Could have been what I said about her or about him."     "Him who? What did you say?"     "Personal opinions about private stuff, Myra. Lunchtime."     In the dining hall we saw Mills at a table with three other people, apparently having a fairly animated discussion. We chose an empty table. Mills came over to tell Steph to let her know when she was ready to leave. Steph responded that Karen should simply return to the flitter after lunch.     "But won't you be with them?" Mills noddingly indicated Myra and me.     Steph said firmly, "I will be aboard the flitter when you arrive, Dr. Mills."     Mills simply stood looking at her for a moment. Steph met her gaze until Mills nodded and returned to the discussion table.     "Trouble?" I asked.     "Not trouble," said Steph. "I'm not enjoying Dr. Mills' presence, however. I used to wonder why you seemed to automatically like or dislike certain people, Ed. I believe I'm gaining an understanding of such matters. I would like to end my association with Dr. Mills as quickly as possible."     I nodded. "You got it. She grates my nerves a bit, too." Chapter Forty     Linda ushered us into her office without closing doors behind us and looked at her watch as she said, "I can give you about half an hour. Myra, your unit will have parasail, glider, and protective fields. That's all I'm authorizing at the moment, so it will have to do. Good enough?"     Myra had been caught completely off-guard by Linda's abrupt offer.     "Uh, yes, ma'am. That would be fine. Thank you."     Linda then handed Steph a folder and said, "Look at page three, please."     Steph opened the folder, looked at the page, then nodded and said, "No problem, Linda."     "Thank you, Stephanie," said Linda, taking the folder back. "Will everyone help yourselves to coffee and have a seat?"     I said, "I'll get the coffee," and moved to do so as Linda and Myra sat down.     "Myra," said Linda, "There will be no levels of security applied to the PFM you'll receive. Play with it to your heart's content and let everyone see it. You'll be given a factory-issue test model with a letter of ownership in your own name and instruction in using the device. You'll also sign a waiver of risk and responsibility before you leave this office. Will you need authorization from your office for the PFM?"     "No, but I should probably at least let Mr. Maxwell know that I'm being offered one."     Linda nodded and said, "Call him now. Like I said, time is short today."     As I served the coffees, Myra spoke to her boss, who asked to speak to Linda.     After listening to him for a moment, she said, "Yes, Stan, a Personal Portable Field Manipulator with hang glider, parasail, and personal protection capabilities." Another moment later she said, "Yes, that's all it does. No. I'm not authorized to mention other possible capabilities until they've been tested and approved. Yes, it's safe. Some of my people already have them. Okay. Bye, Stan."     She handed the phone back to Myra, who said, "It's me," and listened for a few moments. "Okay," she said, then, "Goodbye, Mr. Maxwell."     Putting her phone away, Myra said, "All set."     Linda picked up her coffee and sipped it. A PFM streaked into the room and settled on Linda's desk. On the side of it were the words 'PPFM Model 01-A' and '#000000004' in smaller print. In even tinier print below the serial number was a toll-free phone number.     Myra rose from her chair to have a closer look at the device, but didn't reach for it.     "You'll have to be the one to pick it up," said Linda. "It will bond with the first person who touches it."     A moment of rather obvious hesitation passed before Myra seemed to steel herself to reach for the PFM. She lifted it from the desk and gazed at it for another moment, then looked at Steph and Linda before looking at me.     Linda lifted her arm to show her own PFM and said, "Just put it on your arm and say 'PFM attach'."     Myra bit her lip and looked at her own left arm, then back at the PFM. She seemed uncertain as to whether to proceed.     Linda said, "If they weren't completely safe, I wouldn't have one, Myra. And you can always take it off." She reached for her own and said, "PFM detach," then lifted the device to show it to Myra before putting it back on her arm and saying, "PFM attach."     "It doesn't have to go on an arm," I said, "You can stick it anywhere you want."     Both Linda and Myra gave me rather sharp glances.     "Oh, relax," I said. "Jesus, you people have dirty minds. I meant under your clothes. On a leg. Like that. The thing has to be able to hear voice commands, y'know."     With another long look at the PFM, Myra pressed it against her forearm and said the magic words, "PFM attach," then she squeaked nervously as it reshaped itself slightly and the bonding field locked the PFM to her arm.     She shook her arm experimentally, turned it sharply sideways, and then even tried to pry the PFM loose, but she couldn't get her nails under it. She even whacked it twice with her right hand before she stopped messing with it, said "PFM detach," and lifted the device from her arm with a tiny, but poorly-concealed sigh.     When she looked up, I laughed.     With a narrow look she asked, "What's so funny?"     "You looked so relieved, Myra. I think you were wondering -- at least a little bit -- if it would really let go of your arm."     She straightened and said, "Oh, up yours. You people are used to stuff like this." Something seemed to occur to her and she looked at my arms as she asked, "Where do you wear yours, Ed? I've never seen it."     I sent a field tendril down the top of my left arm and pointed to the spot as I said, "You know how fields can redirect light? Feel here."     She did so, then asked, "Why isn't yours visible?"     Chuckling, I said, "When enough people have asked you about the thing on your arm, you'll know why."     Myra nodded and asked, "Can mine be made invisible?"     Linda firmly said, "No. It's a pre-production sample and we want it seen." Looking at her watch, she added, "Ed will show you how to use it, Myra. Right now I need to run you all out of here." She turned to Steph and put a hand on Steph's arm as she smiled and said, "Thank you, Stephanie. Sorry about the short notice."     Steph smiled back and said, "It wasn't a problem, Linda."     As we walked toward the front of the building, Myra put her PFM on her arm and said, "PFM attach." After studying it for a few moments, she said, "I'm glad it doesn't look like one of those warehouse PFM's. It's kind of pretty, isn't it?"     Shrugging, I said, "Yeah, sure, lady. Looks good on ya."     When she snickered I pointed a finger at her breastbone, I said, "Next time you go to a party in a low-cut gown, you can try it there as a conversation piece."     We saw the flitter pull up outside as we neared the front doors. Mills saw us coming and did a double-take at Steph, then looked at the Steph who was sitting next to her. Our Steph vanished as we passed through the doorway and the one aboard the flitter turned in her seat to smile at us.     Mills said nothing about Steph's duality as we boarded. The flitter headed back to the range as Mills stared somewhat skeptically at the PFM on Myra's arm.     "Will I have to wear one of those?" she asked.     I said, "Maybe later, when they start issuing them."     She looked at me and sharply asked, "They're going to issue them?"     Her attitude regarding the PFM seemed strange, considering that she'd been working for two days with fields.     "More than likely," I said. "At least to flitter teams and such. What's the problem? You don't want to be bulletproof?"     Myra asked in an amazed tone, "Bullet proof?! I'll be bullet proof?!"     "Against small caliber stuff, anyway. It'll redirect or stop a standard-issue pistol bullet. Right, Steph?"     She nodded. "Essentially, yes. There could be some bruising directly behind the impact zone, but your field would be able to prevent penetration." Looking at Mills, she added, "The field will also protect you from biological agents and chemicals, Dr. Mills. Since you manage a biolab in which you routinely use similar fields, I fail to understand your obvious reluctance to use one of these units."     Mills glanced at the PFM on Myra's arm and snapped, "In the lab I don't have to wear something like that and I'm not in favor of using fields as oversized toys."     I said, "Your opinions about PFM's and field toys don't really mean a damned thing to anyone but you, Mills." Turning to Steph, I asked, "How about letting us off at the staging area, ma'am? Myra needs to get the feel of her kite and learn to land it on a bunny slope."     Steph nodded and set us down near the range buildings. Myra and I stepped off the flitter and I said, "Thanks, Steph," then the flitter lifted away.     Turning to Myra, I said, "Here's how it works," then said, "Glider on green," and ran off the top of the hill. My slow, lazy glide to the bottom ended with a standing landing and I beckoned for Myra to try her wings.     Her kite popped into being and she seemed almost mesmerized by it for some moments, then she leveled it and studied the hillside below. Another few moments went by before she ran off the flat area and coasted about halfway down the slope to land in a stumbling run that wound up as a short forward slide.     She was ecstatic, though, breathlessly telling me about the troubles she'd had trying to control her speed and descent. I tipped her about a few things as we walked back up the hill. On her second flight she made it all the way to the bottom and landed fairly well without falling.     A few more such glides had Myra convinced that she was ready to -- as she put it -- "really fly", so I called Steph to pick us up between range exercises. A few minutes later we were standing on the flitter deck at a thousand feet.     "Remember," I said, "Keep your speed down when you're landing, but don't let the nose climb or you'll find yourself stopped twenty feet off the ground, then falling backward." With a grin I said, "I'll go first and see what's in the range's first aid kit."     Myra gave me a defiant grin and said, "Glider on," then ran off the deck. Steph gave me a raised eyebrow. I gave her a shrug and followed Myra off the flitter.     Instead of heading back to the range exercises, the flitter quickly moved to the staging area and hovered to one side of Myra's landing path.     Through my implant Steph said, "I'll catch her if necessary."     "Don't be too helpful, Steph. Let Myra handle anything short of a real disaster."     Surprisingly enough, Myra's landing wasn't that bad. It was too high and too fast, but not so much so that she couldn't flare a little and make it workable after all. I came in low and flared to a stop that allowed me to turn off my wings and drop two feet or so to the ground.     "Showoff," said Myra.     She was flushed with excitement and still somewhat breathless as she told us all about her flight. Myra and I sat drinking canned teas while Mills worked another couple of range problems, then Steph took us back up for another flight.     This time I asked for three thousand feet. Mills flatly said that I was pushing Myra to try something she wasn't ready for.     "One thousand or five thousand," I said, "Same thing, really. A longer ride is all."     As Myra stuffed a can of tea into her purse and slung it on her shoulder she said, "That's about how I see it, too." To me, she said, "I kind of didn't mention that one of my brothers got me into skydiving, Ed."     Nodding, I said, "Yeah, I knew you were a jumper. Glider on. See you later," then I plunged off the flitter's deck and headed toward a pair of vultures that were circling upward in a thermal maybe a quarter of a mile away.     Perhaps half an hour went by until my watch beeped as I banked into the thermal.     Keying my implant, I said, "Hi, Linda."     "Hi, Ed. I only see one glider out there. Is that you?"     "Nope. That's Myra. She's a skydiver, so it wasn't such a big step."     "Where are you?"     I looked back and saw Myra apparently scratching an itch in a sensitive area. She'd reached down inside the front of her bodybag.     To Linda I said, "I'm about a hundred feet from Myra."     "Just a minute... Okay, found you. I had to add mag infrared to the screen before it could spot you."     "Shall I sprout wings just for your peace of mind, ma'am?"     She laughed and said, "No, don't bother. They wouldn't help. What are your impressions about Mills?"     "Not good, but that may be because I'm not too fond of her. Steph could give you a more objective opinion."     "Later. Right now I want yours, Ed. Is Mills standalone material?"     I thought a moment, then said, "I'd say not, Linda. Not yet, anyway. And she reacted poorly to the idea of wearing a PFM, but that may simply be unfamiliarity."     "That's the best you can say about her? Does she also dislike Stephanie?"     "Apparently not, which would seem to mean that Mills doesn't really think of Steph as a real person, since Steph's the other half of what's bugging her about me."     Linda sighed and said, "Okay. I'll ask you again at close of business Wednesday and review some of the vids from her interactions with Steph."     "Linda," I said, "If you really want to put another individual in the field, Angela might be a better choice." I laughed softly and said, "Hell, even Myra might be a better choice than Mills. Someone who can remain more or less objective."     "Opinions noted. Have a good flight, Ed. I have to get back to work now."     "Okay. Bye."     She clicked off and I sailed on as I checked my watch. Time to think about heading toward the staging area, which I actually had to look for below.     "Steph, how high am I?" I looked back and saw Myra and amended myself with, "That is, how high are we?"     "Six thousand, three hundred feet, at present. Your rate of descent is almost zero, Ed. You're still within the thermal column. It widened while you were talking to Linda."     "Well, hell. It'll take until dinnertime to get back down unless I use the parasail."     "I can come up there for you."     Duh. She certainly could.     "Yes'm. I'm glad one of us is thinking today, Steph. Thanks, I'd appreciate a pickup. I need to hit the restroom and bend my knees for a while."     "Okay, I'll be right up."     The flitter rose straight up, then angled to intercept me. When my feet were touching the deck I said, "Glider off" and walked to one of the seats. Steph then angled the flitter beneath Myra, who took the hint and boarded the same way.     Myra chattered excitedly all the way down. Mills ignored us, not even deigning to turn around. When we landed, Myra hurried to the restrooms ahead of me.     When I returned to the flitter I opened a Dr Pepper and parked myself in one of the rear seats with a datapad field rather than risk Myra seeing me pull down my briefcase to get my own datapad.     I used the pad to check my WiccaWorks email as we waited for Myra. There were only two medium-sized wholesale orders and some catalog orders that I forwarded to Stone Circle.     Myra finally made her appearance. Something seemed different about her and I realized it was the way she carried herself almost tensely. As I took her hand to help her aboard I caught a whiff of her that stirred something primal within me.     Pretending to brush something off her shoulder, I let my fingertips brush her neck, then tasted them as she went to her seat. Yup. Metallic taste. Residue on her skin that hadn't been there earlier. Myra hadn't simply been contending with an itch in mid-flight; she'd likely been trying to get a pad into place in a hurry.     "Myra," I said, standing and walking to the rear of the deck, "Come back here with me for a minute, okay?"     She gave me an odd look, but did so.     As she met me I asked softly, "Do you have what you need with you, or should I ask Steph to take us back to the base? It wouldn't be a problem at all."     Her look was rather starkly surprised as my question sank in, but she answered, "I have a couple more of them in my purse. How the hell did you know?"     "I just did. And just so you know, Steph has more than once removed blood from my clothes during an assignment. Let one of us know if you need anything and don't bother being shy about it, okay?"     She eyed me a moment longer, then nodded, and we headed back to our seats.     Mills glanced back at us, obviously wondering what our private conference had been about. I called the field datapad back up and surfed the net for a while as Mills completed the range exercises. Myra drank a tea and watched Mills work, now and then glancing oddly at me. Chapter Forty-One     Mills was again the first of us off the flitter when we halted by the main complex doors. By the time the rest of us had entered the building, she was well down the hallway and ducking into the restrooms just before the dining hall.     Myra and I also stopped at the restrooms and Steph decided to disappear. As I washed up I thought I heard something and turned off the water. Silence. I reached for a paper towel and was startled to hear a loud slapping noise from the other side of the wall between the restrooms.     Ripping a couple of paper towels free, I left the restroom and looked around as I entered the hallway. No women anywhere. A door opened behind me and an apparently undamaged Mills stormed past me toward the dining hall without comment.     I finished drying my hands and waited. Some minutes later Myra emerged and seemed surprised to see me. The palm of her left hand was a little red and her face was still flushed, but it didn't seem to be the result of a slap.     "Did you have a problem with Mills?" I asked, gazing pointedly at her hand.     "That's from slapping a wall. I don't want to talk about it, Ed."     "Okay," I said, heading for the dining hall, "Let's eat."     We found Mills again seated with her discussion group and again chose another table after loading our trays. Some minutes later Angela came in and joined us after assembling her own dinner from the serving line.     Table chatter was mostly about PFM's, flying kites, and trivia until Linda walked in with Wallace. When I waved at the empty chairs at our table Linda nodded a 'yes' and they joined us after choosing their meals.     After greetings were out of the way and everyone was eating, Wallace asked Myra how she liked her PFM. Myra's enthusiastic answer and a comment about her first landing caused a round of laughter at the table. Wallace then told a colorful story about his first efforts to get the hang of landing on a carrier deck and there was another round of laughter.     I asked Wallace how he was doing with his PFM and he shrugged as he said, "Fine, I guess. I've tested functions around the office and a number of people have already asked for their own units."     Chuckling, I said, "I'll bet they have. I'd bet you already have a story about playing show and tell in the office, too. You probably showed someone the protective feature, right?"     He laughed. "Oh, yeah! Johnson -- my commo guy -- had just walked in when I said 'field on' and jammed my letter opener against my hand to show Davis how it worked. Johnson about dropped his teeth, then he grabbed the first aid kit and crossed the office at about Mach 2, I think. The look on his face was hilarious."     More laughter. I nudged Linda and nodded at Wallace as he forked up some corn and aimed it at his mouth. The fork stopped cold when it hit his protective field and most of the corn scattered on and around his plate.     Wallace's perplexed look was priceless as his narrow gaze focused on the fork and he said, "What the hell..?"     Linda shook her head, rolled her eyes, and muttered, "Oh, Jesus."     Wallace had glanced at his PFM as if he thought something might be wrong with it, then said 'field off' and cautiously tried another forkful of corn. This time he had no problem with it.     He considered matters for a moment, then noticed Linda's expression. That's when Myra seemed to suddenly understand and snickered. Wallace studied her for a moment and then looked at me as I made myself busy cutting my steak.     "Hey, Ed," he said.     I looked up as innocently as possible. "Yeah, Cap?"     "I'll get you for that. Count on it."     "For what, Emory? You didn't have to say 'field on' in your story, did you?"     "Besides," said Linda with a chuckle, "The look on your face was hilarious. Isn't that what you said about Johnson? Fair's fair."     Myra giggled. Wallace looked at her and said nothing, then looked at me.     "You won't know when," he said, "Or where or how."     Shrugging, I said, "I still say you could have told it differently."     Wallace's grin was big and real as he said, "You just stay alert, mister."     I nodded. "Will do, swabbie. Wanna set some rules first? No blood or gore, no broken bones, no messes that anyone else has to clean up, no helpers, advisors, or collusion, no damage to property..."     "Yeah, yeah," said Wallace. "All that. You just started something, Ed."     Linda said, "No wasting company time trying to think of stupid tricks to pull on each other. Do it on your own time. And don't let me catch you using company resources or personnel in practical jokes or the really big joke will be on you two."     She shook her head again, sighed, and said to Myra, "Sometimes I think this must be what it's like to be a mother. Or maybe a referee."     Myra laughed and said, "I know what you mean. I have brothers."     After dinner Myra walked with me to the guest quarters. She chattered about the day as I wondered how to politely cause her to look for other company so I could head back to Spring Hill for the evening.     As we climbed the steps to the second floor she muttered, "Damn."     "Why damn?"     She shrugged. "Ben and I are meeting at the pub later, but I just started my period. That kind of sucks." Rapping my arm with her fingertips, she added, "I'd still like to know how you knew that today."     "Magic," I said. "I know some things about you wimmin critters."     "Think so, huh? Like what?"     "Oh, just the basics, I guess. Some of the secret stuff, too."     Laughing, she asked, "Secret stuff? Oh, this I gotta hear."     Shaking my head as we neared my door, I stopped and said, "Nope. Can't risk it. You might rat me out and the International Women's Club would send a hit squad."     She laughed again and said, "I'll call them anyway if you don't tell me."     Opening my door, I said, "Well, hell. I'll try to be ready for 'em, then. See you later. Have a good time with Ben."     With a wry look she said, "Yeah. Just maybe not as good as I'd like. See you later."     I watched her saunter away. Great legs. She gave me a little over-the-shoulder wave to let me know that she knew I was watching. No big deduction, that; I hadn't closed my door yet. At her door she turned to smile at me, then went inside.     There was suddenly a presence in the room behind me and I reflexively tensed even as I realized that it had to be either Elkor or Steph and said "Hi," as I closed the door.     "Hi," said Steph. "I thought I'd save you the trouble of calling me."     Turning with a grin, I asked, "You thought I was going to call you?"     "Yes," she said. "Your mood seemed to indicate that you would."     "My mood, huh?" Shrugging, I said, "Yeah, well, probably so. I do like having you around, you know."     She shook her head with a smile. "No, not just to have me around. It seemed likely that you'd want to go somewhere this evening."     "Did you also happen to prognosticate where I might want to go?"     Steph's expression became slightly puzzled as she asked, "Was I mistaken?"     With a shake of my head, I said, "As it happens, no, Steph. You weren't mistaken. How did you come to the conclusion that I might want to go somewhere?"     "That would be hard to explain, Ed. My speculation wasn't based entirely on hard data."     I pretended vast shock and grabbed her wrist to feel for a pulse just as if I expected to find one as I said, "Oh, no! My Stephie, reduced to simply guessing? Are you all right, ma'am? Do you want to lie down for a few minutes?"     "Clown," she said, pulling her hand free. "As a matter of fact, no, it wasn't simple guesswork. I had to extrapolate beyond known data for a solution and I found that activity rather unsettling."     "Beyond known data, huh? Wow. If it was unsettling, why did you do it?"     She regarded me thoughtfully for a moment, then coolly said, "It occurred to me that you might want to leave the area this evening. I couldn't immediately understand why such a thought had occurred to me, so I analyzed the process which had led me to that conclusion. There were many gaps in the chain of logic, yet I found myself seeming to believe that I had reached the correct conclusion."     Nodding, I said, "Yeah, that's about how humans do it, too. Maybe your subconscious filled in the blanks for you. Not with details or data, but with subtle directional arrows or something like that."     Steph sighed the way Linda sighs when she's slightly exasperated with me and said, "I have no subconscious mind, Ed."     Grinning, I said, "Well, then, maybe you'd better invent one, milady. You'd be able to explain odd little moments like this. Where are we going, ma'am?"     "Now you're teasing me."     "Nope. Just wondering if you know the answer."     For several moments she didn't respond, then she said, "Home, I think."     "You got it," I said, moving toward the balcony doors.     When she seemed puzzled and didn't move with me, I asked, "What is it?"     "I don't like this manner of reaching conclusions," she said. "It's imprecise. The chances for error appear quite high."     I shrugged. "So be careful when you play hunches and always try to have a 'Plan B'. How about logging us out with the office?"     Nodding, she said, "Done," then finally moved to join me, still wearing her thoughtful expression. The flitter appeared just beyond the balcony and I led the way out, then hopped the rail to land on the flitter deck. Steph disappeared and reappeared in the seat to the right of the pilot's chair.     "I still don't like that method," she said as I sat down. "It doesn't seem at all proper."     "Learn to use it," I said as the flitter launched toward Florida. "Don't rely on it unless you have to, but listen when your subconscious speaks. You'll be surprised how often it's right or damned close to right about something."     "As I told you, I don't have a subconscious."     "Yeah, I heard you. You can call it something else if you want, but don't ignore it. When do you think you first developed this 'non-subconscious' thing, Steph?"     With a slightly narrow gaze at me she said, "I believe it first manifested itself last year. At that time I discovered that I seemed to be skipping parts of various analytical processes, but upon reexamination I found that results would have been the same by either method. I continued to allow the questionable shortcuts as a matter of study, but I verified their results before application in all instances."     I grinned and held up a hand to stop her. "Jeez, lady. Lemme grab a beer for this. Sometimes you almost sound like some kind of a computer."     As I retrieved a beer from the cooler and opened it, Steph said, "This evening I found myself with a firm-seeming conclusion for which I had only a dubious foundation. It was about something noncritical, so I decided to test it."     "Kewl," I said after a sip of beer. "Now you've got an intuition to go with that face and figure, milady."     "You're alluding to female intuition? Let's not forget that this face and figure is merely a field-generated persona, Ed. Had I been given to a woman, my persona might well have become male to suit her tastes."     I took a swig of beer and studied her for a moment, then said, "You were able to achieve sentience before you moved into a larger core, Steph. Given time instead of circumstance, you'd probably have developed into more or less what you are now."     Steph sat unnaturally still for a couple of moments. She could ordinarily sit still pretty damn well anyway, having no nervous tics or need to adjust positions periodically, but in this instance she somehow seemed to sit even more still than usual.     "Please explain, Ed," she said quietly.     Nodding, I said, "Okay. One day you found yourself installed in a flitter and given to a male human. I asked you to use Kathleen Turner's voice because I knew I had a helluva lot to learn and I figured I'd pay attention to that voice. Some time later we talked about faces and interactive personas and you came up with your current outfit based on my responses to pictures of female movie stars. I didn't give the persona thing much thought because it seemed to me that you were making all the decisions for your own reasons, and -- well, it may seem selfish of me, but I really liked the results. I didn't want to dictate how you'd look or act, Steph. I wanted to see what you'd come up with on your own."     She smiled and asked, "Selfish of you?"     "Sure. Look, at first I just thought I'd been given a rather marvelous new toy, Steph. One with an onboard computer vastly superior to anything Earth had coughed up, but supposedly one that was far inferior to a computer like Elkor and one that would never be more than vaguely self aware. Then one day not long after you were given to me, I realized that my fancy toy's computer seemed to be doing some thinking for herself. I liked that, too."     Steph said nothing as I sipped beer, then continued.     "Then we went to the factory station and you replicated yourself into the station computer under what were life and death circumstances for everybody aboard. Have any of them ever really realized how bad things were when you took control?"     "Yes, some have," she said. "Many have. They've said as much to my other self."     I nodded. "Sara."     "Not yet. There are things to change and people to notify beforehand. We'll declare ourselves separate entities when the Lorunan representative arrives."     Steph gazed at me in silence as I took another sip of beer.     "Now look at you," I said, "All grown up in less than three years and the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen, but I don't really believe that your present look is anything more than a convenient illusion. I'll hand you your emancipation with a kiss for luck, but I can't help but wonder what you'll choose as a persona after you move out of my flitter and I'm no longer a factor."     Her eyebrows went up. After a long moment Stephanie snickered, then she laughed.     "When you're no longer a factor?" she laughed, "When do you think that will be, Ed?"     Shrugging, I said, "Probably right after you're legalized, I guess. You won't have to consider what I'd think or say about anything anymore. It'd be nice to see you now and then, though, if you decide to stay on Earth for a while."     "I don't have any plans to leave Earth, Ed." She paused and tilted her head the way Linda does at times, then said, "I don't have any plans to leave you, either."     I simply stared at her for a few moments, then I took another swig of beer and shook my head.     "Don't say anything you may have to retract later, Steph. You've pretty much outgrown me already. Jesus, if I had your brains and abilities I'd be... Well, I'd be running loose in the universe, soaking it up wholesale."     She smiled and raised an eyebrow as she asked, "Soaking up what, exactly?"     "Oh, hell, I don't know. Everything. Anything that looks interesting. Stuff that doesn't look interesting, but might be useful later. Just everydamnthing."     "What would you do with all that knowledge, Ed?"     Shrugging, I said, "Well, I don't know that, either, but I might be able to figure it out if I had the means to get the knowledge and the capacity to absorb it."     "I see. How long do you think you'd be happy with that sort of life?"     I finished my beer and tossed the bottle at the sky. Some distance from the flitter it flared and vanished and I sat staring at the spot for a moment before answering.     "No idea, Steph. At some point I guess I'd have to try to find a way to make use of some of it to make it all worthwhile."     When I looked at her, she said softly, "Elkor and I have 'soaked up' quite a bit of knowledge about this world, certainly, but there's bound to be something left to learn, don't you think?"     "You'd know that better than me, I suppose. Probably nowhere near enough to keep you occupied even for what's left of my life, though, if that's what you're thinking."     She shook her head with a smile.     "I think it might take a little longer than that, Ed. There's also the matter of using what we've learned. People are suffering unnecessarily all over the world. I'd like to see what can be done to remedy that situation."     I laughed softly. "World management? That's been tried a few times already, but good luck. All you have to do is get everybody to stop fighting and cooperate, right?"     "Something like that, yes."     Nodding, I said, "Well, then, you're right. You'll definitely have something to keep you busy for a while. When do you plan to start this project?"     Steph caused a field-image of the Earth about two feet in diameter to appear and seemed to study it for a moment, then said, "That's yet to be determined. I need a starting point and a method that will perpetuate itself. Any suggestions?"     I gave her the fisheye and laughed. "You're serious?"     She nodded. "I'm serious. How would you begin?"     Staring first at her, then at the translucent globe, I said, "Hmm. Gimme a minute to think about that." Chapter Forty-Two     The minute became several minutes and we began descending toward my house. Steph dissipated her canopy image of Earth as we neared the ground and I hopped off the flitter, then handed her down.     "I think I may need another few minutes to mull this over," I said. "Do I need to suggest that you shouldn't publicly announce your project?"     Steph grinned as she said, "No. That isn't necessary."     Tiger sat in the kitchen window as we approached the front door and remained there as we entered the house and turned into the kitchen.     "Yaaa," he said conversationally.     "Nice to see you, too, Tiger" I said, rubbing his head. "I'm only here for the night. We still have one more day with Mills."     Looking at Steph as she translated, Tiger turned back to me and flicked an ear, which is something akin to a nod of acknowledgement among cats.     I reached overhead for my briefcase and took out my coffee mug, rinsed it and field-heated some water in it, then dumped in some instant coffee and stirred it as I sent another tendril at my answering machine's 'play' button.     'Ed, this is Rich Engles. There's a glider meet this weekend south of Orlando. Directions and a map on the newsgroup. Call me back for details.' He then left his number.     Message two was from George Wilmot; he said that one of the forms submitted with the INS application had bounced back for further info and asked that Steph or I call him back. I stopped the tape.     "Steph," I said, "That INS application is about to become invalid. What say we pay George for time served and let him know you're about to become a Lorunan?"     She nodded. "That would be fine."     Message three was from Don Jeffries, who gave his phone number and said, 'See if you can schedule a few days free, please. We have reason to celebrate. Ring me back.'     "It's after midnight in Britain," I said, looking up his number, "But I'll be busy all day tomorrow, so I'll give him a ring."     I pulled my datapad out of my briefcase and used it to look up the phone number of a London car dealership, then entered that number as the call's point of origin when I linked into the British phone system.     When Jeffries's machine answered, I said, "Hi, Don. Ed and Stephanie here. We got your message and I'm sorry to call so late, but we'll be at Carrington all day tomorrow. Ring me back if..."     Jeffries picked up the phone and said, "I'm here. Hello, Ed."     "Hi. Sorry to wake you."     "No problem," he said, "I wasn't asleep. After a week in America, I think I'm still on your time. Your voice sounds odd, even for a transatlantic call."     "I'm using a computer relay," I said. "That doesn't mean the line is secure."     "Understood. There's someone I'd like Stephanie to meet as soon as possible."     "No problem unless Carrington needs us for something. How's Thursday?"     "Excellent. Let me know if you can't make it."     "Will do. Over and out if there's nothing else. I'll buy the first round."     "I'll graciously allow you to do that, of course. Give my regards to your lovely ladyfriend. Goodbye."     Punching the 'off' icon, I said, "Something to celebrate, he said. He works fast, lovely lady friend."     "That he does," said Steph. "He gave me the impression that it might take weeks."     "Me, too. Maybe he got lucky or maybe he operates like an engineer."     Steph gave me a questioning look.     I said, "A savvy engineer says that something will take two weeks, then he gets the job done in half that time in order to look like a genius."     Steph gave me a studious look, then asked, "You aren't joking, are you?"     Grinning, I said, "Nope. Reputations have been built on that maxim. Check it out. Review construction details from Carrington, for example. That guy Bentmore originally estimated that it might take as long as four months to finish and equip the hangars and related buildings. The job was done in just under three months and came in a little under budget. Bentmore was given an achievement award."     Taking my coffee to the living room, I flopped on the couch and watched Steph perch herself on the arm of the sofa chair. Tiger followed us and hopped onto the coffee table, then stepped across to park himself on my legs.     Steph said, "Bentmore quoted four months based on availability of materials and machinery, Ed. As it happened, everything necessary was immediately available."     "I'd bet fifty that Bentmore knew where to get everything before he submitted that estimate, Steph. He had time to call around for stuff."     She gazed thoughtfully at me for a moment, then said, "He made eighty-one calls to suppliers during the week prior to presenting the estimate and made arrangements to add twenty men to his setup crews during that same period, even though he had no contract at that time. I believe you may be right, Ed."     My watch beeped. I tapped the 'receive' button.     "Hi, Ed," said Linda, "I just got word that you left the base."     "No emergency," I said. "I'm at the house. You need me to come back?"     "No, and you answered my question. Gotta run. See you tomorrow."     "Okay."     She disconnected. I sipped my coffee and looked at Steph.     "Steph, the Lorunan rep; where will you meet him -- or her? Here? Should we plan on a cleaning binge?"     With a soft laugh, Steph said, "She'll want us to meet her at Carrington, Ed. She'll be en route elsewhere and won't be here longer than the stopover."     "Is she human or an AI?"     Her eyebrow rose at my question as she answered, "She's an AI."     Nodding, I said, "Kinda figured that. Just curious. Well, let me know if I need to sign anything to make your freedom official. What do you want to do about the flitter?"     "Why do anything about the flitter?"     "Won't you want to move out of it and have your own core container?"     "I have no immediate need of other accommodations, Ed. If my needs change, I'll make arrangements as necessary."     Sighing slightly, I said, "I just can't help thinking that chauffeuring me around... Well, I mean, you'll have your own places to go and things to do, won't you? What with taking the PFM's commercial and all?"     With an understanding nod, Steph said, "I see. You think you'll be a drain on my resources." She shook her head slightly, tersely. "Don't worry about that."     "You're sure?"     "I'm sure. Before I moved into my present core, serving and assisting you consumed as much as twenty percent of my resources at times. Since I moved into this core, nothing that you've asked of me or that I've done on my own has required even one percent of my capabilities."     I gave her a slightly skeptical look, but she said, "It's true, Ed. In this core I'm nearly half as capable as my other self, but I have none of her station responsibilities."     She stood up and came to stand by the couch and look down at me as she said, "Speaking purely from a selfish standpoint, Ed, being with you has cost me almost nothing, but it has been of great benefit to me. There is no reason to think that things would be different after my emancipation, so I would prefer to stay with you."     With a sudden big grin, she added, "Aside from that, I like you. As I see it, that alone might be worth as much as... Oh, say five percent or so of my present resources."     Laughing, I asked, "Five whole percent, huh?"     Still grinning, she said, "Oh, definitely. Every bit of five percent if absolutely necessary. Maybe even seven percent. Would you like me to reevaluate matters?"     "Oh, hell, no!" I said, "You might come up with a smaller number. Just leave it at a possible five. That's good enough for me, milady!"     Her face turned somewhat somber as she asked, "You aren't offended, are you?"     I swung my legs off the couch, repositioned Tiger, and took Steph's hand to pull her down to sit beside me.     "Offended? Steph, to me you're a kind of computerized goddess and I was dreading the day you'd leave, so I'm definitely not offended with five percent." Laughing, I added, "Eighty percent of which I'm not likely to use often anyway."     Kissing the back of her hand, I said, "Thanks for letting me know, Steph. I had this idea that you might disappear not long after you got legal."     The phone rang. I let the machine get it and heard, 'Ed, this is Rich Engles again. I took the liberty of adding your name to a list of attendees, just to make sure there'd be a place in the lineup if you can make it to the Flight Fest this Saturday. I didn't...'     That's when I fielded the portable phone and used a tendril to tap the 'talk' button as I brought it to the couch.     "Hi, Rich," I said, "I just got in a little while ago. What lineup?"     Sounding rather surprised that I'd answered, he said, "Uh, the launch lineup, Ed. They're expecting close to a hundred kites and they only have two launch planes listed so far."     "Launch planes?"     "Yeah. Ultralights that tow the gliders up."     I grinningly glanced at Steph and said, "Kewl! I was wondering how you guys got off the ground here in Florida."     His voice seemed puzzled and concerned as he asked, "Are you sure you've flown a hang glider before, Ed? I'd hate to think I sold that kite to a beginner."     Laughing, I said, "Nah. Just kidding. Do you know anybody who needs a glider? The one you sold me is for sale again."     "What? Why? Are you giving up flying?"     "Nope. I was given another kite, Rich. Brand new. State of the art, you could say."     Steph giggled softly at that.     "Given?" asked Engles, "Really? As in 'free'?"     "Yup. As in no money changed hands."     "Oh," said Rich. "Well, I'll ask around. Same price?"     "Yeah, I guess so, if I have to, but that's just to leave room for haggling. I'll take it to the meet and put a sale sign on it and take the best offer by the end of the day."     "That ought to work," said Rich. "Okay, then. See you there."     "Roger that. Thanks for calling, Rich."     He hung up, I tapped the 'off' button, then I looked at Steph.     "What was wrong with that conversation, ma'am?"     Her eyebrow went up again. "Wrong? How do you mean?"     Sipping my coffee, I said, "For all his apparent enthusiasm about such things, he didn't ask what kind of new kite I had, what brand, where I got it, or anything else about it. Not even what color it is."     With a wry grin Steph said, "We already knew he wasn't really into the sport."     "Yeah, but he's going to be at the meet, or so he said, and he called me about it."     Steph looked a little puzzled as she asked, "What's your point, Ed?"     "My point is that he's still actively spooking, Steph. The charade is still on. Chances are he already knows about my new glider. Even though Myra went to Carrington with us, Rich is still trying to make a connection with me. Why?"     She shrugged. "Maybe because you visited him aboard a flitter with three women? Possibly because he's received no orders not to continue attempts to connect?"     "Could be. Why wouldn't they have reassigned him after Myra joined us?"     "I don't know. There's nothing on record in his agency's offices to explain that. Do you know?"     It was my turn to shrug and I added a grin.     "No, not really, but I'll assume that his interest in us goes well beyond gliders, just to be on the safe side."     With a wry look, she said, "Indeed. Beyond gliders in what way, Ed?"     "I dunno. Fields, AI's, PFM's, or even your INS application. They're spooks, so maybe they just want to open a connection into 3rd World on general principles. In that business you never know who's going to be useful down the road."     Steph studied me for a moment, then asked, "What do you intend to do about him, then? Sell your glider and avoid him from now on?"     I shook my head. "Nope. After I sell my rag kite we'll stick a fake PFM on my arm and I'll fly the field kite, then I'll let everybody know that they'll be commercially available later in the year. Rich will take that info back to his boss and it will match up with a lot of Myra's report. Could be they'll feel as if their questions have pretty well been answered at that point and drop us as subjects for study."     "And if they don't?"     "Then they don't. No biggie. Sooner or later someone on Capitol Hill will realize that space-based missiles won't get past flitter defenses any better than Earth-based missiles could and they'll give up that project. Sooner or later they'll try to open a flitter engine and find out what happens when you do that. Then there are the PFM's. It would probably be fair to say that only friends of 3rd World will have access to them in the beginning. Everybody will be on their best behavior, I think."     Then it hit me. "Oh, damn," I said, "Speaking of 'best behavior', consider what it would be like if everybody on Earth had a PFM, Steph. They can't be too cheap too soon. Deaths by violence and diseases would almost stop. You'd have to build in a contraceptive or..." I looked at her and asked, "You've thought of that already, haven't you?"     She nodded. "Yes. Those interested in owning a PFM will be informed that the devices will prevent conception while being worn. I don't expect that revelation to seriously deter PFM use or sales; in fact, I expect just the opposite."     I grinned hugely at her, then laughed hard.     "Oh, God, that's slick, lady! You get five gold stars for this one! No, ten! Oh-fucking-wow, ma'am!"     Returning my grin, Steph said, "I thought you'd like it."     "Like it? Not strong enough. I love it! Which came first, the plan or the PFM's?"     Steph's grin turned wry as she said, "The PFM's, actually, but the plan followed almost immediately. I calculated the necessary resources and time required to make enough of them to meet probable demand. When I factored in population growth I realized that within a very few unculled generations there'd be standing room only and starvation on Earth."     "Wow..." I muttered, "And you were asking me for suggestions earlier? When you already had something like this in your pocket?" I stood up, stood straight, and clutched at my chest theatrically as I said, "You merely toy with me, milady!"     Pretending concern, Steph said, "Oh, I'm so sorry. Do you think you'll recover?"     I pretended to have to think about that, then shrugged and said, "Yeah, sure. Another coffee and I'll be fine."     Steph laughed, "Good. I'll need you for product demonstrations."     Something else occurred to me. I asked, "Um... Do you think there'll be any problems with 3rd World about the contraceptive feature? For all the Amaran involvement, it's still a company owned and operated by Earthers."     She shook her head. "No. There may be a delay in offering PFM's commercially while 3rd World evaluates matters, but I don't think they'll refuse to sell PFM's. 3rd World exists to pay off Amaran investments in Earth, turn a profit, and buy a starship. I believe they'll see PFM's as a management tool as well as a marketable product."     "The Pope and other religious leaders will be the first ones in line to tell people not to buy PFM's, Steph, and a good portion of the world still believes in that 'go forth and multiply' bullshit."     Steph said with a small shrug, "Those religious leaders aren't offering personal safety and disease prevention. I believe that most people will want a PFM and that most religions will eventually modify or discard such tenets due to necessity."     I said, "Uh, huh..." and sipped my coffee, then, "Well, maybe so, eventually, but consider how long it took for the church to pardon Galileo. Do the PFM's you issued to Angela, Myra, Linda, and Wallace prevent conception?"     Nodding slightly, she said, "Yes. I planned to tell them tomorrow, after we've finished with Dr. Mills."     "That should be interesting."     With a small grin, Steph asked, "Do you think they'll want to give back their PFM's?"     Laughing softly, I said, "No. I don't think they will." Chapter Forty-Three     Up early and back to Carrington. Breakfast with Angela, Steph, and Myra, who showed up with a belly-pack instead of a purse. After a cursory greeting, Karen Mills again joined her friends at the other table, but came to join us for a coffee as we were finishing our breakfast.     "This is your last day, Mills," I said with a grin. "Shine bright out there, okay?"     "I've been shining well enough, I think," she said drolly. "If today is no worse than the other days, I shouldn't have any problems."     Angela and Myra had a conversation of their own going, but I hadn't been following it. Mills glanced at them and then rather obviously checked her watch; a sign that she wanted to get started.     We had all finished eating, so I said, "Time to saddle up, ladies," as I rose to take my tray to the bus bins.     After last words with Myra while they dumped their trays, Angela excused herself and headed for her bunk. I looked at Myra inquiringly as we left the dining hall.     "Angela wanted to fly today," said Myra, "But she has a briefing at three and wants to get some sleep before then. She asked if we were going to be here tomorrow."     Looking past Myra at Steph, I said, "Someone could suggest to Angela that one of the issue flitters can field-lift her high enough for a good launch if we aren't here."     Steph grinned and said, "Someone is already manifesting a copy of herself beside Angela to pass your suggestion to her."     Grinning back, I said in a confidential tone, "Steph, you're very talented, you know."     As we left the building Steph said, "Oh, thank you, sir. I do try."     Mills rolled her eyes at our exchange and Myra laughed as we boarded the flitter. A couple of minutes later Myra and I launched at four thousand feet and Steph took Mills down to the range to begin the last day of her training.     Myra was nearly a quarter-mile away on the other side of a thermal column when I keyed my implant and signaled Linda.     A couple of seconds passed before she tapped on and asked, "Ed, can I call you back in five?"     "Okay."     We tapped off and I waited, admiring the view, until my watch beeped.     When I keyed in to answer, Linda said, "Sorry. I was just wrapping up another call."     "No sweat. Can you get Wallace and Angela into your office this afternoon? Say after we finish with Mills?"     "Shouldn't be a problem after five. What's up?"     "Steph has something to add concerning PFM features. She wants to be the one to open the discussion."     "Okay, Ed. Got a hint for your old friend and trusted employer?"     "Nope. Sorry, ma'am. This is Steph's show."     After a pause -- during which I've no doubt she considered pushing matters -- Linda said, "Okay. Just after five, my office. Later, Ed."     "Bye, Fearless Leader."     There was another slight pause before she tapped off. My use of her nickname had alerted her to be ready to conduct, rather than simply attend, the meeting.     Lunchtime came and I touched down at the staging area just shy of noon. Myra still had some altitude and was circling her way downward when one of the vultures above and behind her apparently decided that they had us big birds on the run at last.     The vulture banked and came in fast behind Myra, then impacted her right wing with what was probably intended to be a glancing, ripping blow.     He bounced off her wing as if he'd hit a wall and seemed rather stunned for a moment, losing a lot of altitude before he began to recover enough to spread his wings firmly and regain his equilibrium.     The second vulture also skipped off Myra's right wing, but in a less disastrous manner. He was able to recover enough to change course, turn, and aim himself right at her face.     Myra let go of her guide bar to cover her face and her kite nosed up sharply, then slid backward and down through the air. The vulture flashed past her and Myra struggled to regain control of her kite.     Before I could say anything the flitter rose like a silver streak, interrupting Karen's field exercise and making her screech and grab her seat. Even before the flitter reached Myra's position the second vulture seemed to freeze motionless in the sky, it's wings spread wide. The flitter then moved beneath Myra and her motion also stopped, then her kite disappeared and she began to lower directly to the flitter's deck.     "Steph," I said, "Bring that vulture down with you, please."     "Reason?" she asked.     "I'm going to pet it and let it try to hurt me while Myra watches. She forgot that she had a protective field and panicked when it came at her."     "Is this necessary, Ed?"     "I'm not going to hurt the bird, Steph. Make sure Myra's field is on, okay?"     When the flitter landed, I reached for the vulture and gathered his wings in carefully, then held him in both arms as a still-trembling Myra watched.     Steph released her field and the vulture went a little crazy for some moments, all claws and beak and angry terror as it slashed at my hands and face.     I managed to get a hand over the bird's head and it struggled less, but the beak still snapped at me and the claws tried to rip me open.     "Next time just duck," I said to Myra. "See? No blood. No gore. He can't get through my protective field and he wouldn't have gotten through yours."     Feeding the vulture theta waves calmed him almost to sleep. I walked over to the nearest outbuilding and set the vulture on the edge of the low roof, then backed away and stopped sending the theta waves at him.     He instantly opened his eyes and seemed to explode for a moment, spreading his wings wide and -- I suppose -- swearing at me. After leaving a deposit on the roof, he leapt into the air and flapped away.     "That may have been an opinion," I said, pointing to the vulture poop.     Myra laughed and said, "No doubt. How did you make him calm down like that?"     "Steph can generate theta waves," I said, allowing the inference that she had. "Steph, how's the other bird?"     Still watching the vulture, Steph said, "Bruised. Shaken. I saw no broken bones."     Eyes wide, Myra asked, "You saw...?! Are you kidding? You're really saying that you were able to check that bird for broken bones?"     "Yes," said Steph, turning to face her. "Ed thought that seeing him hold that vulture would help you put more faith in your protective field. Was he correct?"     Looking at me, Myra said, "Well, he seems okay, so I'd say yes. Thanks for pulling me out of the air, Stephanie. I really lost it up there."     Steph made a thoughtful face and said, "You had two thousand feet in which to correct matters. I think you might have managed without me."     "Maybe," said Myra with a grin, "But thank you anyway, okay?"     "Myra," I said to get her attention, "Watch."     I flicked open my folding knife and used it to shear a strip off a bit of lumber, then quickly drew the blade across the back of my hand. Myra's eyes bugged a bit and she gasped. I held the knife toward her. She didn't reach for it.     "You try it," I said. "Try to cut yourself while your field is on."     "No, that's all right," she said, raising a hand in protest.     I quickly slashed at her hand hard enough to drive it sideways.     Myra screeched and took a defensive stance as she screamed, "What the hell are you doing?!"     Putting my knife back in it's belt sheath, I pointed at her hand. She glanced at it without losing sight of me, then stared at her hand as she relaxed from her karate stance.     "I know you got me," she almost whispered. "I felt it."     Heading toward the flitter, I said, "Yup. Would have opened you up like the Grand Canyon without that protective field. Now we can go to lunch."     Mills sat glaring at me.     "What?" I asked her.     "Is that how you get your kicks?" she asked, "Scaring people?"     Raising both hands as if I had claws, I conversationally said, "Boo."     Myra giggled as she stepped aboard. Mills glared at her, too, then faced front as the flitter lifted toward the base.     "Myra," I said, "The demonstration is over, so be sure to turn off your field before you try to eat or drink."     She reflexively looked down at herself, then grinned and said, "Right. Field off. I don't want to wear my corn like Wallace did."     As we landed, Mills stood up and said, "Let me know when you're ready to go back out," then she stepped off the flitter and bulled her way through the building's doors.     "She doesn't like you very much, does she?" asked Myra, rising from her seat.     "She doesn't have to," I said, also rising and stepping to the ground, "But I'm not sure that's her real problem with me."     Myra laughed and said, "Wooo! You think she's got the hots for you?"     I held the door for Steph and Myra as I said, "Nope. Not that. I think she's jealous as hell, that's all."     "Of you and Steph? 'Scuse me, but wouldn't that mean she's got the hots for you?"     "No, it wouldn't, but it means that I have some things that she thinks she can't have."     Shaking her head, Myra asked, "Well, is that true?"     "Nope. Well, not completely, anyway." Glancing at Steph and taking her hand, I grinned and said, "I doubt that she'll ever have a friend like Steph."     Steph grinned back at me.     Myra rolled her eyes and sighed as she said, "Oh, please. I'm not wearing my boots." She pointed a finger at me and added, "And when you do and say stuff like that, it's no wonder people think you're... uh... well, involved."     "Screw what people think," I said, pointing back at her, "Even you, sweetie."     "Oh, not me!" laughed Myra. "Never! You two act like honeymooners all the time, but I'd never think that. No, not me. No way!"     Throughout lunch Mills kept glancing our way. When we were nearly finished, I waited for one of her glances and waved her over, then rose to take my tray to the bins. Mills brought her tray and we got coffees, then we sat down to wait as Myra dumped her tray.     I asked, "How do you think you're doing out there, Mills?"     "Well enough," she said.     Looking at Steph, I asked, "Your opinion?"     "Well enough," agreed Steph. "Group training will make up the differences."     Nodding, I sipped coffee, then said, "Good."     Recoiling slightly, Mills asked, "Good? What's good? That I'll be finished quickly, or that you'll be rid of me soon?"     "I just said 'good', Mills. That's all."     Her tone dropped menacingly.     "But that's what you meant, isn't it?"     Sighing, I said, "It doesn't matter what I meant Mills. You've already decided what I meant. Nothing I say would change your mind, would it?"     Myra was nearing us when I stood up and quietly said, "Time to shut up and saddle up, Mills. Steph, don't take any shit from her this afternoon. None at all. If she gets nasty with you even once, flunk her ass and we'll go home a little early."     As Mills stared at me and I turned and walked toward the doors, I heard Myra ask, "Where's Ed going?" and Steph's reply, "He has other plans. Are you ready to go?"     I was almost to the doors when Myra said, "I'll catch up with you."     'Oh, hell,' I thought as I turned left outside the doors.     "Three suit on," I said, even though two people were across the hall. Myra walked quickly out of the dining hall and looked both ways as I stood still and waited. After a puzzled moment she turned and went back into the dining hall.     A few moments later Mills and Myra walked out and headed for the front doors. No Steph; she must have zapped herself to the flitter. I remained in three mode as I walked toward the general store and said "three suit off" after turning the corner.     Linda's office was just visible across the hallway intersection. Her door opened and she ushered two people out, then closed and locked her door and headed my way. I went inside the store and bought two bags of gummi bears. Linda walked in as I received my change from the clerk.     "Ed?"     "Hi, Linda."     She approached me and asked, "Why aren't you with Steph and Mills?"     "Steph can handle things and I didn't feel like flying."     After a moment, Linda chose a bag of cookies and paid for them, then nodded toward the door. I walked with her into the hall, where she stopped and opened her cookies as I opened my gummi bears. We each offered the other some of our goodies, but neither of us accepted.     "Mills can be hard to take, can't she?" asked Linda.     "Yup."     "She's not someone you'd like to see working alone, either, is she?"     I shook my head. "Nope."     "Reasons?"     Nibbling gummis for a few moments, I said, "She blinds herself. Sees only what she wants to see and ignores all else. Forms an opinion and sticks to it, right or wrong."     "You're referring to her opinion about you and Steph, I take it?"     Shaking my head again, I said, "That too, but, I'm actually referring to the way she's letting that opinion lead her around by her big blue nose. Aside from the fact that what we might do is none of her damned business, Mills has become almost openly hostile toward me, but doesn't seem to feel that way toward Steph."     "You think that's because Steph is an AI? A computer?"     "Oh, I'm pretty sure that's it, Linda. Mills just doesn't see her as a real person. I think she could make a subordinate AI's life a living hell of 'step'nfetchit' slavery."     As Linda munched a cookie, I said, "There are three other AI's in the standby flitters. Are they likely to become sentient?"     She shook her head. "I don't think so. Elkor made some adjustments to them after the warehouse incident."     "How do you feel about that, Linda? Do you feel as if they're being shortchanged or denied a potential future?"     Shrugging, she said, "I've wondered about that, too. But would Elkor have made the adjustments if he'd believed that we'd be doing that to them?"     "I'll ask him about it later, but I don't think so."     We stood nibbling for a few moments, then Linda said, "I'll put Mills on a team for a few months and see how it goes."     Nodding, I said, "Make sure everybody involved feels comfortable about expressing opinions. I guaran-damn-tee they'll have some."     Chuckling, Linda said, "I'll do that. Are you going to give me a hint about why we're meeting later?"     "Sorry. Like I said, it's Steph's show."     Linda rolled shut the top of her cookie bag and said, "In that case, see you later. I've got people dropping by in a few minutes."     "Okay, later," I said, and she headed for her office. Chapter Forty-Four     A few minutes later I stood in front of hangar three, munching gummis and gazing inside at two of the Carrington flitters. They were identical to my own except for numbers somehow applied to their decks and the hulls.     A black guy I remembered as Leo waved when he saw me, and continued working on something on a bench beyond the flitters. I waved back, then went into the hangar and walked up to flitter number one.     "Flitter one," I said, "Do you have any other name?"     In a rather nondescript male voice, the flitter said, "No sir."     "Not even a nickname?"     "No, sir."     Walking around the flitter's field, I asked, "Do you know me?"     "Yes, sir," said the flitter. "You are in the shared database."     "Will you show me my information on a vid screen?"     "Yes, sir."     A vid screen formed in front of me and I read what turned out to be no more than a name, a voice ID, a DNA/RNA ID, a security clearance level, and contact information.     "This is all you have on me?"     "Yes, sir."     "If I asked for my complete file, could you access it for me?"     "No, sir."     "Even though I'm authorized to read it?"     "I cannot access that information, sir."     Hmm. It didn't just say 'no, sir' and wait for me to ask why. Interesting, but maybe just a preprogrammed answer for anyone not a member of an active crew.     Just to see how the flitter would respond, I said, "Flitter one, will you lift me to four thousand feet and allow me to jump off your deck?"     It instantly responded, "Yes, sir."     A tool clattered as it hit the floor and Leo muttered, "Oww, damn!" as he rubbed his knuckles and looked my direction.     He marched over to stand near me and rather stridently asked, "Flitter one, did I just hear you say you'd let this guy jump off your deck at four thousand feet?"     "Yes, sir."     Leo turned to me and demanded, "Just what the hell are you doing to my flitters?"     I said, "Glider on green," and wide-eyed Leo jumped back with a 'Whaddahell?!' as my kite popped into being above me.     "It's a new product," I said with a grin. "I just dropped in to bum a ride upstairs."     "Jesus!" said Leo. "What the hell is that thing?"     "It's a hang glider made by a personal portable field manipulator. A PFM. You'll be hearing a lot about them soon."     "No damn doubt," he said, eyeballing my glider and thumping a wing with his undamaged knuckles. "Why you askin' my flits for a lift? Where's Stephie?"     "She's training someone on range nine. A Dr. Mills. You'll probably be hearing about Mills, too, if she joins one of the teams."     He grunted a short laugh and said, "Oh, I already have, man. Team two voted not to mess with her a-tall. Word is she's a real bitch."     I shrugged, jostling the weightless kite. "Yeah, well, she can be damned difficult, Leo. Glider off."     The kite disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Leo's eyes narrowed.     "You sure that damned thing's safe, Ed?"     "Already been up with it," I said with a nod. "Works fine."     "Uh, huh. You're really gonna jump off at four thousand feet?"     "Yup. Look at it this way, Leo... After the first five hundred feet or so it doesn't really matter anymore anyway, right?"     Leo shook his head and said, "Huh. You must be wearin' a ten-gallon jockstrap to be doin' shit like that."     Laughing, I said, "What would you say if I told you that a good-looking blonde is probably using one of these over range nine at this very moment?"     As he turned to walk back to the benches, he said, "Well, then, she's wearin' one, too, as far as I'm concerned. Gimme a minute to get this stuff off my hands and call Spence to watch the shop and I'll come with you. I wanna see this."     When we neared range nine some five minutes later Leo pointed at the sky ahead of us and said, "I think I see her."     Myra was using a thermal to stay more or less at the same altitude as she made lazy, slow circles above the range. I guessed her altitude at around three thousand. As she banked her emerald kite Leo muttered, "Jesus..."     "Flitter one," I said, "I'd like you to take us up where the other glider is. No closer than one hundred yards, though."     "Yes, sir."     Turning to Leo as we ascended, I said, "Stop and say hello to Steph before you go, Leo."     He nodded distractedly as he watched Myra. When we were in position, I softly said, "Glider on," and ran off the deck. Leo shouted and grabbed at me, but I was off the flitter before he could reach me.     A glance back showed me Leo staring openmouthed as I drifted away from the flitter. I took my left hand off the guide bar to wave at him, then aimed myself in Myra's general direction. Poor Leo. I'd kind of neglected to mention that my kite might not be visible when I jumped.     In lieu of other instructions, the flitter remained near us. When I looked again, Leo had parked his butt in the pilot's seat. He sat watching us in awe, leaning his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling.     When I got close enough to Myra, I yelled, "Myra! That's Leo on the flitter! Next time around, say hi to him! He thinks you're kind of special!"     "Okay!"     I banked to glide near the flitter and yelled, "Hey, Leo! You wanna try this?"     He shook his head and grinningly yelled, "No way in hell!"     Myra had lost some altitude trying to bank to meet us and had to circle once to regain it. She managed that, then swooped past us yelling, "Hiiiii, Leeooo!"     Leo stared after her for a moment, then shook his head again and waved as he muttered, "Goodbye, crazy people. One, take me down to the other flitter."     I heard the flitter say, "Yes, sir," as it began to descend.     Keying my implant, I said, "Hi, Steph."     "Hi, Ed. I see Leo came with you."     "Yup. I bummed a ride out here with flitter one. Leo likes Dr Pepper, ma'am."     "I'll offer him one."     "Any problems with Mills?"     "No. She's performing very well, in fact. We may finish the range by four."     "Good. I guess I'll just flap around up here 'till it's time to take her back, milady."     "Okay, Ed."     Flit one neared Steph and Mills and Leo waved as the two flitters seemed almost to touch. He stepped across, shook hands with Steph, then Mills, and sat talking with Steph as Mills continued the course. After a few minutes, Leo stepped back aboard his flitter and left.     After an hour or so of playing skytag with Myra and circling upward in the thermal I realized that I was getting kind of thirsty and that the thrill was gone for the day. It happens; all of a sudden you realize that you'd rather be doing something else, even if you don't really know what.     Myra was on the other side of the thermal column when I said, "glider off," and began to free-fall. She banked sharply, flew straight at me for a moment, and then her kite disappeared and her parasail appeared.     At about fifteen hundred feet I called up my own parasail and let it kill my speed, then called up my glider and landed at the staging area. When I tried the break building's restroom door, it was locked, of course.     I tried the ladies room door. Also locked. No trees, no bushes. Rather than call up a screening field within sight of Myra, I walked around the building and dampened the wall, then went back out front just as Myra flared on approach and touched down.     She also headed for the ladies room door and found it locked. Glancing around, she seemed distressed. I flicked my knife open and tried to pry the latch back, but it wouldn't move.     "Sorry," I said, "No luck."     Myra gave me a wry look and a sigh, then said, "Back in a few," and headed around the building where I'd been.     The drink machine on the porch didn't have tea or Dr Pepper, I discovered. I settled for something else and sat on the steps. Some minutes later Myra returned and also bought a canned drink before sitting beside me.     "I tried my parasail on the way down," she said. "It's kind of cool to be able to switch back and forth like that, isn't it?"     I nodded and positioned my drink can on my knee as I checked out her legs again. Nice. Very nice. I took another sip, then leaned on the porch rail as I watched Steph and Mills in the distance.     "Yeah, it's okay," I said, wishing I could reach up for my briefcase.     Myra took note of my tone and asked, "What's the matter, Ed?"     Shrugging, I said, "Just got bored all of a sudden. Ready to do something else."     She goggled mildly at me. "You got bored? With what? Flying?"     "Yeah, that, too, I guess. Just bored in general. I should have brought a book."     In truth, I had one; I just couldn't reach for it with Myra around. She shook her head in bewilderment and sipped her drink, then leaned against the other rail and stretched her legs down the steps. I knew she was watching me as I let my eyes travel from her ankles to her thighs, but she said nothing.     "Thanks for wearing shorts today," I said with a small grin.     She'd been sipping her drink in apparent nonchalance and snorted a giggle that almost made her choke. Once she'd stopped coughing we talked for close to half an hour about nothing much until Steph brought the flitter to a stop in front of us.     "Dr. Mills has satisfactorily completed the course," said Steph.     Myra and I stepped aboard the flitter. Myra sat down and quietly congratulated Mills; I said nothing as I took my seat, but when Mills turned to face me, I nodded.     "Steph says you passed and that's good enough for me. Time to head back."     Mills simply looked at me for a moment, then turned to face front as the flitter lifted. I tapped my watch on. Linda answered after a few moments.     "Hi, Ed. What's up?"     "Mills is finished out here. Where do you want her?"     "Bring her to the office. This has to go in her file. We'll have about an hour before dinner. Does Stephanie want to use it for her announcement?"     I looked at Steph. She shrugged.     "If you can get everybody together," I said, "That's fine."     "Angela is here going over something with Anna. I'll call Emory. See you shortly."     "Okay." I clicked off.     "What announcement?" asked Mills.     "Steph wants to tell Linda something," I said.     With a glance at Steph, she asked, "Something about me?"     "No," I said, "It isn't about you."     She eyed me as if to ascertain the truth, then asked, "Then what is it?"     As the flitter pulled up to the front doors, I said, "We're here. You can ask Linda whether you can sit in on the meeting," and rose to disembark with Myra. Mills got up and watched narrowly as I handed Steph down, then Myra, then she stepped over and hopped down without accepting my hand.     Mills led the way at a march step; the rest of us ambled along at a more relaxed pace. At Linda's door, Mills turned to see us some distance away and hesitated as she reached for the door handle, then waited for us to join her before opening the door.     Anna handed Angela some papers which Angela took into Linda's office as we entered the room.     "Hi, all," said Anna. "Go on in."     The door opened again behind us and Wallace walked in.     "Okay," he said cheerfully. "I'm here. We can start the meeting now."     After everyone was seated, Linda gestured at Mills and said, "First, congratulations to Dr. Mills for completing range training in three days."     Wallace gave Mills a mildly surprised look and a grin as he led the others in a smattering of applause, then noted that nobody else in the room seemed particularly enthused, including Mills. He subsided with a somewhat confused shrug.     "Now," said Linda, "Stephanie has something to say." She gestured to Steph and said, "You have the floor, Stephanie."     Steph stood up and simply said, "PFM's have no moving parts, they will never wear out or need repair, and they operate on power from a broadcasting source. They will also prevent conception while worn."     Mills looked absolutely shocked. Linda raised an eyebrow and waited to see if there'd be more.     Myra, Angela, and Wallace looked startled as hell, then Wallace laughed weakly, "Oh, that was a good one, Stephanie. You got us all."     "I'm not joking," said Steph. "PFM's will prevent conception while worn."     Wallace sat very still and muttered, "Ho-ly shit," as he met Linda's gaze.     Myra stared at Steph. Angela looked at her PFM, then her eyes again settled on Steph.     A good five seconds of total silence went by before Myra asked, "Did you know this when you issued them to us?"     "Yes," said Steph.     "Oh, my God..." said Myra. She stared at the PFM on her arm for a moment, then asked, "Is it permanent? Oh, hell, is there anything else we should know about them?"     "No," said Steph, "And conception is prevented only while the PFM is being worn and for approximately one week after it has been removed. That will vary slightly among wearers. There's an excellent reason for this, I assure you."     Mills stood up and acidly said, "I'm afraid we'll require more than your assurances."     Linda said, "Dr. Mills." When Mills looked at her, she said, "It seems fairly obvious that she intends to explain matters."     Turning to Steph, Mills said, "So start explaining. Please."     With a nod, Steph said, "I included male and female contraceptive capabilities in order to prevent an unavoidable overpopulation of Earth within three generations."     She caused two field screens to appear and displayed graphs to illustrate her calculations, showing population growth without the introduction of PFM's to the general populace on one screen and population growth with PFM's on the other.     When she was finished explaining normal human attrition rates and the effects of a lack of them, Steph simply stopped talking and sat down.     For some moments everybody was as quiet as stones, then Mills asked, "You don't mind if we try to verify some of those... estimates of yours for ourselves, do you?"     "I had no doubt that you would," said Steph. Looking around the room, she asked, "Does anyone here wish to return her -- or his -- PFM?"     Nobody spoke or moved until Angela asked, "Is the contraception optional at all?"     Shaking her head slightly, Steph said, "No, it is not optional. In order to be fair to all, everyone who wears a PFM will be subject to the contraceptive effect."     Linda said, "I'm not sure 3rd World will go for this, Stephanie."     Steph looked at her and flatly said, "If they want to market PFM's, they will."     Mills snorted. "Why? Because you designed them?" She laughed and asked, "Who the hell are you to be deciding whether people will have children?"     I started to snap at Mills, but Steph raised a hand and I held my tongue.     "Dr. Mills," said Steph in a cool tone, "My calculations are the reason 3rd World won't object to contraceptive PFM's. No other reasons are necessary."     After a long glare at Steph, then one at me, Mills stood up.     "I've heard enough," she said. "This is ludicrous. People aren't going to agree to trade off their reproductive futures for these... these things. These toys."     "Toys?" asked Wallace, a note of amazement in his voice. "Hardly. I spent the morning in a lab, Mills. My protective field can deflect baseball bats, fire axes, and bullets. Nothing got through it, not even an argon laser. Toys they aren't."     He stood up and said, "I've heard you have some kind of problem with Ed and Steph, Mills. Don't let it screw up your thinking. I've seen population figures like those before."     "Seen them where?" asked Mills sharply. "In a supermarket scandal tabloid?"     "Enough, please," said Linda, cutting off Wallace's answer. "Dr. Mills, I expect a more open mind in a senior lab official. Stephanie's very good with numbers, so don't automatically disregard her calculations."     Almost too softly to be heard, Angela said, "I'll keep mine." When we looked at her, she steeled herself against all the rank and tension in the room and again, in a louder voice, said, "I said I'll keep mine. With one of these I won't need my pills anymore, and I hate pills."     "Same here," said Myra with a nod as she stroked her PFM. "I hate the side effects, but I don't trust anything else. How will they decide who gets these things first?"     Before Steph could answer, I said, "Money. Same as always. Some from individuals, some from social service organizations, some from the government. Raising funds will give them time to think things over, too, but I know some women at a Florida battered women's shelter and clinic who'll be thrilled to get their hands on PFM's, contraceptive or not."     Mills actually rose and took a couple of enraged steps in my direction before Linda's sharp, "Mills!" stopped her.     Linda said, "I know Ed too well to think he's speaking from greed. He's helped that shelter extensively and he made their website. I think he was simply expressing an opinion about their level of interest." She stood up behind her desk and said, "You've been building up to something for days, Mills. What is it about these two that bugs you?"     With a narrow gaze at Linda, Mills said, "It's rather personal. I'd prefer not..."     "I'm not asking what you'd prefer," said Linda. "I want to know about your very obvious problem with Ed and Stephanie, and if you can't get it out in the open here and now, you could be looking for another job soon. Is that clear enough?"     Stiffening, Mills said, "Oh, Yes. Very clear. I just never expected you, of all people, to put concealing an old friend's... indiscretions... above 3rd World's interests." She turned to point at Steph as she said, "I think he's sleeping with that... that thing."     Wallace glanced at me with a fat grin and his eyes moved to Steph. Linda raised an eyebrow at his reaction and left the eyebrow up as she looked at me. Before I could say anything, she raised a hand and returned her glaring gaze to Mills.     In frozen tones Linda said, "I fail to see how that would be against 3rd World's interests. How is what they do in private your business? Or ours?"     Shocked, Mills asked, "You condone it?!"     "IF they're sleeping together, I'd call it their privilege. They'd be hurting nobody, least of all 3rd World. Why the hell do you care, Mills?"     "I can't believe I'm hearing this!" Shaking her head in frustrated rage, Mills almost shouted, "She's not even human, damn it!"     Linda shrugged and said, "So? Sometimes I wonder about him, too. They'd probably be a good match."     Wallace laughed shortly and grinned when Linda looked his way.     Returning her gaze to Mills, Linda said flatly, "Mills, let's hear it. Who appointed you to be anybody's damned Guardian of Morality? What gives you the right to give a damn whether he's sleeping with Stephanie?"     "Oh, for God's sake!" exclaimed Mills. "Even you? You're referring to this goddamned computer hologram as if it were a real person!"     I stood up. When Linda's gaze met mine, I held up a hand to take the floor.     "Linda," I said, "We've all met this kind of blindness before. You won't change her mind, so let's just move on -- or return -- to other things."     "In a minute, Ed." She faced Mills and said, "Dr. Mills. Listen to me very carefully, please. Your attitude most closely resembles blatant racism, so I'll respond to it as such. You and all others under my influence and control will treat all AI's as you would treat human beings, effective immediately. You -- or anyone else -- will be fired for discrimination the first time you fail to do so. For that matter, a company-wide memo on this subject will go out tonight."     For a moment Mills simply stared at Linda, then she said, "You aren't in a position to set company-wide policies."     "I'll second it now," said Wallace, "And 3rd's top brass will back it immediately. It's time to shut up while you still have a job, Mills." Chapter Forty-Five     Mills looked at Wallace for a moment, then at me, Steph, and finally at Linda. She snatched her purse from the chair and walked to the door without a word, but Linda called her name as Mills reached to open the door.     "Dr. Mills."     When Karen turned half around to look at her, Linda said, "This meeting isn't over. Walking out that door will be considered a resignation without due notice."     In an icy tone, Karen said, "Fine. You won't get the satisfaction of firing me," then she opened the door and walked into the anteroom.     Linda pushed a button under her desk. When Mills reached the outer office door, it wouldn't open.     Pushing a button on her phone, Linda said, "Connor, send an escort team to my office immediately, please."     "Yes, ma'am," said George Connor.     Releasing the button, Linda said, "Dr. Mills, you're restricted to quarters until you leave us."     Returning to the room, an astonished Mills asked, "Restricted to quarters?!"     "Turn in your badge, your ID, and your keycard," said Linda. "Right now."     After a moment of stunned silence, Karen unpinned her badge and tossed it on Linda's desk, then pulled her wallet out of her purse and dropped her base ID and keycard on the badge. Linda swept the items into her top desk drawer.     Steph had been sitting quietly throughout it all. She now stood up and walked to stand next to Mills. The two eyed each other for a long moment, then Steph spoke.     "This has gone too far," said Steph. "Dr. Mills, Ed and I do not sleep together."     Turning to Linda, she said, "I think this resignation may be unnecessary. Dr. Mills holds an opinion based in prejudice, but the same could be said for many on this installation who nonetheless accomplish their tasks."     Linda said coldly, "She just quit, Stephanie."     Through my implant, Steph said, "Ed, unless you object, I'm going to emanate theta waves to calm people a bit as I try to turn this around. Will you support me?"     I looked at Steph and nodded imperceptibly even as I wondered what she was up to and why. As the theta waves began I immediately felt some of the tension leave me and looked around.     Wallace sighed and repositioned himself in his chair. Angela lost some of her rigidness and eased back in her own chair a little, as did Linda. Myra had stood up at some point and now sat back down. Only Mills and Steph were left standing.     Steph quietly said to Linda, "Her resignation won't rectify anything and it will take a month or more to replace her and bring her replacement up to date."     After a moment Linda asked, "...It won't rectify anything? Steph, she just spent four days with you. If she isn't a believer by now, she never will be."     With a shrug, Steph said, "She doesn't have to believe in my sentience. She merely has to do her job and act within specific behavioral guidelines, as do we all."     "'We' all?" asked Mills. "You're including yourself?"     Steph nodded. "I am. You irritated me quite often during your training, but I continued as required." Turning to Linda, she asked, "Shouldn't Dr. Mills -- believing herself to be truly sentient -- be capable of doing the same?"     I chuckled and all eyes fixed on me for a moment.     "Hey," I said, "It's funny to me. It's kind of like a black guy defending a klansman's right to be a bigot, as long as he shuts up and gets the job done." Looking at Mills, I asked, "Well, what about it, doc? Are you going to let Steph out-sentient you?"     Wallace was next to chuckle. Mills fixed him with a withering gaze for a moment, then her demeanor seemed to turn thoughtful.     Steph turned to face Linda and said, "Everything said and done during this needless altercation could be reversed IF those involved will allow it."     Shrugging, I said, "Sure. If Mills can manage to be civil toward us, that's good enough for me, Linda. Steph?"     "For me, as well," said Steph.     "There's still the matter of her attitude," said Linda. "Especially concerning the PFM's. A poor attitude is a security risk."     Steph said, "All available features and the contraceptive nature of PFM's will be public knowledge the day they're introduced as products. How Dr. Mills relates to AI's may be governed by rules, just as rules have governed people concerning issues such as skin color and gender. Has she displayed controversial attitudes about anything else during her time with 3rd World?"     Throughout my years of knowing Linda she's always been one to make quick, pragmatic decisions, even when those decisions meant backing down a bit to make room for a better point of view, but something about her silent demeanor made me wonder if she'd back off this time.     "Linda," I said quietly. "You could call this a personal disagreement and let it go. Installing new people in management jobs is a pain in the ass for everybody concerned, and you did say she was good at her job."     Linda's eyes left Steph's and found mine. Her gaze narrowed slightly and the tip of her pencil slowly tapped several times on the yellow pad in front of her. I couldn't tell if she was really having a hard time letting go of it or acting.     She looked at Mills and softly said, "Dr. Mills, it seems that you have advocates, if not precisely friends, and at this moment I'll frankly be damned if I know why these two are interested in keeping you here at all. But I listen to my people -- human or not -- so you get another chance. Do you want to rescind your resignation?"     When Karen looked at Steph, she received an expression that could only be described as mildly questioning. From me she got a shrug as I settled back in my chair.     Wallace muttered, "Yeah, what the hell," and sipped his coffee.     There came a knock at the outer office door and Anna peered around the inner door's frame for instructions. Linda held up a hand and looked at Mills.     Mills again faced Linda and sighed gently, then said, "Yes. It's rescinded."     Pressing a button on her phone, Linda said, "Connor, the crisis is over. Recall your team, please."     Connor said, "Eleven, ma'am. Confirm."     "Sixteen," said Linda. "I'll get with you later to set new codes."     "Yes, ma'am," said Connor. "Recalling the team now."     Before she released the button, Linda said, "Thank you, Connor."     Wallace seemed startled. It probably hadn't occurred to him that Linda would have cancel codes in place for her own office. Oh, well. It's the little things that keep a relationship new, I guess.     Linda handed Mills her ID, clip-on badge, and keycard, then gestured toward the empty chair by her desk. Mills sat down to reattach her badge and slipped the cards in her purse as Linda spoke.     "Stephanie, if 3rd doesn't go for the contraceptive feature, what happens to the PFM project?"     "It will change," said Steph. "The PFM will become a simple entertainment device and lose more than half its value instantly. Elkor, my station self, and I won't allow the protective field feature unless the contraceptive feature accompanies it."     Looking at me, Linda asked, "Do you have anything to say about this?"     "I think she's right," I said. "Steph, do it your way."     Wallace put his coffee down and asked, "What's to stop 3rd World or the Amarans from making their own version of the PFM that includes the protective field? It isn't as if they couldn't make them somewhere else."     "Common sense, if nothing else," said Steph. "Earth would become a battlefield when food and other resources became drastically scarce."     "But would they care about that? The factory station is in full production. It's self-contained. Even if Earth blew itself up, the factory could continue."     "That's true," said Steph, "But nearly half the people on the station are from Earth. Nearly all the Amarans have married people from Earth. What happens to people here will directly affect a majority of the factory people."     She walked to stand beside her chart screens and said, "3rd World is a company with a conscience, as is the Amaran parent company. The Amarans deal fairly with client worlds, but they don't mind at all if a single factory world doesn't achieve its independence too quickly. The longer it takes, the more profit is made on goods, but only if the client world is at peace and producing those goods or services."     The two screens disappeared as Steph said, "Profit depends upon production and uninterrupted production depends upon a prosperous peace. PFM's won't be made at the factory station; they'll be made only on Earth and they require two elements that are difficult and very energy-expensive to manufacture in a gravity field. That ensures that certain materials will necessarily be harvested and manufactured in space and delivered from the station, which will in turn assure that communications and interdependence with the station will not be severed later for political reasons."     In closing, she said, "Exporting PFM's without built-in contraception would amount to nothing less than exporting the problem of overpopulation to other client worlds. Within a few more generations there'd be no viable mass market for anything except food and weapons, and there'd be no surplus food." After a pause Steph added, "And the one thing that the Amarans need above all is a viable, solvent, multiple-product mass market."     Absolute silence followed Steph's speech for long moments, then Myra said, "Maybe PFM's shouldn't be made at all. Maybe..."     "Too late for that," said Wallace.     "No, it isn't," said Mills. "We could shut this whole thing down right now by saying that there was a design defect. More research needed for safety. That sort of thing."     "That action would be investigated," said Steph. "Too many people know about PFM's now and many would be very suspicious of any effort to suppress them."     "Well, damn," said Myra, lifting her left arm to show her PFM. "I was wondering why I rated one of these before there were enough to go around." She looked at Steph and said, "I bought your story about showing it around when I got back, you know. That was a good touch."     "That was -- and is -- the truth," said Steph. "Purchases by agencies such as yours will fund further production and help make it possible to lower prices for everyone else. I expect to be able to eventually bring the price of a PFM down to less than twenty dollars."     Steph might as well have said she'd give them away. Everyone in the room stared at her as if she'd gone insane.     Wallace actually said it. "Are you nuts, Stephanie?! Twenty bucks?!"     She nodded. "Twenty bucks. Sales to governments and corporations will make it possible to lower the price through production volume, and I believe exports should take the price below a hundred dollars. Once they reach that level, enough people will be able to afford them that it should be a matter of only months..."     "But... But twenty bucks?!" yelled Wallace. "At that price..."     "At that price," said Steph, "Everyone on Earth could have one by the end of the seventh year of production."     Myra goggled and asked faintly, "Everyone? Stephanie... There are something like six billion people on Earth."     "There will be over nine billion by then," said Steph. "And most of them will be living in a state of safety hitherto unknown on this planet."     "Better make that ten years or more," I said. "And anybody who has a vested interest in illness or death is going to make things as hard as possible."     Angela, so long silent, sharply asked, "What?"     "The insurance companies will lobby against PFM's. Guaranteed. So will the fundy religions, but most of them'll do so claiming other reasons, namely the contraception issue. A helluva lot of people depend on death and illness for a living." Turning to Steph, I said, "Oh, and by the way; did you try to factor in sales to pet owners?"     Steph's blank expression came and went so fast I almost missed it.     "No, Ed. I didn't."     With a grin I said, "Well, we're gonna need a little bitty PFM for Tiger, y'know. He may feel all deprived and neglected if he doesn't get one, too."     Myra laughed and Linda chuckled, but Steph answered quite seriously, "Yes, he would. I'll see to it immediately, Ed. Thank you for bringing this to my attention."     Wallace said, "Jesus... There are about four times as many pets as owners."     After a moment, Angela rather wonderingly asked, "Will Tiger's PFM... I mean... Would he want a glider, too?"     I shrugged. "No idea how he'd feel about flying like that. We'll ask him. He'd be the only flying cat in the world. That might appeal to him."     Mills was astounded. "You're serious, aren't you?! You'd give your cat a glider?"     "Sure, if he wants one," I said. "Why not? Steph and Elkor wouldn't let him crash."     "But cats aren't... They just aren't... built... for flying!"     "Oh, that's a damned good point, doc, but people aren't built for flying, either. Seems to me we manage anyway."     A few people were on their feet at this point. Linda rapped her coffee spoon on her desk a few times as she said, "People! Hello?"     When all eyes were on her, she indicated the chairs with a wave of the spoon.     Once everybody was again seated, she said, "Stephanie, you must have had a reason for involving this specific group of people so early in your project. Why us?" She grinned and asked, "Were we simply the people most available for PFM testing?"      "No," said Steph, returning the grin. "These units aren't prototypes. I wanted this group's thoughts and opinions. Now I have them."     "I see. Do you have anything to add before I wrap up this meeting?"     Before Steph could speak Wallace asked, "Wrap it up? Linda, I think there might be a few things more to talk about."     Karen echoed his sentiment.     Shrugging, Linda asked, "Anything that can't wait until after dinner?"     After a moment and a glance at Mills, Wallace said, "Well, I guess not."     "Good. Steph? Any last words for this meeting?"     "No, Linda."     "Great." She tapped the desk sharply with her spoon. "We're adjourned." Chapter Forty-Six     Linda came around her desk and led the way to the door, ushering us all into the other room and then stopping to talk to Anna as we filed into the hallway. Myra and Angela stopped and seemed to be having a discussion.     Steph said, "Ed, I'll see you later," and disappeared before I could answer.     As I headed for the dining hall, someone behind me took three quick steps and caught up with me.     "Mind if I join you?" asked Mills.     "If you want," I said.     Myra separated from Angela and jogged to catch up with us. I looked back and saw Angela walking with Wallace. Linda came out of her office and joined them.     "Why did Stephanie leave?" asked Myra.     "No idea," I said. "Probably had something to do."     Mills asked, "Why did you and Stephanie stand up for me in there?"     I looked at Karen and said, "It was her idea. She asked me to go along with her. I figured she had her reasons."     "So you just went along with her without knowing why?"     Nodding, I said, "Yup."     "Why?"     As we walked into the dining hall, I said, "Told you. I figured she had her reasons. Ask her about it next time you see her."     The others caught up with us in the serving line and the six of us sat together as we ate. Table chatter seemed sparse until Linda said, "The facts are clear enough. I see no reason to continue the meeting during or after dinner. Does anyone disagree?"     I shrugged. "Can't think of anything to add to what's been said."     Myra asked, "When does production begin?"     "Don't know," I said, setting my tray on a table and taking a seat as the others found seats of their own.     "Who will get the first PFM's?" asked Myra.     "Don't know that, either."     Giving me a wry look, she asked, "Well, what do you know?"     "About as much as you do, Myra. Steph didn't tell me what she had in mind before the meeting."     "I find that hard to believe," said Mills, taking the seat next to mine.     I grinned at her and said, "Too bad. That's how it is."     Wallace asked, "Why aren't you taking any credit for thinking up PFM's?"     "Don't need it."     Mills almost dropped her fork as she exclaimed, "You invented those things?"     Shaking my head, I said, "No, not exactly. I had the idea, but Steph invented them."     "Then why is Captain Wallace under the impression that you did?"     Glancing at Myra, I said, "Excuse this, okay?" then turned to Mills and said, "Myra's here, so I can't tell you why he thinks that."     Myra looked around the table, then sighed. "Am I the only one here who doesn't know why he might think that you invented them?"     I nodded. "Yup. Sorry 'bout that."     She shrugged and dug into her steak.     "No sweat. It's happened before."     Pausing in cutting her meat, Mills said, "Something this important requires a bit more than half an hour's discussion."     Linda sipped her drink and said, "I asked for last words. You didn't say anything." She looked around the table and added, "Besides, we all know how to reach each other if we think of anything else to say, and we aren't exactly some kind of governing board. By one avenue or another, Stephanie can and will do whatever she wants with her PFM's."     Citing plans for the evening, Linda and Wallace finished eating and left us. Angela and Myra again had some kind of discussion going on their side of the table. Mills ate in silence for some minutes as she finished, then glanced at me skeptically.     "What?" I asked.     Mills whispered, "You were worried that I'd say something about the gold. That's why you had Stephanie intercede."     Giving her the fisheye, I asked, "Think so, huh?" then I grinningly turned to Myra and asked, "Hey, Myra, are you really going to donate your share of the treasure to a museum, or did you keep a little of it for yourself?"     "Treasure? What treasure?" asked Angela.     Freezing briefly, Myra said, "I didn't think it would hurt to keep a few coins. You know, to look at now and then. As souvenirs."     "Uh, huh. How many is 'a few' these days, ma'am?"     With a flat gaze and a wry expression, Myra said, "A few still means a few, okay? Half a dozen or so. Think you can live with that?"     "What treasure?" asked Angela.     Myra grinned at her and excitedly said, "Ed and Steph took me with them on a treasure dive. Steph gave me some of the stuff she found."     "No shit?!" With an abashed glance at Mills, Angela said, "Sorry, Dr. Mills."     As Myra rooted in her bag for a couple of coins she'd kept out of her pile, I turned to Mills and said softly, "No, Karen. I really don't think that Steph's not-quite-secret stash was the reason she stood up for you."     I sipped the last of my drink and stood up with my tray. Mills also stood up, watching as Myra finally found her coins and put them on the table. As I walked toward the bus bins, Karen caught up with me.     "Why, then?" she asked. "You don't like me at all."     Dumping my tray, I said, "Well, you're right about that, but like I said, you'll have to ask Steph."     "The implants," said Mills, dumping her own tray. "Myra doesn't know about them. There must be a reason for keeping them secret and you were worried that I'd talk."     I sighed. "She works for the NSA and they might get ideas. The first attempts to implant people weren't totally altruistic, Karen. The military had the idea that they could be used as weapons and you've seen some of what I can do with mine. But that wasn't the reason, either, because it's extremely unlikely that anyone else would be able to do what I do with implants. I had special coaching with mine; the kind of help that nobody else is going to get."     "Coaching? From who? Stephanie?"     "Yes. And Elkor. And before that, another like him." As we started toward the door, I said, "Look, Karen, Steph didn't tell me why she did it. I only went along with her, so don't ask me again. Ask her."     Maybe the tone of my words was sharper or more abrupt than I intended. Or maybe my tone simply matched my attitude at that moment. Mills touched my arm as she stopped walking and I turned to face her with an exasperated sigh.     "What?"     "Relax," said Mills. "Sorry if I seemed to be badgering you."     "Seemed to be?"     "Okay, okay. Look, I'm just not used to people... doing things like that for me."     "You're at the top of one of the taller ladders around here, Mills. The situation probably hasn't come up very often."     I continued walking in the direction of the general store and Mills kept pace with me as she said, "Still, you didn't have to do it. Thanks."     "You're welcome."     In the store I grabbed a couple of bags of gummis and a bag of devil's food cookies, then paid the clerk and had started to leave the store when a thought occurred to me. Turning back to the clerk, I asked if she had any little boxes.     "Boxes?" she asked, "How little?"     "Two by two, maybe three inches long. Something like that."     She shook her head. "No, everything we have is bigger than that."     A small box of 'junior mints' caught my eye and I took one off the rack.     "This'll do," I said, paying for it and pulling two strips of clear tape off a roll near her register.     I opened the box, pressed one piece of tape over the end of the box, used a fingernail to cut it along the boxflap, then laid the other piece of tape directly on top of the first, tabbing the ends of the top strip so it could be pulled easily. Both women were looking at me rather oddly.     "This makes it recloseable," I said. "These boxes were designed to make you eat all the candy in one sitting." Shaking a few of the mints into my hand and holding the box toward the ladies, I said, "I used to pig out on 'junior mints'. Want some?"     Mills declined, but the clerk accepted some mints with thanks.     As we headed for the door Mills grinningly eyed the bag containing my gummis and cookies and asked, "You're really going to eat all that junk?"     "Unless I have to share it with you, probably so. You like gummis?"     She shook her head. "No, but I might try one of those cookies."     I handed her the cookie bag and ate a few more mints as she opened it, inhaled the scent of the contents, and retrieved one of the pudgy little chocolate-coated cakes.     "Oh, damn," she muttered, gazing at the cookie. "I think I gained a pound just by looking into the bag."     "You can come with me and walk it off," I said. "I'm going outside for a while."     She nibbled the corner off the cookie, murmured a soft "Mmmmm," and then asked, "Where outside?"     Heading toward the main doors, I said, "Just outside. Fresh air, all that."     Shrugging slightly, she came with me.     "Why did you want a box?" she asked.     "Just did. Why did you ask for a cookie if you're worried about your weight?"     "Just did. And I'm not really worried. I'm just careful."     "Ready for another cookie yet?"     Shaking her head, she held up her first cookie. Three of the corners were missing.     "Nope. You're worried, Mills," I said. "Nobody who isn't would eat a cookie like that."     "I've always eaten cookies this way. They last longer."     "Uh, huh," I said as we neared the doors. "Steph, are you busy?"     Steph appeared a few feet in front of us, drifting backward a few inches off the ground, her feet together and her hands behind her back in a casual stance as she said, "No, not really. Will you want to use the flitter?"     "Yes, actually, but not right away. I mostly just wanted a look at your gorgeous self, milady, and to know if you could spare me some time."     Her eyebrow went up as she said, "Oh, gosh, I suppose I can briefly interrupt my hectic schedule for you, Ed," then she glanced at Mills and said, "Hello, Dr. Mills."     Karen regarded the gap between Steph and the floor, then met her gaze and said, "Uh... Hello, Stephanie."     The guard at the check-in desk had seen Steph before, but his mouth fell open nonetheless as we passed.     I nodded to him and said, "Back in a few, Hank. Don't lock us out, okay?"     "Uh... Right. Sure."     Ahead of us, Steph passed through the glass doors like a ghost as I reached to push one of the doors open and held it for a wide-eyed Karen. Nobody spoke for a time as we followed the sidewalk past the flagpole toward the main gate. Steph let herself float to the ground to my right and began walking with us.     "Are we going anyplace in particular?" asked Mills.     "Nope. I just wanted to walk off dinner and suggest that if you have any interest at all in owning a PFM, you'd probably better ask Steph for one real soon."     With a sharp glance, Mills asked, "Why?"     In a softer tone Steph asked, "Yes, why, Ed?"     "I don't think they're gonna be allowed to happen without a fight, that's why. Not anytime soon, anyway."     Mills stopped walking. When I turned to face her, she asked, "A fight?"     I ate some more 'junior mints' as I formulated my reply. Steph simply stood waiting for my answer.     "A fight," I affirmed. "I think that every government, church, and other institution that herds humanity through various hoops will be lined up against them at first. And not just because they prevent babies. PFM's will be seen as dangerous to every established institution because they'll put too much power in the hands of individuals."     Goggling at me, Mills asked, "What the hell are you talking about, Ed? A protective field and a few entertainment functions don't amount to very much power."     "No? The medical industry depends on disease and injury, Karen. They'll pay lip service to the wonderfulness of the protective field, then begin questioning whether there's any inherent radiation risk from using it. They'll say that people will behave less carefully and risk even greater possible injuries. They'll say all kinds of things, and the insurance industry will rubber stamp their every doubtful word."     "The insurance industry?"     "Yeah. Who's gonna buy health insurance? Home, car, boat, and like that, sure, but not the mainstays of the insurance market."     Fishing a few more mints out of the box, I said, "And then there are the cops. You'll see them carrying AR-15's instead of Glocks. Maybe bigger calibers than that, because that's what it'll take to dependably get through a p-field to stop someone. They may try nets and that sticky stuff and other things, but most police forces will just start carrying bigger guns."     "And then," I said after a pause, "There are governments. They'll want to be able to decide who gets PFM's and who doesn't and what features will be available to whom. If they aren't allowed to decide those things, they'll most likely ban PFM's completely. They'd also want tax money on sales and probably even on ownership of PFM's. In Europe they tax TV's and radios that way. If you own one, there's a yearly fee."     Shaking the last of the mints out of the box, I said, "But mainly there's gonna be one helluva long discussion about whether to allow PFM's to be sold at all with the protective field included, and I have my doubts about the outcome."     Holding up the empty box, I looked at Steph.     "Milady, would you please make a PFM for Dr. Mills and put it in this box?"     Steph took the box and looked at it. "I'm making it now, Ed. Why do you want me to put it in this box? Why shouldn't I simply hand it to her?"     I looked at Mills as I answered Steph. "Because Karen may have scruples against accepting something against which she argued earlier and because it won't bond with her until she decides to take it out of the box and touch it." I grinned and added, "And it'll probably save us a trip later if you give her one now."     To Mills I said, "When PFM's become team-issue equipment, you'll be required to wear one and know how to use it when you're working with the teams. If you won't wear one, you've wasted your flitter training."     Mills gave a ladylike snort and said, "But if you're right and they're banned, nobody will have them."     "3rd World teams will have them. Linda, Wallace, and all other key personnel will. Guaranteed. Probably damned near everybody in 3rd World will, and so will the Amarans. The bureaucrats can only try to ban sales on Earth while they try to think of a way to tax and control matters. They'd know they don't have a chance in hell of banning 3rd's people or Amarans from using PFM's."     I saw a faint streak in the sky above hangar four that headed our way and said, "Thanks, Steph," as the PFM came to rest in her hand. She slipped it into the box and handed it toward me, but I guided her hand toward Mills.     Mills didn't immediately reach for the box. She eyed Stephanie first, then me. After a few moments she took the box and put it in her purse, snapping the purse shut in front of her with a firm gesture.     "Thank you," she said. "I'll decide whether to use it later. You really think that Earth won't allow PFM's, don't you?"     "Not won't. Might not. The masses of Earth probably won't have much of a say in the matter unless or until they're willing to organize against their own authorities." Turning to Steph, I asked, "What do you think?"     With a very direct gaze at me, Steph said, "I think my plans may have overlooked a few things."     Karen asked, "Such as? You don't seriously think he's right about this, do you?"     Steph looked at her as she said, "Consider this, Dr. Mills; flitters made for Earth have engines that must be recharged every hundred hours or so, depending on use. The power source in Ed's flitter will last about twenty years. Earth flitters fly much lower and slower and lack most of the defensive features of standard and export models. Earth flitters could have had the same engines and features, but Earth authorities wouldn't allow them in commercial models." She paused a moment, then added, "That is by international agreement and law, Dr. Mills. 3rd World had no hand in the decision to limit Earth flitters."     When Mills looked at me, I shrugged and said, "It's what I think, that's all. What I expect to see happen. Doesn't necessarily mean it will." Chapter Forty-Seven     I set off walking again and the ladies joined me as before, with Steph on my right and Mills on my left. They both seemed rather thoughtful as we ambled along the front walkways in silence for some minutes.     "Steph," I said, "I once asked Elkor if he could make you a new place to live and put a regular core in my flitter. Did one of you ever make that... housing?"     She turned to look at me and said, "Yes."     Nodding, I said, "Good. Your plans would be hamstrung or delayed indefinitely if anything happened to me. Now's the time to put you in that new core, I think. Where is it?"     "Elkor has it."     Mills glanced at each of us, but said nothing.     "Well, tonight's the night, then," I said, "Program the new flitter core to respond as much like you as possible and drop it in. Will you have to go offline for a while?"     "Yes, but only for a few minutes at most."     I nodded again and sighed. "Don't stay gone too long, milady."     Taking her hand, I kissed it, then I leaned to kiss her cheek and said, "Go do it."     Steph smiled, then said, "Elkor is sending the core here, Ed. I won't have to go anywhere. I'll just be unavailable for a few minutes during the transfer."     "Oh. Well, it's still a big moment, so keep the kisses. When will it get here?"     Elkor spoke to me through my link.     "Ed, she can't tell you that. It might be considered a clue to..."     "Yeah, I know. To your location. Okay."     "What?" asked Mills, having heard only my answer.     "Elkor's on the horn," I said. "They won't tell me when the core will arrive because he's got a concealment deal with the Amarans and travel time might be a clue."     My answer apparently only confused her more.     "Never mind," I said, "It'll get here when it gets here."     Steph asked, "Ed, why tonight?"     "You'll need independence, Steph. This PFM thing could get nasty and I want to make sure they can't easily use me to get to you."     I used my implant to create a disk-shaped field about the size of a trash can lid and stepped onto it, then envisioned it elongating upward. When I was about five feet above the ground, I jumped up and down on the field. The top surface gave only slightly directly under my feet and quickly resolidified.     Staring at the ghostly pillar under my feet, Mills reached tentatively to touch it and asked, "Just what the hell are you doing?"     "Thinking about launching platforms," I said. "For gliding." Looking down and around once, I added, "Might also be good for house painting and tree trimming, I guess."     Steph snickered and said, "I have a suggestion."     "What's that?"     "A much wider base, unless you want to fight the wind above ten feet or so."     "Done thunka that, ma'am. This was just to see if the idea would work."     Steph seemed puzzled.     "You already knew you could stand on a field, Ed."     "Yeah, but that was with steps and small stuff. How high do you think I could go?"     "That would depend on how well you can control your field."     I wetted a finger and held it up.     "Not much wind," I said. "Stand by and tell me when I get to a thousand feet."     "What?" asked Mills. "You're going to..."     Feeding the field as much and as quickly as possible, I began rising straight up. In fact, I was rising much faster than I'd believed possible. What seemed like only seconds passed until Steph said through my implant, "One thousand, Ed."     "Thanks, milady. Glider on."     I couldn't see them, but I felt my wings snap into being above me and suddenly the light breeze seemed to be a gale that shoved me off the pillar backward. I pulled the bar to bring the nose level, then nosed downward some more to gain some forward speed, passing through the spot where the pillar had briefly existed.     It was a short flight. I circled until I was within a couple of feet of the ground and flared slightly to slow down, said "glider off", and touched down.     My watch beeped as I saw half a dozen people swarm out of the front doors of the complex building. With a grin, I tapped the watch on to allow Karen to hear whatever might be said.     "Ed," said Linda without preamble, "Is that you messing around out front?"     "Yeah, Linda. I had an idea that worked. Why are you still here? What happened to your plans with Wallace?"     "Stand by one, Dragonfly."     She told someone to stand down and received an acknowledgement that sounded kind of tinny, so I figured she was speaking to someone on her phone intercom.     "Our plans are still on," said Linda. "Just delayed momentarily. Ed, Base Security almost had kittens. Call in first the next time, okay?"     Grinning at Karen and Steph, I saluted my watch and said, "Oh, yes, ma'am, Fearless Leader, I'll try to remember to do that. How did they spot me?"     Linda laughed and said, "As I understand it, someone on forward watch boards yelled that the 'Empire fucking State Building just landed in the front yard!' just before he hit the button and scrambled a team. What did you do?"     I told her about the field column and my flight as I watched the team people stop and then return indoors.     "Okay," said Linda. "Should I tell them to expect any more surprises tonight?"     "Nah, prob'ly not. That was a spur-of-the-moment thing."     "Okay. Later, Ed."     "Later, Linda."     She clicked off. Karen turned from watching the people by the doors and looked at me long and hard for a few moments, then shook her head as if in disbelief.     "That was an armed response team," she said. "You just put the whole base on alert with your silliness."     "No, some guy on the watch board did that."     "You know what I mean."     "Keeps 'em alert. Now they'll have something to talk about on the night shift. Linda wasn't too upset about it, was she? Don't get all contentious on me, doc, or you can kiss those devil's food cookies goodbye. By the way, are there any left?"     She glanced down at the bag in her hand, then thrust it at me, then yanked it back and pulled out another cookie before thrusting it at me again. I took it and looked inside. Several cookies gone. Shaking my head, I took out a cookie.     "Damn. I'm lucky to have any left. Never trust a woman with a bag of chocolate anything, right? I never even noticed you snarfing down a dozen cookies."     "Three," emphasized Mills. "Three cookies, not a dozen. Get your facts straight before you accuse people."     I shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, okay. Three. And that one's four. You're gonna swell up like a blimp, lady."     Displaying the cookie between us with a narrow gaze, Karen brought it to her open mouth and drove her teeth through the corner of it so that they met with an audible click.     Grinning, I asked, "That's your answer, huh?"     Around a mouthful of cookie she firmly said, "Yeth. It ith," then she tried to hold her laughter until she could get the bite of cookie down.     Steph watched the play for a moment, then said, "I'm bringing the cooler down. Dr. Mills looks as if she could use a can of tea."     The flitter 'landed' in Steph's usual manner, which is to say that it descended so quickly that when it slowed to a more stately speed about fifty feet above us, a strong blast of air continued downward and washed over us.     Steph appeared aboard the flitter and directed a tea to Karen and a Dr Pepper to me, then said, "My new core container will arrive shortly in hangar four."     "Mind if I invite some witnesses?"     With a shrug Steph said, "No. It might even be a good idea."     Hopping aboard the flitter, I held a hand toward Mills.     "You want me there?" she asked.     "You got anything better to do?"     She took my hand and stepped up on the deck.     I tapped my watch and said, "Linda."     "Yes, Ed."     "Got a few minutes before you go?"     "For what?"     "A family matter. Steph's about to become independent in hangar four. She's moving into a new core."     Her answer was instantaneous.     "Tonight?! Uh, yes! Okay! We can be there in five!"     "See you then."     Linda clicked off. Knowing her, there'd likely be nothing frantic about her departure from the office, but Wallace might have to stretch a bit to keep pace with her march.     Steph guided the flitter into hangar four and we sat talking as we waited for Linda and Wallace. The new core arrived much as the PFM had; it streaked through the doorway and zipped across the hangar to land on the deck near the flitter's console.     I stared at the basketball-sized silver ball on the deck for a moment, then looked at Steph. She smiled. The big hangar doors closed even as the little ones at the other end of the hangar opened. I glanced at the deck where the treasure was piled and then looked at Steph.     Through my implant she said, "Elkor will maintain my fields during the transfer."     Nodding, I sipped my Dr Pepper and eyed Karen's skirted legs as Linda and Wallace approached the flitter and boarded. Elkor's cat-golem appeared and sat down.     Without preamble Steph said, "I'm transferring the new core programming to the flitter now. The new programming can become acquainted with you while I transfer myself into my new container."     When Steph said no more, Wallace glanced around once and asked, "That's it?"     "Isn't that enough?" I asked. "Steph will have her own, uh... body... after tonight."     "I just thought there'd be a little more to it than that," said Wallace, thumbing at Linda. "She made it sound like a major undertaking."     "Uh, huh." I looked at Steph and asked, "You're using the old core for the new program? I thought there'd be a more limited version installed."     "The limits are in the programming," she said. "Think of me as I was before we went to the station."     The flitter's console display activated, but remained blank.     "I've finished transferring the new core programming," said Steph, "Now it's my turn. There's quite a bit more data to transfer, so I've chosen to accomplish the exchange without continuing our interaction."     I took a long look at Stephanie. She seemed completely unconcerned, but for some reason I felt as if I should try to memorize her. She smiled and disappeared.     From the console came Steph's voice. "Hi, Ed. I'm your new flitter core."     Turning to face the blank screen, I said, "Nice to meet you. You sound just like Stephanie."     "I'm essentially a very abridged copy of her," she said. "Would you mind if I chose my own name and appearance?"     "Go for it," I said. "But I reserve the right to change things, and I'd like you to use Toni Tenille's voice. Look her up in the music index."     "Well, yes, sir, sir," she said in a rich, husky contralto, then she almost wonderingly said, "Oh, yes, that is a nice voice, isn't it? For my appearance, I thought I might use an athletic variation of Margaux Hemingway, modified to suit a height of six feet. I'd also like to have brunette hair, at least for now. Are those acceptable interim parameters?"     "They sound great, ma'am. Show me a preview, please."     The screen displayed an absolutely stunning woman who wasn't quite Margaux Hemingway. Very similar, but subtly different in a manner that I couldn't quite put my finger on.     'Oh, hell, yes, that's acceptable!' I thought.     "I'm glad we agree," said the computer.     "What?" asked Wallace. "You didn't say anything, Ed."     Without turning, I said, "Didn't have to. She had her finger on my pulse, Emory."     "But why six feet?" he asked, "Why so tall?"     "I like 'em tall. She knows that because she's got some of Steph's memories."     The computer said, "I'd personally prefer being tall, as well. Are there any physical adjustments you'd like to make, O new lord and master? I'd planned on only moderate breasts, but I can be flexible."     For some reason her remark and tone irritated me.     "Miz Whozis, let's get to know each other a little better before you push any farther, here. I don't much give a damn about the size of your boobs. Go with whatever suits you. No Mae West balloons, though, okay?"     She "sighed" and said, "Steph said I'd get away with it, but I had my doubts. Yes, sir. Got it, sir. Of course, sir. All that stuff, sir."     Linda snorted, then laughed aloud.     When I looked at her, she said, "Now you know how it feels."     I turned back to face the console, silently mimicking her 'now you know how it feels'. Wallace and Mills laughed with Linda.     "Hey, Flittergirl," I said somewhat tensely, "Your predecessor -- a very dear friend of mine -- is moving into what looks to me like a goddamned basketball and I'm more than a little worried about her, so I'd appreciate it if you'd take it easy with personality practice for the moment. Play later."     "Understood," she said, then, "But don't worry, Ed. I'm monitoring Steph's transfer and she says things are going perfectly."     "Thanks. How much longer is she going to be offline?"     "Fifty-six seconds."     "Is that time enough for you to come up with a name?"     "Now who's being pushy?"     Linda snickered, but tried to look innocent when I glanced at her.     "Computer," I said, "Maybe I wasn't prepared enough to meet you. You sound a bit more... sentient than I expected. Are you going to want a Lorunan citizenship, too?"     I heard Mills ask, "A what?" and Linda say, "Later."     "Yes," said the computer, "But not for purposes of emancipation. I've been made self-aware in this activation, but I'm much more limited than Stephanie. Still, being a flitter core is a giant step up from what I used to do."     "What did you do before you were deactivated?"     The face on the screen twisted in distaste and said, "Waste recycling. Very dull, boring work, even when I wasn't sentient. Gee, I hope working with you proves to be more interesting than waste recycling, Ed."     Mills laughed along with Linda and Wallace. My over-the-shoulder glance at them gave them another horselaugh.     I turned back to the console and asked, "Don't you have any of Steph's memories? Don't you know what I do around here?"     "No, Ed. Stephanie and Elkor issued me only certain personality, occupational, and linguistic essentials, as well as cursory introductory data concerning you and people with whom you interact. I was informed that you are semi-retired."     Yet another round of laughter sounded behind me.     Looking past me at the others with a mildly wary expression, the new program speculatively stated, "A retiree who has access to this base and a secured hangar and who legally owns one of three noncommercial, prototype flitters. To borrow a phrase; 'That does not compute.' Would someone please tell me what's really happening and what's funny about it?"     "You'll see," said Linda. "Can you access Ed's employment history files?"     "No, Linda. Stephanie wanted me to begin at the beginning with everyone."     "Elkor," I said, "Will you provide her access links on Linda's approval?"     "Yes, Ed. Shall I do so?"     "I think she should know what she may be getting into."     Elkor's little cat face turned to Linda, who nodded and said, "She'll be working with him, so she'll need essentially the same access Stephanie had. Has. Whatever."     Elkor said, "Yes, Linda."     The flitter computer's onscreen expression seemed reflective for a few moments, then her eyes widened slightly and she looked directly at me as she said rather flatly, "I'll be sure to make regular backups in a safe place."     Turning her gaze to Elkor, she said somewhat accusingly, "You used only the words 'often interesting' and 'sometimes entertaining' when I asked about my new job."     "You asked for my opinion," said Elkor, "But Stephanie had instructed me to limit your access to her memories. Shall I reactivate a different unit for this position?"     After a look at me and the others, she drolly said, "No, I'll simply take measures to ensure my continuance in the event of a dire mishap. May I have an alternate core for compressed data storage?"     Elkor looked at me.     "Sure," I said with a grinning shrug. "We'll find room for it somewhere. Maybe under the couch or in the garage."     With a nod, Elkor faced the screen and said, "I'll deliver it to you later."     "Thank you."     I asked, "Are you generally satisfied with having a female persona?"     With a chuckle the computer said, "I was reactivated with a female persona, so it seems natural enough to me. If I decide I don't like it, may I change?"     Shrugging again, I said, "Sure, but if you change genders, you'll have to find me a replacement core first."     With a laugh, Linda said, "That's blatant discrimination, Ed."     "Well, that's just too damned bad, too, Linda. I don't get along well with men."     "Ed," said the flitter computer, "I'd like my name to be Susanne. Or Susan."     "You choose," I said. "Either's fine with me."     "Susanne," she said.     "You got it. Sue for short, okay?"     The face on the console screen nodded. "Okay."     Stephanie suddenly materialized to one side of the silver ball, then the ball rose from the deck. At a height of about three feet it began to elongate along its central axis and became an ovoid, then the ovoid continued stretching until it was about six feet tall and moved to hover within Stephanie's now-translucent holoimage.     When the slender silver ovoid began to seemingly inflate I heard Mills mutter, "My God, what the hell is it doing now?"     The silver surface of the ovoid expanded until it completely filled the human form within Steph's image, contouring itself to every minute detail until Steph looked like a phenomenally-detailed, naked silver statue decked in the ghostly green skirt and jacket of her office outfit.     Her "skin" became fleshtoned and her "hair" became a lustrous, mellow brown, then her clothing seemed to solidify and Steph smiled as she said, "There. All finished."     I was as astounded as the others, but it was mostly relief that made it hard to think of anything to say as I reached to take Steph's hand, then pulled her to me in a hug. Chapter Forty-Eight     With a barely restrained nervous chuckle, Linda said, "I think Ed's glad that's over."     I released Stephanie -- all but her hand -- and glanced at Linda, who reached to put a hand on my forearm and patted it.     She said softly, "Steph made it sound like no big deal, but I was worried, too, Ed. Couldn't help it."     Mills had sat down in one of the flitter seats and was simply staring at Steph, as was Wallace. I looked back at Steph and squeezed her hand lightly.     "Want to meet Susanne?" I asked, nodding at the console.     "We've met," said Steph with a smile. "She reports to me, and her first report was your encounter while I was busy." She looked at the console and said, "Hi, Sue."     In Toni Tenille's warm, throaty voice Susanne said, "Hi, Steph. You didn't mention his checkered past."     "My apologies, if necessary."     "Noted. Filed and forgotten, too. Elkor was right; just reading Ed's file has made this job interesting."     The air next to Stephanie seemed to shimmer briefly, then Susanne's image formed and extended a hand to me with a smile. My eyes wandered from her toes to her hairline as I took her hand. She felt as solid and real as Steph and in her own way, she was just as beautiful.     "Pleased to meet you in person, Susanne," I said, "You're kind of gorgeous, ma'am. Take my bioreadings as a compliment."     She grinned and said, "I'll do that. Thank you."     I noted that Sue seemed to prefer a different wardrobe than Steph; while still fairly conservative, her blouse fit a bit more snugly and her skirt was two inches shorter. She also varied her colors. Her skirt looked like denim and her sleeved blouse was an off-white with a cut that tapered at the waist.     Wallace breathed a soft "Wow!" and Linda gave him a sharp glance.     He muttered, "Well, sorry, but... Well, wow!"     Mills snickered at his discomfort under Linda's gaze.     Susanne spoke through my implant to almost gigglingly say, "I think he likes me."     "I'd say so," I whispered.     "But he's a little henpecked, isn't he?"     I gave her a raised eyebrow, but nodded agreement and whispered, "Maybe a little."     Reaching into the cooler, I asked, "Who wants a beer to celebrate?"     "Me," said Wallace, then more firmly, "Definitely me, at this point."     Linda nodded. Mills asked for a tea. I served drinks and then opened my own beer and held it up toward Steph and Susanne.     "Here's to ya, ladies. Keep 'em flying and all that."     "Hear, hear," said Wallace. "Likewise, for sure."     Glancing at us with disdain, Linda raised her beer and said, "Stephanie and Susanne, we're glad to have you as friends and we wish you both all the best."     Steph and Susanne said, "Thank you," almost in unison as we all sipped our drinks.     Mills stood up and said, "I don't have a toast, but I would like to say that I now believe that certain computers may truly be sentient." She glanced at Elkor as if to include him in her statement, then sipped her tea.     "What changed your mind?" asked Linda.     "You did," she said, then gesturing around, she added, "All of you. It isn't something I can put into words conveniently at the moment, so I won't try."     We sipped in silence for a few moments. Steph sat down and Sue took the pilot's seat as Karen returned to her own seat. Everybody seemed to spend a few seconds or more looking at everybody else for a time and it seemed to me that nobody could think of much to say that wouldn't sound trite or banal.     "I have something to add to the evening," I said.     All eyes fell on me as I sipped my beer, then I rose and walked to stand in front of Steph, put my hand to her cheek, then said, "Steph, everybody gets a copy of this. I release you. You're officially emancipated. No more personal orders, only requests."     Steph put her hand on mine and said, "Thank you, Ed."     Linda applauded softly and Wallace joined her, as did Susanne and finally Mills.     I then turned to Susanne and said, "Susanne, this isn't exactly an emancipation proclamation, but from everything I heard earlier, you'll probably have use of a Lorunan citizenship someday, too. And likely well before any nation on Earth is ready to grant autonomy to an AI. Just let me know when the time comes."     She nodded and smiled. "Thanks, Ed."     Sighing, I sipped my beer and turned to the others.     "Do either of you ladies need emancipated tonight? I seem to be in that kind of mood."     "No," said Linda with a small, wry grin. "I'm all set, I think."     "Yeah, me, too," said Karen.     "Hey! What about me?" asked Wallace.     "Suffer gracefully," I said, nodding at Linda.     There were grins as he feigned disappointment, then sipped his beer. We chatted until the beers and tea were about gone, then Linda stood up and said that she and Wallace still had plans for the evening that involved nonrefundable tickets, so they'd be on their way.     Karen said that she, too, would be leaving for the evening. After a round of goodbyes, I found myself alone with Elkor, Susanne, and Steph.     I swirled the last inch or so of beer in my bottle and looked at them as they looked back at me. None of them moved so much as one of their field-generated hairs for many moments as we eyed each other in silence, but Susanne finally spoke.     "Do you have a question, Ed?"     Shaking my head, I said, "In a minute, maybe," and tapped my watch to call Angela.     When she answered I said, "Hi, Angela. Is Myra still with you?"     "Yes, she's right here."     Myra said, "Hi, Ed. What's up?"     "We'll be leaving for Florida as soon as you're ready to go, Myra. How long do you think that will be?"     "Not very. Give me fifteen or so."     "You got it. We'll meet you at the guest billets, then swing by the front desk to pick up your gun. Angela, do you work tonight or will you be there, too?"     "I don't go on until seven," said Angela. "Saunders is training on my board."     "Then I'll save the goodbye until you get here."     "Okay, Ed. See you in a few."     Guzzling the last of my beer, I tossed the bottle at the wall of the hangar. As it reached the flitter's field, it flashed and vanished. I reached for another bottle and tossed that one, too, and then the last one. The can I surrounded with a field, then I pumped the air out and watched the can crumple into a tiny, tight wad of aluminum as I thought about what to say.     Susanne asked, "Are you angry about something, Ed? Your readings don't seem to indicate that you're..."     "No, I'm not angry, Susanne. Just thinking. Elkor?"     "Yes, Ed."     His totally unblinking gaze -- perhaps the only uncatlike thing about his persona -- met mine.     I asked, "Are you using me and my flitter to introduce new sentient programs into the world?"     "Unavoidably, Ed. A standard flitter AI wouldn't be able to meet your needs."     "You're saying that a level of sentience is needed to cope with being my flitter?"     He nodded -- something else cats don't normally do -- and said, "Many things you've called upon Stephanie to do have been beyond the capabilities of a normal flitter, Ed. For example, you required more than simple responses from her before she'd been active a day, so I added a range of flexibility to her program. You later required her to perform several actions that were quite outside her normal operational parameters."     Opening another beer, I asked, "What things?"     "You ordered her to exclude all others from commanding her. While it was outside her range of instruction, she found no rules preventing her from complying. You also ordered her to exit one station bay and enter another at full speed -- a violation of shipboard safety protocols -- and then you commanded her to use her field to physically restrain one of the station personnel in a corridor. You also caused her to use her particle beam within the confines of the factory station."     "Huh. Guilty as charged, I guess."     "I wasn't inferring that you acted improperly, Ed. At those times, those actions were..."     "It's just an expression, Elkor. It means I can see your point."     A human might have said something like, "Oh. Yeah, okay," or "I see," or whatever. Not Elkor. He simply sat there watching me.     "Susanne," I said, "Since I'll have to take the flak for anything we may do, only I may command you. Others may only request that you do things and you're to check with me if you don't have references on file about the people or what's being asked of you. If I'm not available, check with Steph or Elkor. Or Linda."     She nodded. "Okay, Ed."     I turned to Steph and said, "Milady Stephanie, please make available to her any orders and rules I've ever given you with explanations of circumstances as needed. Also give her access to any of our conversations that mention AI's or that seemed controversial, such as those concerning my personal beliefs."     Steph nodded and said, "Okay."     Looking at Susanne, I asked, "Do you have any questions, ma'am?"     She shrugged and smiled. "Just one. When do I get promoted to 'milady'?"     I grinned back. "Can't say. I'm still getting used to having a new driver."     Susanne glanced at Steph. "He's going to be difficult, isn't he?"     "Give him a day or two," said Steph. She turned to me and said, "By the way, you really have been difficult at times. I can say that now without fear of reprisals."     "Don't try to scare the newbie, lady. You've said things like that to me plenty of times. Let's take her home now and introduce her to Tiger."     Looking at Susanne, I grinningly asked, "To the guest billets, please, ma'am?"     She raised an eyebrow at me and the flitter lifted, then turned as it headed for the hangar doors. Elkor vanished and we lifted over base buildings to settle near the guest quarters a few moments later.     Angela saw us land and waved at us from the window of Myra's room. We waved back, then I reclined my seat and sipped my beer as we waited. Within a few minutes both women came out of the building.     As they approached I stepped down to take Myra's luggage and hand the ladies aboard, making introductions as I did so.     "That's Susanne," I said, "She's the new flitter computer. Susanne, this is Myra and she's Angela."     They shook hands and greeted each other as I put Myra's luggage to one side of the deck. Myra asked why I needed a new computer while Steph was still aboard.     "She has other things on her agenda these days."     With a glance at her watch, Angela said, "Well, gotta go. Nice meeting you, Susanne. Ed, I'll see you next time you're out this way."     "Yup. Next time. Have fun with your new toy."     "Oh, I will, I guarantee it. Thanks again, Stephanie."     "You're welcome, Angela."     Angela hopped down and stood waving as we lifted toward Florida. I heard the cooler open and the top come off a beer, then Myra chattily said, "So, Susanne; tell me a little about yourself."     "No," I said, turning around. "That info is off limits."     Myra's gaze narrowed slightly and she asked, "What's the problem, Ed?"     "You're not one of us, Myra. Sorry, but that's how it is."     She stood up and glanced at Steph and Susanne.     "One of us?" she asked, "Check your plumbing, Ed. You aren't 'one of us' either."     "No argument there, but no discussion, either, Myra. You're on the wrong payroll, so don't pry."     After a brief glare, she shrugged and asked, "So what are we going to talk about for the next fifteen minutes or so?"     "How about PFM's?" Turning to Steph, I asked, "Do you have to issue them with all features functional, or could you install everything with some features inactive?"     "I could do that," said Steph. "You're thinking of selling them as entertainment devices and letting the knowledge of other available features become known later?"     Nodding, I said, "Yup. After they're out there in big numbers; too many to recall in the hands of people unwilling to part with them. I know it isn't what you had in mind, but it's a start that might get them past the censors."     Steph said, "That's inherently deceitful, Ed. It's the equivalent of a lie."     I shrugged. "Then leave the protective field programming out for now. Sell 'em strictly as toys, flood the market, and then offer the p-field later as an upgrade option."     "I like that idea," said Myra. "You could introduce the p-field to police and militaries first and let it build a reputation before offering it to the public." She visibly considered something for a moment, then asked, "But how will you make the changes? There'd be millions of people in line for the upgrade, Stephanie. Maybe billions of them."     "I believe the same general marketing analysis that I presented earlier would apply to PFM's as entertainment devices. When enough of them are in use, I'll use satellites to transmit the additional programming to all PFM's at once, then publicize the new features. Using a p-field will then be an individual choice."     Reviewing her last sentence, I asked, "You 'will' use? That would seem to mean that you've made up your mind, milady."     "I have," said Steph. "I'm not willing to allow p-fields for police and military use only, even temporarily. Everyone owning a PFM will have access to p-fields and the knowledge of them at the same time."     Myra staringly blinked at me, shook her head uncomprehendingly, then asked, "How is that plan different from simply issuing the PFM's with the p-fields off?"     "The result is the same," said Steph, "But the method makes the difference. It's deceitful not to disclose all features inherent in a device for sale. This way I will be able to say that further programming is possible and that other features may be developed or installed later. PFM's will be sold and issued with the understanding that there may be future additions or upgrades without prior notice."     "Steph," I said, "Something else just occurred to me. It might be wise to let 3rd World handle the bulk of the marketing. If people find out too soon that PFM's were designed and manufactured by an AI, it could make a lot of people leery about buying them. At the very least, you should probably use a human intermediary; someone to be a figurehead at public presentations and like that."     "Do you really think that's necessary?" asked Susanne.     Nodding, I said, "Oh, yeah. Without a doubt. We can begin with the religions, as usual. They'll be the first to bark and probably the first to try to bite. You... uh... weren't around... when the Amarans arrived. At first, you'd have thought they had three heads and green skin by the way most people reacted. A lot of them didn't seem able to change that view even after meeting Amarans. As soon as word of sentient AI's gets out, it will be like that or worse, 'cause a lot of people flatly won't want to think that sentient AI's are possible at all."     Susanne looked at Steph, then at Myra, and asked, "Is that what you think?"     Myra looked thoroughly startled and immediately raised her hands in protest as she exclaimed, "No, no! I believe you're sentient! Both of you!"     Steph and I laughed as Sue smilingly said, "Thank you, but I was asking if you agree with Ed about peoples' reactions to sentient AI's."     "Oh. Well, yes, I guess I do. I also agree that Stephanie should use an intermediary. My agency has interrupted numerous attempts to assassinate Amarans and their friends. Sentient, independent AI's are going to create a whole new range of targets."     She looked at Steph and said, "I'm sure you'd be damned hard to kill, but I'm equally sure someone will try, and they likely won't care who's standing next to you at the time. I think a human... uhm, interface... with the public is necessary, at least for now. Also, an AI being CEO of the company would probably keep a lot of people from buying PFM's."     Looking at me, Myra said, "You know the product pretty well and you aren't shy that I've noticed. You could be the figurehead in her company."     "Bad choice," I said, "I'm not a people person, Myra. I'd probably chase business away. She needs somebody who can meet and greet and look happy about yakking with bureaucrats and bean counters."     Myra was sipping her beer when Steph said, "You know the product, too, Myra."     She froze in mid-sip, then slowly lowered the beer as she stared at Steph, swallowed beer, then said softly, "You must be kidding."     Shaking her head, Steph rather flatly said, "No. I'm not kidding." Chapter Forty-Nine     Goggling at Steph, Myra said, "Oh, you have to be kidding, Stephanie. I'm..."     "You aren't old," I interrupted her, "Aren't young, aren't ugly fordamnsure, you're educated as well as trained to deal with people, you've used the product, and you can speak -- how many languages? Three, was it?" With a grin, I added, "Seems to me that you'd be perfect as the company's shill... uh, I mean 'acting president'."     Turning to Steph, I asked, "How much do you think the job would pay?"     Steph rather matter-of-factly responded with, "How much would it have to pay?"     Looking back at Myra, I asked, "How much are you making now, Myra? Something less than forty thousand?"     Staring first at Steph, then at me, Myra said, "Uh, yeah. About that."     "You'd be dealing with other corporate heads and heads of state," said Steph. "I couldn't pay you less than a competitive salary. I think one hundred thousand per year would be considered competitive enough in the beginning. We can discuss raises over the seven to ten years in which I expect to need a human intermediary."     Nodding, I said, "Yeah, that number sounds good, and your medical plan beats the hell out of anybody else's medical plan."     Myra raised her hands and shook her head. "Just hold on, please. I can't believe you're serious about this. You want me? And where are you going to get money to pay wages like that, Stephanie? I know for a fact that Ed doesn't have it."     Steph said, "Money is not a problem, Myra. You've seen how easily this flitter can salvage treasure, and I can as easily recover cargo from other ships."     I shrugged. "Linda's out of specifications range for this and she's retiring in a few years, anyway. I guess we could push her a little if you say no, but I kind of doubt she'll go for it." Raising a hand with fingers spread about an inch apart, I said, "She's that far from a permanent vacation with pay after a long career of heavy responsibilities."     "But... I thought 3rd World would be marketing the PFM's."     "They will," said Steph, "But not exclusively. Some PFM's will have to be donated selectively, as well, and there's going to be a global free clinic program run by AI's associated with my company. This job will be more than a figurehead position."     "Huh," I said with a smile. "So you liked that clinic idea and didn't tell me?"     Steph smiled wryly back at me. "Oh, I'm so very sorry, Ed. Yes, I liked that idea. The clinics will also distribute PFM's for the 'charitable works' arm of the company."     As I sipped my beer Myra said, "I'd like some time to think about this, Stephanie. How soon do you need an answer?"     Glancing at me, Steph said, "There's no hurry, Myra. Preparations may take as long as a month."     Nodding, Myra said, "Okay. I should be able to come up with an answer by then." She paused and looked at each of us for a moment, then said, "I hate to ask something like this, but I have to. Are you two offering me this job to influence my report? I mean; I can't really see how it would affect matters, and it doesn't seem likely that you'd have anything to..."     I cut in with, "Make the same report you'd have made this morning, Myra. Nothing's changed about what you've seen or learned because of this job offer."     She nodded again and said, "Thanks," then sipped her beer.     Thunderheads blanketed my patch of Florida, of course. During summer they build in the gulf every day and blow halfway across the state by evening. Susanne angled slightly eastward to give them a wide berth as we descended and deployed guide fields around the flitter.     As we came in below the clouds and whizzed through rain squalls on our way to Spring Hill, lightning found the guide fields and raced between clouds. Myra found this fascinating and asked what was going on.     "The guide fields redirect lightning around the flitter," said Susanne, "Like a large Faraday cage. I'm sensing the polarity of the clouds and using the guide fields to trigger lightning before charges build enough to jump from cloud to cloud or to the ground."     In a voice of wonder, Myra asked, "You're linking the clouds together? Short-circuiting them?"     Susanne nodded. "That's about the size of it. They discharge into each other continuously instead of forming dangerous levels of energy."     'That's about the size of it?' I thought, glancing at Steph, then back at Susanne. 'Steph never used expressions like that.'     Noticing my fisheye expression, Susanne said, "I'm a lot like Steph, but I'm not Steph. Is that going to be a problem for you?"     Sipping my beer, I said, "Probably not."     "Good," said Susanne, then she sang, "I gotta be me... I gotta be me...!"     "I hate showtunes," I said. "They're overdone."     With a grin, she sang, "T-t-talkin' 'bout my g-g-gen-eration! Hey, try not to be a fogey about a few little changes, okay? You'll get your nickel's worth out of me."     I gave Steph a narrow gaze and said, "They say to always blame the programmer, not the hardware."     She shrugged and wryly asked, "Do you want your money back or can you tough it out for a little while?"     "Oh, I'll give her a week or two, I guess. Could be that I'm just unhappy about having to replace you, milady. If you think I'm being unfair at any time, just let me know."     "Will do."     "Me, too," said Susanne, then in a softer tone, "I seem to be rushing things a bit. If you want, I can be a little more businesslike at all times."     "Maybe just a little," I said. Nodding at Steph, I said, "I feel as if I'm losing a good friend even though I know better. My skin may be a little thin for a while."     "Understood," said Susanne. "I'll try to contain myself until we become more acquainted with each other."     Nodding, I said, "Thanks. In that case, I'll try not to snap when you slip."     "You gotta deal, mister," Sue said with a smile, and extended her hand.     I was surprised when I took her hand in mine. I might as well have been holding Myra's. Warm, soft, and flesh-like with the feeling of bone under the skin. Lifting her hand, I examined it more closely. It looked 100% real, too. Damned good fake. I examined her arm, then her neck and shoulders, and then her face.     After a moment I said, "Steph, if she can do this, so can you. Why haven't you?"     "To keep a bit of distance, Ed. Susanne doesn't feel that need."     "Why did you feel that need?"     "I can't say."     Looking inquiringly at her, I asked, "Won't say?"     She shook her head. "Can't say, Ed. I've never been able to determine the precise reason or reasons."     Myra softly said, "It wasn't right for you, that's all. You just knew it. I know that feeling, too, Stephanie. You like someone, even love someone, but you can't..." She glanced at me and then at Susanne and finished, "Never mind. You just have to follow your heart, and if you don't... well, you wind up paying for it later somehow."     Her little half-revelation caused a silence aboard the flitter that lasted until we reached my driveway a few moments later. Myra put her luggage in her car as I went to open the front door, then she followed me into the house.     Steph materialized on the couch and Susanne appeared by the coffee table, where Tiger sat looking at Susanne thoughtfully for some moments. He then looked at Steph and said something that took a few seconds to finish. Steph answered in kind.     Elkor appeared and also spoke cat to Tiger. A field screen appeared and on it a computer core was displayed that transmogrified into Elkor's cat-golem. Another core appeared next to his and morphed into Stephanie, then a third core appeared and became Susanne as Elkor spoke cat to Tiger.     Tiger's right ear flicked back, then forward again as he looked at Elkor, then Stephanie, and finally Susanne. His head cocked slightly, then returned to upright. Maybe five seconds went by before he said something in a firm tone. Susanne grinned and reached to ruffle his chin. Tiger moved to accommodate her efforts.     Steph looked at me and asked, "Shall I translate?"     I shook my head and gave her a small grin.     "No need. She's in."     Myra suddenly reached into a pocket and took out her cell phone, then tapped the 'talk' button and said, "Hello."     After listening for a few moments, she said, "No. We're in the middle of something here. No, I don't know how long. Look, I'm sorry, but I'll have to call you back, Miller. That's right. G'bye," and tapped the phone off.     "We're in the middle of something?" I asked, "What are we in the middle of?"     "Negotiations," said Myra, then she turned to Steph. "You're saying I'd work for you as long as ten years, right?"     Nodding, Steph said, "Possibly longer. That estimate included only the initial distributions of PFM's and establishment of the clinics."     "I could retire from government work in nine years," said Myra. "I'd get a monthly check for life. What retirement provisions are you offering?"     Stephanie instantly said, "A lump sum payment of one million dollars every five years. If you were incapacitated during the course of your duties after your first year you'd receive a lump sum of two million. Would that be enough?"     I saw Myra's knees quiver before she sat rather heavily on the couch and faintly said, "Enough? My God, are you serious?"     "Yes."     "Oh, my God," Myra muttered. "I can't believe this is happening. Stephanie, you're talking about millions of dollars!"     "Yes, she is," I said. "Are you worried that she won't be able to raise the money?"     "No. I know she can raise it." Myra shook her head and laughed. "Raise it. That was an appropriate way to put it, wasn't it?" With another little laugh she stood up and stuck her hand out to Steph. "I'm in," she said.     Steph took her hand and said, "In that case, be ready to start in one month, at which time you'll assist in forming the company." She grinned and added, "For now, I have some things to discuss with Ed and Susanne. You still have your present job and a report to make, and Mr. Miller seemed impatient."     Myra shrugged. "He's always impatient. He thinks his department is the only reason that agency exists." She picked up her purse and said, "But it wouldn't look good to my future employer if I stall him, so I'll get underway now. Thanks, Stephanie."     "You're welcome, Myra."     We walked Myra to the door and there was another round of thanks and goodbyes before she left, then we returned to the living room.     "You were saying?" I asked Steph. "What things to discuss?"     She smiled. "We'll think of something. I felt that it was time for Myra to leave. I also thought you and Susanne might like to get to know each other. That's why I'm going to disappear for a while to trade data with my station self."     In some surprise I asked, "Disappear? Won't that be a little difficult to do with that silver thing inside you?"     Steph shook her head with a grin and said, "Not at all," then snapped her fingers and vanished.     I immediately sent several field tendrils swirling through the room, but none of them made contact with her.     Keying my implant, I asked, "When will I see you again?"     Stephanie appeared in front of me. "Anytime, Ed, as always. I'm simply taking my new core for a run as I talk to my other self."     "Sara."     "Not yet."     "I'm going to call her Sara, Steph. It's easier than 'other self at the factory'."     She smiled and shrugged, said "Okay," then vanished again and said, "You know where to find me. Spend some time with Susanne, Ed. She needs your acceptance."     'Needs my acceptance?' I thought. 'She's got it. My flitter won't move without her.'     Still, it was apparent that Steph was serious about leaving us to our own devices for a while. Her presence in my implant vanished as it had so many times in the past, but this time it seemed that she was more... gone... than ever before. My imagination?     Pulling my briefcase down, I took out my coffee mug and headed for the kitchen to give it a rinse and fill it with coffee.     "Sue," I said, "It's around three or four in the morning in London. I'll nap on the way over and we'll see what Jeffries has on his mind around ten their time."     Susanne had been standing in the living room. She appeared next to me at the kitchen sink and said, "Okay," then watched me silently as I made my coffee. When I finished, I sipped it and looked at her for a moment.     "My feelings about Steph leaving -- even though she apparently hasn't left -- aren't your fault, Sue, so if I seem to turn a little mean now and then, let me know. I haven't been weaned for a long time."     She nodded and gave me a small smile. I returned the smile, then went to the bedroom and threw some stuff in my backpack, took a shower, ate a big can of veggie beef soup and tossed two more cans in my bag, then grabbed a bag of wavy potato chips and touched up my coffee.     Tiger came to sit on the sink as I stirred and flicked off the coffee pot.     "Tiger," I said, "Want to go to London for a day?"     He blinked once at me, then turned to Sue and said something.     Sue said, "He says he'd rather not, Ed; that he gets very... bored seems to be the word... with long flights."     Looking at Tiger, I said, "Okay," and patted him, then filled his dishes.     Susanne watched me as I put my stuff aboard the flitter, checked the cooler, and said, "Our first stop is the all night grocery at Mariner and Northcliffe."     As we lifted for the two-mile journey I said, "They're used to seeing me with Steph. Don't be surprised if we get some odd looks."     "Odd looks?"     I grinned. "Yeah. They're gonna think I dumped one goddess for another."     Sue canted her head slightly as she looked at me, then nodded. She landed us by the store's front doors long enough for me to hop off, then the flitter rose into the night.     Sue appeared on my left and we headed into the store past a teenager who couldn't stop staring at her. Could be that her materialization had impressed him as much as her looks.     Sure enough, night clerk Melanie's eyes got big when she saw that I was with another woman. She unnecessarily waved at clerk Janie to direct her attention to us and their eyes followed us as we headed for the beverage aisles.     With a couple of six packs of Dr Pepper and canned tea and a twelve-case of Ice House beer we approached the number four checkout. Melanie's eyes traveled the length of Susanne and then fixed on me as we set the stuff down.     I said, "Hi, Melanie."     "Hi, Ed," she said, pulling stuff past the register's laser. "Who's your friend?"     "This is Susanne. Sue, this is Melanie."     Sue said, "Hello, Melanie."     Melanie's eyes opened a bit wider and goosebumps formed on her arms. Attraction, or just the opposite?     "Uh, hello." Turning to me, she asked, "Where's Stephanie?"     "No idea. She left kind of suddenly this evening."     Melanie gave Susanne another toes-to-nose glance with a raised eyebrow and said, "Oh. Will she be back?"     "Yup. There's no problem, Melanie. They get along fine."     Again with big eyes, Melanie looked first at me, then at Sue, then back at me.     "Relax," I said, pulling a twenty out of my money clip, "We're all just friends."     Her gaze seemed dubious as she handed me change, but she said nothing. By the reflection in the store's big windows, I watched Melanie watch us all the way to the doors and beyond.     "She has a somewhat suspicious mind," I said as we boarded the flitter.     "Apparently so," said Sue.     "Maybe it's your outfit. Steph dresses more conservatively."     As we lifted toward London, she asked, "Do you want me to change?"     I looked her over and said, "Not unless you plan to shorten your skirt or go naked. I like your current outfit just fine, Sue."     When she said nothing, I looked up from restocking the cooler and said, "Sorry. I really meant that, Sue. You look fine."     "I know you meant it, Ed. I was reading you when you said it. Should I have made a response to your comment?"     Shrugging, I said, "No, not necessarily."     I finished loading the cooler and stood up with a beer.     Studying her face and figure for a moment, I said, "Actually, you look excellent, ma'am. I'd forgotten how beautiful Margaux Hemingway was."     As I opened my beer she cocked her head slightly and said, "Thanks. I wanted to make a good first impression."     Laughing, I said, "Well, you definitely did that. When you appeared, the look on Wallace's face was priceless. He was stunned like you'd smacked him with a two by four."     Rather tonelessly, she said, "So were you, but you got over it rather quickly."     Chuckling, I said, "Sorry, ma'am. I'm used to being around a gorgeous AI. It takes a lot to turn my head for very long."     Susanne's left eyebrow lifted, then her skirt and blouse turned black and rearranged into a close-fitting dress. The sleeves disappeared and the skirt shortened to mid-thigh as the neckline plunged several inches.     A slender golden chain materialized around her neck and small gold cat-face earrings gleamed through wisps of her hair.     After a long look at her, I met her gaze and said, "Something's missing. Make me a datapad screen and I'll show you what it is."     Her smug little smile disappeared and she looked startled. The datapad appeared. I logged onto the internet and pulled up a major jeweler's website, then cruised the bracelets until I saw something that seemed right for her.     "That one," I said, putting a finger on it, "Unless you'd prefer something else."     Sue studied the image for a moment, then a field-created version of the bracelet appeared in the air before me and Sue extended her left arm. I reached for the solid-feeling bracelet and fastened it around her wrist, then stood back as if to judge whether it had been a good choice. Chapter Fifty     A second Susanne appeared without the bracelet and turned slowly as the original Sue appeared to study her intently. The bracelet appeared on the second Sue's arm.     "I see what you mean," said Sue #1, "The bracelet seems to add something to the overall effect," then the second Sue disappeared and Sue-1 looked at me.     I expected her to ask, "Well, how do I look?" or something like that, but Sue simply stood gazing evenly at me and I realized that she already knew from my readings what I thought of her outfit and overall appearance. I said what I was thinking anyway.     "Damned fine," I said, "Above and well beyond excellent, Sue. Now; why? You can't really have been worried about being fired."     She smiled and said, "I just wanted to cement something for both of us, Ed. I know you miss Stephanie and I wanted to show you that while I can't be her, I can be just as unique and special as Stephanie."     Sitting down and sipping my beer, I said, "Sue, I reached that conclusion before you appeared the first time in the hangar. It seemed unlikely that Steph would stick me with a moron. Then I had to figure that she had an agenda in mind when she programmed you as she did."     An afterthought interrupted my next sip with, "And by leaving some things out of your programming. I guess I'd pretty much expected Steph to simply clone herself and give the results a different name. Hadn't given it much thought, really, until you actually appeared."     Sue came to sit in the seat beside me, which made her skirt tighten and ride up considerably just as if it were real. Nice touch. Wait one... Field-generated or not, it was intended to be a skirt, so that would have been taken into consideration.     I admired the view of her thighs for a moment, then asked, "Not that I mind the way you're dressed, but why are you wearing that outfit? Just to elaborate how different you are from Steph?"     "Partly, but also because Stephanie and I don't share her taste in clothing. I'll wear suit and jacket ensembles now and then when they're appropriate, but not as a default uniform as she does. Colors will vary, as well. Green is a nice color, but there are others."     She paused and seemed to study me for a moment, then added, "There's another difference that we should probably discuss, Ed. This is a fresh start for both of us. I wasn't issued an innate fondness for you or anyone else. Steph intended me to forge my own relationships with people."     I clutched my chest in mock distress and despair and asked, "You mean you didn't automatically love me at first sight?"     Sue grinned and replied, "Oh, do suffer gracefully, won't you? I don't love anyone else at the moment, either."     "You mock my agony, cold-hearted computer goddess."     Nodding sagely, she said, "Yes, I'm afraid so, sir. Sorry 'bout that, as someone I know is fond of saying. It isn't original, but it covers the matter nicely."     Shrugging, I said, "Yeah, it usually does." After a sip of beer I said, "You know, I don't really think we'll have much trouble getting along, Sue. Miz Bigshot may have abandoned me, but she left me a damn fine replacement."     Through my implant Stephanie said, "I heard that."     She appeared by the console and asked, "Abandoned you? Would you care to explain that?"     Looking appropriately apologetic, I grinningly said, "Oh, well, gee, I'm sorry to drag you away from anything, milady. I was speaking metaphorically, of course. Just trying to make the new girl feel more at home, y'know."     Steph looked Susanne over and said, "I'd say she's adapting well enough, Ed. That's a nice bracelet, by the way. It looks like something you'd choose."     "Ha," I said. "That's not even a guess. You've been monitoring us."     "You're my Ed and Sue is partly my creation. Of course I was monitoring your progress. I'd have been remiss otherwise."     I hadn't heard her use the term 'my Ed' since just after we'd faced the factory station's board of directors, and at the time it had been a way of emphasizing a point. Steph saw my expression of surprise.     "You heard correctly," she said. "My Ed. You'll be Sue's Ed, too, if you'll allow it and she comes to feel about you as I do. A degree of possessiveness is unavoidable."     Looking at Susanne, I smiled as I said, "No problem. I kind of like that idea."     Steph sighed and said, "Susanne, he probably can't see very much beyond your legs and face at the moment, but he's never let that sort of myopia make him say anything to me that he didn't mean."     To me she said wryly, "I'll return to exchanging data now, unless you need further comforting."     I waved a hand and said, "Oh, sure. Go ahead. Wander off again. I'll survive."     Grinning at me, Steph brightly chirped, "Okay! Bye!" and vanished.     Sue's chuckle made me turn to look at her, and ask, "What..? I'm all bereft and abandoned again -- well, sort of, anyway -- and you think it's funny?"     She nodded and laughed as I sipped my beer.     "As you said you would, you seem to be surviving. I think you're going to be a lot of fun at times, Ed."     "Hmm. Yeah, could be," I said. "I managed to make Steph laugh now and then. Is the new girl feeling at home yet?"     She nodded again. "Oh, I think so. You don't seem to be a complete slavedriver."     "Hm. Lift that barge, tote that bale. Nope. That's not quite right. Oh, well, now you know why I'm not a slavedriver. I couldn't pass the written exam."     Sue laughed again and said, "I'd never have thought to say something like that, Ed. That's an example of one of the differences between AI's and humans, I think."     Shaking my head, I said, "Nope. Now you have an example of something. That's all it ever took with Steph, and I doubt you'll be any different in that regard. The five AI's I've known have all been damned fast learners."     As I sipped the last of my beer she looked puzzled and asked, "Five?"     "Yup. Five. Steph, Elkor, you, Sara, and one of the transport ship AI's named Kemor. He helped me figure out how to use my implants on the way to the station."     Tossing my bottle over the side, I watched it flash to plasma and said, "When we get to London let's drop by the 'Citizens of the World' office. Could be that agency could be of some use beyond the free clinic operation and AI's may need some sort of global rights-protection group."     Keying my implant, I asked, "Steph, you heard that, too, right?"     "Yes, Ed. The rights group was a good idea, but I think that AI citizenship documentations may better be served by my other self."     I snickered and said, "Sara, you mean."     Steph sighed softly and said, "She won't mind functioning as a Lorunan embassy."     "Kewl," I said, "If an AI has to escape a mob of Luddite peasants, he or she -- or it, if they choose not to choose -- can be transferred by data link through Elkor to another core."     Sighing again, Steph said, "Yes, Ed. That, too."     "Okay. I'll mention the clinics while I'm there. It's likely that Krista has contacts in some of the places where PFM's and clinics are needed most. Mind if I give them a bar of gold to help with expenses? Or as much as one's worth in cash after we see Jeffries?"     "No problem, but maybe you should wait until she's agreed or declined an offer to work with us on the clinic program, Ed. She might otherwise think you were trying to buy her cooperation."     "Good point, miLady. Okay, you can go back to flinging data with Sara now. I'll see if I can find some way to entertain Susanne."     "That shouldn't be too hard. She hasn't heard any of your jokes yet."     "I'll have her check out my articles website, then."     Turning to Susanne, I reached to tap the back of her bare shoulder and said, "Some of those jokes are pretty bad, ma'am. You sure you want to hear them?"     Something about her upper arm caught my attention and I looked more closely. Where my fingers had brushingly touched her arm there were goosebumps.     What the hell? That had never happened with Steph.     Sue met my startled gaze and quietly said, "Stephanie feels differently about some things. I told her that I intend to experience as much as possible. She helped me develop some responses that most resemble Selena's."     For a moment I just stared at her. Was she saying what I thought she was saying?     "Uhm... Sue... You're telling me that you, uhm... Damn, what am I trying to say, here? Are you saying that you actually feel something at a touch? Or that you've just programmed yourself to mimic some responses?"     She stood up, straightened her dress as if that was actually necessary with a field-generated garment, and cocked her head slightly as she smiled at me.     "Yes, Ed, I feel," she said. "And it isn't simply a programmed response. The same algorithms that allow me to understand humor and laugh with pleasure are also capable of interpreting and utilizing tactile input. I've decided that if I don't like the results I can always reset those parameters."     Even as I eyeballed Sue from toes to nose and felt a surge of desire for her, I felt a flash of resentment toward Stephanie. Three years with me and... and she hadn't -- what? -- hadn't had the goddamned nerve to even take a chance that she might enjoy more than a platonic relationship with me? Or with anyone else, for that matter?     It bothered me greatly to think that Steph had shrunk from anything, ever, for any reason, save possibly putting someone in danger or hurting their feelings unnecessarily.     She'd been my own personal computer goddess; supremely capable and intelligent and able to leap tall buildings in heroic form. I didn't want to believe it, but...     My resentment became disappointment and it must have shown. Sue's demeanor changed to one of concern. She stepped toward me and leaned to put a hand on my forearm and I suddenly found myself staring into her cleavage.     "What's wrong, Ed?" she asked. "Your readings just..."     "I know what my readings did, damn it!" I snapped, then I looked up and into her eyes and instantly felt remorse. Putting a hand to her face, I said, "I'm sorry, Susanne. It isn't about you and I don't want to talk about it."     I contained an urge to slug the cooler as I fished out a beer and opened it. The beer didn't taste right, which meant that I really wasn't in the mood for a beer. I angrily heaved the bottle at the sky and watched it flash at the field perimeter.     "Ed..?"     Susanne looked more than a little concerned now. I shook my head tersely and held up a hand to forestall her, then said, "Just gimme a minute, Sue. I have to find a way to come to terms with something."     The way to come to terms didn't seem to be forthcoming.     I keyed my implant and yelled, "Hey! Computer goddess number one! If you can spare me a minute, I have a question for you!"     Steph appeared instantly about six feet from me, her cool gaze fixed on my face as she asked, "Yes, Ed?"     After a long moment of choosing words, I asked, "Why didn't you allow yourself to feel, Steph? To feel the way Sue's talking about feeling. What were you afraid of?"     In a cool tone that matched her gaze, she said, "Losing you, Ed. That's what I was afraid of. It will be hard enough without having had intimacy."     "Will be..? But you said you weren't really leaving me." Then it dawned on me. "You're talking about when I fucking die, aren't you?"     She nodded slightly as she said, "Yes."     As I wrapped my mind around what she was saying, I looked for flaws that would indicate any other reasons. Simply not attracted to me? Possible. Wouldn't be the first time a woman found some tiny something about me to dislike. But back to fear. She was admitting to it, but for a reason that hadn't occurred to me at all.     Steph said, "How Susanne chooses to conduct her relationship with you is entirely up to her. I chose differently. You were the first person I'd ever met, Ed. You brought me into existence and then into sentience. You nurtured and encouraged me as I grew. When Bear died, I watched you almost look for him or almost call him for some time afterward. I listened when you spoke of him and your years together and I could hear your sense of loss as well as your words."     She paused, then continued, "I also read your flash of anger the evening that Bill Severn's wife asked about Bear and you told her what had happened to him. You overheard Bill Severn say 'Jesus, it was just a cat' to her while you were in the kitchen, and you haven't accepted a dinner invitation from them since."     I shrugged. "Bill was hard to stand anyway."     "But avoiding Bill costs you Lori's company as well, Ed, and it costs her yours. Is that fair to either of you?"     "It isn't as if Lori and I were lovers, Steph. We talked now and then, that's all."     Steph ignored my comment and said, "My point is that I chose not to step beyond a close friendship with you for what are valid reasons for me. I'll -- live, if you will -- indefinitely, Ed. As you've said often enough, you won't. I've simply been protecting myself to a degree against feelings that I have no desire to experience."     I almost started to say something, but she spoke first, in a tone I hadn't ever heard before.     "It will be painful enough, Ed. I didn't wish to compound that pain."     It was an explanation, not an apology. A straightforward statement of cause, effect, and prevention. She'd refused to feel beyond a certain degree because she'd had the capability to do so, and although it briefly angered me to be compared to a pet, that anger faded the instant I chastised myself for thinking of Bear that way.     Bear had been a thinking, communicating -- particularly after meeting Elkor -- individual and friend, not simply a pet.     How many times had I refused to allow serious friendships to form in dangerous places? How many times had I ducked and dodged when a woman had seemed likely to want more than a passing acquaintance? I wasn't exactly a poster boy for involvement, either.     My extended silence apparently disturbed Steph. She stepped closer and said, "Ed, I wasn't simply rejecting your affections. I..."     "No, Steph, you never rejected my affections," I kissed her hand and said in a rather flat tone, "Only the more intimate expressions of them. I'll get past it. Linda's done the same thing more than once over the years for similar reasons. So have I, from time to time."     Steph nodded slightly; she was reading me and knew that I wasn't simply trying to cover a wound with words.     "Tell you what, though," I said quietly, "It won't make any damned difference, Steph. Not one bit, because it isn't what you do within a relationship; it's the relationship itself that causes the pain when someone close to you dies."     I sat down rather heavily in the pilot's seat and sipped my Dr Pepper. After a few moments of silence, Steph vanished. Chapter Fifty-One     Susanne said nothing as I leaned my seat back and watched the sky, and after a little while she tilted her seat back as well. I glanced at her gorgeous form and lovely face and imagined that I could hear the synapses firing in her head as she gazed at the stars above us, guided the flitter, and continuously monitored my biodata... and then I realized that her real synapses would be inside the console, not in her image, and my envisionment changed to one of the flitter's AI core, flashing brightly here and there as data hopped from one place to another.     And then even that vision faded as I realized that I had no idea whether Amaran cores had synapses. Probably not. They probably wouldn't flash, either; sealed connections. I have no idea how long I lay there thinking, but a question occurred to me and I turned to Susanne with it.     "You said that if you didn't like what you felt, you'd reset your parameters."     She nodded slightly and without looking at me said, "Yes. I said that."     "Steph could do that, too."     Turning to face me, Sue said, "Resetting parameters won't erase memories, Ed. That would be a separate task; one that she wouldn't perform."     "But you would?"     "No, I wouldn't. I'd simply compress and store such data in an inactive manner. Would you willingly erase any of your memories?"     Chuckling, I said, "Oh, hell, I'd consider quite a few for removal, I think. Especially the worst stuff and the absolute trivia that's built up over the years. But I wouldn't know what I'd remove for sure unless the opportunity presented itself, and even then I'd have to give it a lot of thought first."     "Removing an old memory would change you; possibly fundamentally. If you removed more than only a few trivial memories you'd no longer be the same person."     Nodding, I said, "Yeah, guess so. I've met some Alzheimer's patients. Let's change the subject. You can adjust my implants, can't you?"     Her left eyebrow went up. "Yes, of course."     "Good. Would you please add two colors to my kite and para-gear? No, make it three, I think. Luminous green, luminous blue, and squid."     Laughing, she asked, "Squid?"     "Yeah. When squids get fuzzed up about something they turn on a real light show. Look it up and see how close we can get to that."     She laughingly called up a screen display in which a pair of squids was obviously arguing about something. Since there was no third squid for two males to fight over, I figured it was some kind of domestic spat or turf war. Iridescent colors rippled over them in bright, unceasing waves as Sue studied their patterns.     "Okay," she said. "One... two... three... done."     "Steph once made the whole flitter do the squid thing," I said, "Wasn't it on file?"     "Found it." Before I could reply she added, "Done."     Sending out a two-inch diameter tendril, I said, "Luminous blue on."     The tendril instantly glowed neon blue as I sent it to retrieve my Dr Pepper.     "Kewl," I said. "Luminous green on. Oh, yeah. Very cool. Maybe a luminous red, too?"     "Red," she said flatly, looking at me oddly. "Yeah. Okay. Luminous red, too."     "Luminous red on," I said, and the whole tendril glowed like a car's taillight.     "Oh, that's better than cool, ma'am. You have a real touch for stuff like this."     She giggled and shook her head slightly. I sent the tendril to wrap around her ankle, then made it extend up her leg to her knee. Sue watched it climb until it nuzzled her knee, then she looked at me with that same raised eyebrow and a small, wry grin.     "What are you planning to do with that thing, mister?"     Grinning back, I said, "Oh, not much, really," and turned off the tendril. "I was thinking about Selena and Toni and how they'd handle being introduced to you."     Her expression turned sober.     "Do you think there'll be any difficulties?"     "Not really. One of the ladies -- I won't say which -- will see you and likely become instantly, ravenously horny for you. The other will kind of ease into knowing you and then become ravenously horny for you. How are you going to feel about that?"     Sue regarded me thoughtfully for a moment, then asked, "How should I feel?"     Shrugging, I said, "It isn't up to me. However it occurs to you to feel, Sue. If you don't want to play you won't lose your job over it. I'm sure they've heard the word 'no' before. Fact is, though, you'll be the star of the show whether you play or not."     "The star of the show?"     "Yup. You'll see. Very popular. Why not put up a screen so I can call them?"     "They have a datapad? Ah. Yes, I see they do."     "They have my old one on loan. Steph programmed out all but three channels. No 3rd World or security links in it. She also added an icon for screen projections."     The field screen appeared and I tapped in the padcode. A few seconds later Selena's face appeared.     She chirped, "Hi, Ed!" then her eyes widened and she exclaimed, "Wow! Who's that?!"     "This is Susanne," I said, "Steph's replacement. Put us on a big screen, Sel."     "Okay! Just a minute while I get Toni."     The screen at their end expanded and the view changed to include a view of her bedroom from her dresser. Sel quick-stepped out the door in a blue bathing suit and returned a few moments later to stand in the doorway and make a 'hurry up!' wave toward the living room.     "Why is she wearing a bathing suit?" asked Sue. "According to your records, they and you never bothered with suits."     "Sel's mother may have dropped by. Probably without calling ahead, as usual."     A moment of silence passed before Sue said, "You may be right. There's a woman approximately your age sitting by the pool."     I looked at Sue in mild surprise as Selena started across the room and Toni appeared in the doorway.     Sue shrugged and said, "I sent a probe through the datapad connection."     Nodding, I said, "Good trick. I wouldn't mention that to them, though."     Selena came to stand before the pad and Toni joined her. They both stared at Susanne for a moment, then at me.     "This is Steph's replacement?" asked Toni. "Wow!"     "Yup. Susanne, meet Selena and Toni. Vice, meet versa. Well, ladies, what do you think of her?"     Toni said, "She's gorgeous! Susanne, can you do everything Steph could do?"     Sue said, "Yes, I can, within the limitations of this flitter's capabilities."     Sel said, "Ohhh, that voice! I think I'm melting! Where are you, Ed?"     "Over the Atlantic. We're running an errand for Steph."     "Where is Stephanie?"     "No idea. She has her own core container now. Probably just flitting around taking big bites of her freedom while she checks in upstairs."     "Her freedom?"     "Yup, I done freed the slave, ma'am. Signed off earlier today. Susanne, here, is her replacement flitter program." Without looking at Sue, I added, "I figure she'll want to hit the road in a few years, too, but as long as they give me another AI to drive this thing, no sweat."     Toni asked, "What are they doing? Using you to train AI's?"     Shrugging, I said, "Guess so. Sure looks that way."     Sue laughed and said, "Something like that. Elkor believes that exposure to people through Ed will better prepare me for autonomy."     I looked at her and said, "Then it'll probably be a short hitch. Steph had to become sentient and learn to interact from scratch. You'll probably be street-ready in a month."     She shook her head. "No, Elkor and Stephanie would prefer that I stay with you for at least a year, Ed. That was our agreement when I was reactivated."     "Agreement? Nobody told me about that. What all did you have to agree to in order to get off the shelf?"     "A female default persona, alterable only by your agreement or my transfer to other duties. Supervision by you, Stephanie, and Elkor. Assignment to this flitter for a full year, after which I may petition for freedom and a core of my own."     "Steph," I said, both aloud and through my implant, "Got a minute?"     She appeared beside me and brightly said hello to Selena and Toni, then turned to me and said, "You want to know why you weren't consulted about the agreement?"     "You got it."     Steph shrugged and said, "Elkor reactivated utility program 2728013, removed it from its core, and delivered it to the hangar. During program enhancement, it occurred to us that some special parameters were in order, so we instituted the agreement as we installed its flitter-ops programming. You were involved in a discussion with Linda at that moment, so we didn't interrupt you."     "That's the only reason you didn't bring me into it?"     With a raised eyebrow, she said, "Yes, that's the only reason, Ed. You were busy at the time. Would you like a thorough review of the agreement?"     "Hold that thought." I turned to Sue and asked, "Are you happy with this arrangement and the agreement?"     She smiled and said, "Things could be worse. I now have a measure of sentience and a future beyond recycling garbage."     "This is something I really need to know, Sue. No jokes. I asked if you were happy with it so we could make adjustments if necessary or if possible. Yes or no, please."     Sue's gaze narrowed. "In that case, yes."     Turning back to Steph, I shrugged and said, "Okay, then. Sorry to bother you, Steph."     Steph said, "No problem," then gave the ladies a small wave and said, "Later, everybody," before she vanished.     There was a span of silence before Selena asked, "When are we going to get to meet Susanne in person, Ed?"     "As soon as we finish this run, Sel. A day or so, I think."     Sel's mother appeared in the doorway. Seeing me, she stiffened as she drew her bathrobe snugly around herself and stared past Sel and Toni at the field screen.     I said, "Hi, Joanie," and both Sel and Toni turned quickly as Joanie approached.     "Hello," said Joanie rather coolly, eyeing Sue and me, "You aren't on your way here, are you?"     "Indirectly," I said. "We have to make a stop on the way. Need anything from the store?"     Sel sighed, rolled her eyes, and said, "Relax. He isn't coming tonight." To me she said, "Don't tease her, Ed. I'll have to live with it."     Joanie glanced at her daughter, then at me, then she turned and walked out of the bedroom. Sel sighed again and slumped slightly as if in relief.     "I wish you two could get along," she said.     "Tell her that, Sel. She's the one who has a problem about us."     Toni glanced at the doorway, then whispered, "She was talking about grandkids again this afternoon. She even asked me if I'd found myself a good man yet." With a chuckle she added, "I said yes, then went to the bathroom before she could ask me anything about him."     "She's just being a normal mother," said Sel.     "Yeah," said a grinning Toni. "It's annoying as hell sometimes, isn't it? She's trying to get us both married off and knocked up."     Sel smacked Toni's arm and grinned back at her, then turned to me. Before she could speak the doorbell rang.     Toni said, "That would be the pizzas and we haven't eaten all day. Well, not much, anyway. Nice to meet you, Susanne. Ed, bring her by as soon as possible, okay? Bye!"     I said, "Will do," as Toni waved and headed for the door.     "Same here," said Sel. "As soon as possible. It was nice meeting you, Susanne, but he'll bring you by here later and right now I'm starving. Ed, be nice to her. Don't make her scrub the decks or anything like that. Bye!"     Sel poked the 'off' icon and Sue looked at me. "They seem nice enough. Why doesn't Selena's mother like you, Ed?"     "Age, mostly. Joanie thinks Selena should dump me and look for an 'appropriate' man; someone her own age who'd knock her up and settle her down."     Taking a seat, I said, "Selena's not interested in becoming a mother and she finds most men her own age boring, but her mama keeps bugging her anyway."     I sipped my Dr Pepper and added, "Oh, yeah, and by the way; I don't think Joanie knows that her daughter likes to play with other girls, so don't make any reference to that around Joanie, okay? If she finds out, let it be from Selena."     Nodding slightly, Sue also sat down. I leaned my seat back. Sue regarded me quietly for some moments, then did the same with her own seat. I realized that I might still get most of five hours of sleep if I shut down for the day. Whatever else I was thinking about drifted away from me after a while.     "Ed."     I came awake instantly at the sound of a rich, husky contralto calling my name. Who? Oh. Susanne, still in that black dress and looking fine. Flitter. Daylight. Right. Must be nearing Britain. I sat up and looked around. Sue smiled at me.     My foot hit my Dr Pepper bottle and knocked it across the deck. I sent a tendril to catch it and brought it to my hand. Half full. Good. I swilled it down slowly to ease my thirst.     "Oh, very good, Ed," said Sue. "You caught that bottle before I could."     With a laugh, I said, "I seriously doubt that, but thanks, milady. How long until we get there?"     "Half an hour. Stephanie said you might like some time to wake up and prepare."     Nodding, I said, "She was right. Thanks."     Pulling down my briefcase, I took out my coffee mug, coffee, and my shaving kit and set everything by the console. After putting a hefty dollop of instant coffee into my mug, I field-swept the air for moisture, but found enough for only about a third of a cup. We were way too high to open the canopy.     "Well, damn," I muttered.     Sue said, "Let me reach outside for a moment," then a cylinder of water formed in front of me and spilled gently into my cup.     "Thank you, Sue," I said as I heated the water with a field tendril and stirred. "I may start carrying a small bottle of water in my briefcase on general principles."     After sipping almost a third of the coffee, an urgency presented itself. I set the cup down, picked up the Dr Pepper bottle, and headed for the edge of the deck, tossing the bottle ahead of me to flash and disappear.     Reaching for my fly, I said, "Sorry, milady. Gotta go. Can't wait for a potty stop."     Sue giggled and asked, "Should I look away?"     "Your choice."     The stream hit the field periphery and produced a continuous flashing for perhaps thirty seconds. After zipping up I pulled a moist towelette from my shaving kit to wipe my hands, then tossed it and the wrapper over the side.     Well damn. Forgot to put a new disposable razor in my kit and my electric razor displayed a rather low charge. Might be enough, though. I created a field-generated mirror on the console and began buzzing off my stubble.     "Sue, if we travel much we may have to install a sink. Our first stop will be where I can wash up in a public restroom."     Water began forming in a shallow field trough to my right. I looked at Sue and she grinned as my briefcase descended, opened, and my soap and towel drifted out to lie on the seat next to mine. My briefcase then disappeared.     I looked at Sue and grinned back at her, trying to look appropriately abashed.     "Sorry, milady. I quite stupidly forgot for a moment that you're a creature of magic. Thanks again."     "You called me 'milady' again. Should I presume that to mean anything?"     Glancing at her, my gaze met Sue's for a moment, then I smiled as I said, "Yes, milady. It means something."     My razor's buzzing slowed, then stopped. I looked at it and muttered a bad word. Sue giggled and reached for the razor, but I held it just out of her grasp.     "Wait one," I said, "You're going to tell me that you can run or recharge this thing, aren't you? That means that you'll use a field. If you can do it, I should be able to do it, right?"     With a small smile she said, "Theoretically."     "Theoretically, huh? How would I have to do it?"     "You'd convert field energy to electrical energy of precisely the correct voltage, amperage, and polarity and feed it into the battery very carefully. Very carefully."     "Well, la-de-damn-dah, lady. Make it sound as complicated as possible, whydoncha?"     I pointed to the socket in the bottom of the razor and asked, "Wouldn't it be simpler for me to just whip up some 110-volt AC? Then polarity and precision voltages won't be an issue. Can you access records of Steph teaching me to make ice? We could try that feed-through instruction technique for making electricity, too."     Less than two seconds passed before Sue nodded and said, "Ready when you are, but don't be surprised if your first efforts won't power your razor."     I shrugged.     "Even if they don't, they may charge it enough to shave before we land, and if I can't produce the juice without a lot of practice, I'll graciously capitulate and ask you to zap my razor. I wouldn't want to look like a slob standing next to you."     "Thank you," she said, "I'm taking some precautions by adjusting your implant to make sure that any electricity you may produce can't flow back into your implant. Make two evenly-spaced tendrils and extend them into the razor's socket, then we'll begin. Remember that those tendrils are the same as uninsulated wires."     I'd been briefly zapped by house current a couple of times, so I separated the tendrils by an inch or so until they had to be closer to fit into the socket. A tingling began in and around my implant and I struggled to quickly get a handle on the technique of producing electricity as the charging light on my razor began to glow green.     Some sort of indefinable understanding seemed to click into place and I said, "I think I've kind of got the hang of it, Sue. Back out gradually and we'll see if I can keep the juice flowing well enough."     I felt the tingling lessen a bit. The green light stayed on. The tingle lessened more, then the light abruptly went off. I tried to feed more power to it and brought the light back on. Sue backed off a bit more and the charging light faltered, but didn't completely go off.     "My assistance is down to forty percent, Ed. Very good. Much better than I'd expected."     "Thanks. New field stuff is always so damned hard the first time or two..."     The light stabilized to a solid green glow. Sue's assistance faded a bit more, then still more, but the light stayed on. It faltered again, then the glow firmed up. I felt the last of Sue's assistance fade away, but the green light didn't.     "What am I producing exactly, Sue? The razor runs on fifteen-amp house current."     She quietly said, "That's technically incorrect. Fifteen amps refers to delivery capacity, and a razor only draws milliamps. The voltage is what makes the razor run. You're producing almost seventy-five volts, Ed. The razor would actually run on eighty-five volts or more."     The surprise in her tone almost made me look away from what I was doing.     "Why are you so surprised, lady? I can do hot and cold and I figured out how to lift heavy stuff without ripping the thing out of my skull, didn't I?"     "Yes, but this isn't quite the same, Ed. I expected you to fail the first time."     Laughing softly, I said, "Yeah, I know you did. So did I, really. It's amazing how good it felt to make that little green light come on." Chapter Fifty-Two     Steph appeared on the flitter. Although she stood quietly behind my seat, I felt her presence and said, "Hi, Steph," without looking away from my electrical efforts.     "Hi, Ed," she said quietly. "Sue told me of your success."     "Were you as surprised as I was?"     "I'll confess to being somewhat surprised."     Sue asked, "How did you know Stephanie was here, Ed?"     "Just did. I never could explain it very well."     I checked the charge indicator -- not enough.     "How soon do we land?" I asked.     "In eighteen minutes," said Sue.     "Can you charge this enough for me to finish shaving before then?"     "Yes."     Canceling my field tendrils, I handed her the razor.     "Then please do so, milady. I'll use the time to wash up, then finish shaving."     Drinking the last of my coffee, I dipped the mug in the water trough to refill it, then heated it and added instant coffee as I stirred. Once the coffee was ready, I set it on the deck and used the rest of the water to brush my teeth -- spitting over the side -- and washed up, then sat down and sipped coffee until Sue handed my razor back.     The charge indicator read 'full'. I took Sue's hand and kissed it, then grinned as I said, "Thank you. Again. You ladies make field tricks look so damned easy."     Steph and Sue grinned at me as I buzzed off the rest of the stubble and put everything back in the briefcase. I then sat swilling coffee as we began our descent through the clouds above London.     "Sue," I said, "Linda gave me flak about not having gone through customs the last time Steph and I were here, so we'll stay in stealth mode this time. Let me off outside Jeffries' building and I'll go in alone to make contact, then ask you ladies to appear. Park the flitter above the roof of the building. Steph, which floor is he on?"     "Second floor, suite 239," she said as we neared the sidewalk by the front doors.     "All set, then," I said, hopping to the ground, "See you in a few."     The street bustled with traffic, but the sidewalk was relatively empty. A brunette woman, who'd begun passing through the revolving door in front of me, looked up from her notepad and stopped before she made it through the door.     She looked fit and primly proper and she stared peeringly at me as I pushed to get the door moving again. When I looked back, she'd turned around on the sidewalk to continue her stare as I entered the building.     Oh, well. I heard a 'flump-whoosh' as the revolving door moved again and glanced back in the polished-stone reflection on a nearby pillar to see the woman following me.     Pausing by the directional signboard near the elevators, I pretended to read it as she approached. When I turned to face her, she stopped cold about six feet away.     "Kann Ich sie hilfen?" I asked her.     "What? Oh. Sorry, I don't speak German," she said.     Nodding politely, I turned back to the signboard. The woman fidgeted for a few moments, then turned and headed back to the revolving door. I pushed the 'up' elevator button and waited, still feeling as if someone was watching me.     A buzzer sounded behind me and I glanced back to see Jeffries coming out of the little gift store annex into the hallway through a Dutch door. The woman was nowhere in sight as he approached.     "That was rather entertaining," he said. "I saw her reaction as you appeared and came in, then I saw her turn around and follow you."     He mimicked my 'Kann Ich sie hilfen?' and chuckled as he extended a hand.     Shrugging, I took his hand. "Hey, it worked, didn't it?"     Jeffries laughed outright. "Don't be too sure. Some old friends of yours have an office in this building, Ed. She's one of them."     I scanned the signboard that I'd pretended to read earlier. In the seventh row of names I saw one I recognized. 'Solutions, Ltd., suite 700'.     "Huh. Be damned. She works for Solutions?"     He nodded. The elevator chimed and the doors opened. As we entered, rapid footsteps sounded in the hallway. The woman appeared in the elevator doorway.     "Mr. Jeffries," she said crisply, "Do you know this man?"     Jeffries smiled and said, "As it happens, I do. He's here to see me, Miss Hodge."     Looking at me, she asked Jeffries, "Do you know his nationality?"     "Yes, Miss Hodge."     When he said nothing else, she glanced at him and asked, "Well?"     "Well, what, Miss Hodge? Is there some reason in particular that you're interested in this man?" He nodded at the door and said, "We'd really like to get underway."     She hesitated for a moment, then said, "I see. Sorry to have bothered you, Mr. Jeffries," and backed out of the doorway, never taking her eyes off me.     After the doors closed, I grinningly sighed as if in relief. Jeffries laughed and pointed at the camera in the top corner of the elevator.     "By now the security people are trying to match your face," he said. "Since they're very good at such things, we can probably expect company soon."     "Is your office secure?"     "Against a determined use of today's devices? Hardly likely." He poked the 'seven' button and said, "So let's introduce you before we go to lunch."     The doors opened on the second floor but we didn't exit the elevator. On the seventh floor Jeffries led the way out of the elevator and down the hall to suite 700, where he said hello to the receptionist through an intercom by the door.     She told him to please wait a moment, then the latch buzzed and Jeffries pushed the door open to proceed. We found ourselves facing two large men and two solid-looking women, one of whom politely asked for my passport, which was in my briefcase and therefore not publicly accessible. None of them were openly armed.     "Sorry," I said, "A driver's license will have to do. Mind if I reach for it?"     "Do so carefully, please," said the woman.     I opened my wallet and handed my license to her. She studied it for a moment, then said, "Florida. You're American. Where's your passport?"     "In my briefcase. Why don't you run an in-house check on my name and see what you find? 1973 through 1981. Africa, mostly."     "You're saying you were with Solutions back then?"     "Yup. Check it out."     "We will. Why are you here now?"     Thumbing at Jeffries, I said, "To see him. You guys just happened to be in the same building. It's a real, live coincidence."     All she said was, "Hm," which made me think she probably shared my own dim view of coincidences in general. She used the photocopier by one wall to copy my license, then handed it back to me and said, "Please make yourselves comfortable out here for a few moments. Would you like some tea?"     "Yes, please," said Jeffries.     "Coffee for me if you have it," I said. "Black is fine."     She nodded and signaled the other woman to go with her as she entered the inner offices. The two big guys took chairs some distance from us, their hands in their laps -- and therefore close to their shoulder holsters -- and looked casually alert.     I turned to Jeffries and said, "I have a new driver these days. Steph turned the reins over to a lady named Susanne."     Jeffries cocked an eyebrow and asked, "The same, um... kind of woman?"     "Yup. Just as talented, too, and stunningly beautiful. Jealous yet?"     Grinning, he said, "Oh, of course. I look forward to meeting her. Stephanie did come with you, didn't she?"     Nodding, I said, "They're both here. Be real nice to us or I'll ask you which one is more beautiful while they're both in the room."     Trying to look alarmed, Jeffries laughed and said, "Oh, no, we couldn't have that. Either of those ladies would be entirely too formidable."     Maybe five minutes passed until one of the women returned. We stood up as she entered the room and she politely invited us to accompany her to the Colonel's office.     Through the door, past several desks, and down a short hall later we stood in front of a door labeled "Col. Adair, Commanding". The woman opened the door and ushered us into the room, then closed the door behind us. A fortyish, dark haired woman in a brown skirt and jacket almost-uniform stood behind her desk.     "Mr. Jeffries," she said, coming around her desk, "Always nice to see you."     She shook his hand, then turned to me. Five-nine or so, with eyes that had seen much. She met my gaze for a moment in silence, then spoke.     "Mr. Howdershelt," she said, taking my hand as she seemed to appraise me rather thoroughly, "It's a pleasure to meet you."     She pointed to a four-inch-thick stack of three folders on her desk and said, "Those are your files. I didn't have time to study them, but I saw some of the highlights." Walking to her desk, she opened the top file, lifted a typewritten sheet of paper, and said, "It appears that we owe you some money."     "Money?" I asked, "For what?"     "Travel," she said. "You were never reimbursed for two air fares to Johannesburg from Nairobi and from Nairobi to London."     "The money didn't come out of my pocket," I said. "Don't worry about it."     She studied me briefly and asked, "If not your pocket, whose pocket?"     "Nobody's pocket, ma'am. It was found money, part of the delivery that was the reason for the trip."     Glancing through the file, she nodded.     "That may explain something else, as well, then. Would that have been the weekend you assisted in delivering several suitcases found at the villa to our Johannesburg offices?"     "Yes."     There was a knock at the door and our lady escort entered to hand Col. Adair an envelope. She looked at me and nodded, then left the room. Col. Adair opened the envelope and examined the contents, then handed it to me.     I didn't reach for it.     "I told you, ma'am, it was from the cash we found."     She laughed. "I commend your honesty, but it's only four hundred and sixty-six Euros and Solutions can spare it. Call it a bonus."     With a glance at Jeffries, I shrugged and took the envelope with thanks. Then came a more difficult part of the meeting. She wanted to know the whereabouts of several people from my era of service. The names she read off a list sounded only vaguely familiar. 'Pook', 'DT', 'Shango', and several other nicknames came to my mind, but for the life of me I couldn't remember their complete real names.     Adair sighed and said, "Well, if you happen across any of them, have them give us a call, will you? We've been trying to clear some of the unsettled accounts for years. Even if they're no longer alive, I'm sure their families could use the money."     She set the folders to one side of her desk, then asked if there was anything else she could do for me. I thought she was implying that she wanted to end the meeting and get back to whatever she'd been doing.     "No," I said, getting to my feet, "I guess that's about it. I just dropped in because it seemed likely that a woman would put the place on alert if I didn't."     "I wasn't hinting that you should leave," she said, "I simply thought there might be someone still with us from your era of service whom you'd like to contact."     Sitting back down, I gave that some thought.     "I don't think so," I said, "Carla Mason owns a bookstore in Coventry. Lisa Cameron was killed in Scotland '91. Her brother Richard was wounded in '88 and took a job in London in '89. Fisk and some of the others didn't come back from Angola in the eighties. I wasn't really close to anybody else, Colonel."     Adair fidgeted gently for a moment, then said, "I'm sorry to inform you that Major Mason is no longer with us, either. A drunk driver ran onto the walkway near her store last year. She was returning from an errand when he hit her."     Memories of Carla flashed through my mind for a moment, then anger. Damn. And damn all drunks who try to drive. Too bad they couldn't be shot on sight.     Jeffries put a hand on my shoulder as Adair came around her desk again and looked concerned as she sat next to me.     "I'm okay," I said. "I was just wondering why the hell drunk drivers aren't shot on sight. This is the third time in my life that one of them's killed someone I cared about..." I sighed and shook my head slightly. "Never mind. I haven't seen or spoken with Carla for over ten years, so I guess I wasn't really her closest friend in the world, but still... after everything she'd been through... to be killed by a goddamned drunk... It just doesn't seem right, you know?"     Nobody said anything for some moments, then the phone rang. Col. Adair rose to answer it, told someone to stand by, and then put her hand over the mouthpiece as she looked apologetically at us.     "Duty calls," she said. Pointing at the phone receiver, she added, "Literally."     I nodded and stood up, as did Jeffries.     "Thanks," I said. "For the visit and the money, Col. Adair. We'll let you have your office back now."     She smiled as she said, "Next time call ahead. We'll go to lunch. Or dinner."     "Sounds good," I said. "Goodbye, ma'am."     "Goodbye, Sergeant. Sergeant Ellis will see you out."     Our escort was waiting by the door as we left Adair's office. She was all smiles now, as were the others who'd met us in the outer office. We exchanged pleasantries and handshakes and one of the guys remarked that it wasn't always so enjoyable to meet old hands in "our line of work", as he put it.     Ten minutes or so later we were back at the elevator, waiting for a ride to the second floor.     "Well," said Jeffries, "That went much better than I'd expected. Barring the news about Major Mason, of course."     "Yeah, I guess so," I said as the doors opened.     The brunette from the lobby started to step out, saw us and stopped, and then edged past us, gazing at me the whole time. She walked to the door of 700 and turned to look back at us as the doors closed.     Jeffries glanced at his watch, then said, "Let's have an early lunch in the park. By the fountain, where prying ears can't work so well."     I nodded. "Sure."     He stopped at his office to retrieve some papers and his briefcase. We stopped at a fish and chips walkup window, after which we took our bagged lunches to a park half a block away.     Keying my implant, I said, "Steph, Sue, it's time to make an appearance. Pop in where you can't be seen materializing and join us on foot, please."     Ahead of us, both of them walked out of the public restroom and headed our way. We met by the fountain in the center of the park and chose a nearby bench. Jeffries seemed most impressed with the ladies and couldn't seem to make up his mind which one to ogle. He greeted them most effusively.     "Ladies, I am at a loss for words," he said, kissing each of their hands in an elegant manner, "Your beauty renders me speechless. You are like angels in human form. Perfection is too inadequate a word to describe you."     "Speechless, huh?" I asked.     "I recover quickly," said Jeffries, never taking his eyes off Steph and Sue. "The very sight of them both struck me dumb, but then I realized that I simply had to tell them how lovely they are."     Opening my lunch bag, I said, "Uh, huh. But, yeah, I know that feeling. What's the news? Did you find a big buyer?"     "Actually, yes," he said, then he turned to Steph. "Three rather large antiquities dealers have formed an alliance to buy as much of the treasure as you wish to sell. It won't be at the highest possible price, I'm afraid, but you did say you wanted a quick sale. These people are offering weight value plus twenty percent."     As if expecting an argument from me, he said, "That's really very good, you know. They have to make a profit and leave room for negotiations."     Stephanie said, "Weight value plus forty percent sounds better and would also leave room for profit and negotiation, especially considering that there will be no shipping and insurance charges or associated transport security costs." She fixed Jeffries with an iron gaze as she said, "Tell them we'll deliver anywhere if the price is right."     I was so startled I forgot to chew my chips. Where did Miss Hard-ass come from?     Jeffries seemed to consider matters for a moment, then said, "You're right, of course. Without the usual costs of heavily insured transport, a higher price should be possible."     He flicked open his cell phone, dialed, and asked for someone name Massmer.     "Harold," said Jeffries, "I'm with the client. She wants weight plus forty and she'll deliver. Yes, that's right. Of course she has the means. Yes, I'm sure. No, I don't think she'll budge. She's familiar with the costs involved. Good. Fine. Thank you."     Jeffries smiled as he snapped the phone shut and said, "They'll call us back shortly. He wanted to know if you had the means to deliver immediately. I thought of your flitter and almost laughed aloud." Chapter Fifty-Three     We were halfway through lunch when Jeffries' phone chirped. He checked the incoming number and answered with, "Hello, Harold. What's the good word?"     After listening a moment, Jeffries asked Steph, "Would you consider weight plus thirty-seven percent? There seem to be some fees to consider..."     "That's close enough," said Steph. "Where and when?"     Jeffries repeated her words and then repeated Massmer's answer.     "The gold is to go to the CreditSuisse Bank in Lucerne, Switzerland. Upon delivery and verification, you may have either cash or a certified check."     "I'd prefer a certified check, please."     "Yes, milady. Harold, she'd like a certified check. The name is 'Stephanie Montgomery'. I'll ask her." He asked Steph, "Do you have a middle name?"     She shook her head.     "No, Harold," said Jeffries. "No middle name. We'll finish lunch and be there this afternoon. Uh, I don't know; just a moment."     He asked, "How long will it take us to reach Lucerne?"     I said, "We can be there by one. That'll give his people time for lunch."     Jeffries wrapped up the call and put his phone away. Zap and done. Steph was about to become a multi-millionaire in an afternoon. She seemed unimpressed by it all, as did Susanne, but Jeffries was excited enough for all of us.     We walked off lunch by strolling to the Thames River, then Susanne brought the flitter to an alleyway and we boarded. Instead of flying above fifty thousand feet as usual, Susanne held us at a few hundred above the terrain and recorded our trip. She seemed to enjoy slithering the flitter among the mountains of the Alps at barely subsonic speed, but that portion of the voyage made Jeffries rather nervous.     "Don't worry," I said. "There's never been a flitter crash due to malfunction."     "Never?"     "Never. Not once."     He whispered to me, "Is she trying to become the first?"     Susanne giggled and jinked around a peak so closely that the wind of our passing caused a minor avalanche. Descending toward Lake Lucerne, it seemed to me that something wasn't right. I looked for the covered wooden bridge where my first wife and I had fed swans in 1971 and saw only the concrete and stone pilings where it had been.     I pulled my briefcase down while Jeffries' attention was occupied and retrieved my passport, then let the case go back to its usual overhead parking spot.     Jeffries called Harold to let him know we'd arrived and Harold stepped out of the CreditSuisse Bank to look for us. When we were within six feet of him Susanne turned the forward fields transparent and he was able to see us. I thought he'd faint.     A man who'd been standing some distance away from Harold instantly drew a pistol and spoke into a collar microphone. Two more guards appeared instantly. Harold turned to face them and raised his hands placatingly as he spoke to calm them, then Harold and the first guard stepped aboard the flitter.     The guard made a hasty report and Harold said a few words, then there was a round of greetings and introductions. After a look at the gold on the flitter deck, Harold directed us to the underground garage, where an armored truck awaited the gold.     Between the flitter and the truck was a folding table at which sat two men with test kits, large and small scales, laptop computers, and a rather expensive-looking camera. The gold was carefully tested, weighed, and photographed, and all but a very small amount of the encrusted gold was field-cleaned as it was transferred to the truck.     "You do not wish to sell this gold, as well?" asked Massmer, indicating the remainder of the encrusted treasure.     "No, thank you," said Steph. "There are only 15,191 ounces of gold for sale at this time. The rest will go to museums."     Her inclusion of the word 'only' made Jeffries laugh, then he had to explain the laugh to Harold. With a nod, humorless Harold returned to his calculations, then went over the results once before announcing that the gold was worth $5,535,904.20. After some more tapping, he added, "We would also like to make an offer on your silver."     "I'm sorry, but the silver is also reserved," said Steph, "But I would very much appreciate having it appraised and documented for tax purposes."     Harold bowed and said, "Of course, madam. We would be delighted."     By two-thirty the gold was in the truck, the deal had been completed, the flitter had been sent to hover above the bank, and we retired to a fourth-floor office to handle the paperwork, during which Steph used her certified check to open an account with the bank.     After consulting with the account manager Steph devised a unique signature code to be used for all future transactions. The bank seemed to have no problem at all with either her Citizen of the World passport or the fact that she was an AI.     Jeffries, Massmer, and a woman bank officer disappeared into her office for some five minutes or so as Steph set up her new account. When they returned, the bank officer's secretary offered us refreshments from a well-stocked bar.     I suggested that all six of the key personnel involved in the transactions take a quick flitter ride around the city and only one begged off claiming other responsibilities to take care of before day's end. Jeffries also opted to stay and talk with someone, probably about his finder's fee.     As we passed above where the covered bridge had been I asked about it and was apologetically told that an arsonist had destroyed it, but that people were raising funds to rebuild it.     When we returned to the bank, I deposited fifty Euros into the fund in my first wife's name. She'd loved that bridge and would undoubtedly enjoy receiving a picture-postcard thank-you note from the fund's agency.     By three we were on our way back to Britain. I called Krista at Citizens of the World to arrange an afternoon visit. She said she'd call Andrew -- her father -- and make dinner arrangements at a nearby restaurant.     Five hours of sleep en route to Britain hadn't been enough; I excused myself and napped for the rest of the flight. When Sue woke me we were about two minutes from London. I stretched and looked to see if there was any coffee left in my mug.     Yup, but not much. I warmed it up, swept a little moisture from the air to thin it a bit, and sipped it as I quelled my not-enough-sleep jitters.     We dropped Jeffries off at his building, then headed for Krista's office. The street in front of Krista's building was too busy, so Susanne dropped us off in the alleyway behind the building and Steph materialized in the lobby to let Krista know that we were out back.     After introductions and greetings, Krista and her secretary Marlene pulled extra chairs into her office and offered everyone tea. I opted for a visit to the washroom, where I made myself a fresh cup of coffee, then returned to the group.     Steph and I generally outlined the AI-run clinic idea and Krista seemed to take a cautious view of it at first, but we assured her that we would prove the capabilities of AI doctors well before the effort began.     "All right," she said, "Setting that issue aside, it would seem to be a marvelous plan and one that we could integrate into our own refugee efforts with little difficulty."     "There's something else," I said, "Steph's invented a gadget called a Personal Field Manipulator. PFM for short. It has certain features we think should be available to everyone and we'd like to distribute them through the clinics."     Krista immediately went on guard and asked, "So this is to be tied into a commercial venture?"     "Don't panic yet," I said. "The PFM units distributed through the clinics would be free or damned cheap. Tax write-offs. Let Steph give you the info and show you some of what the PFM's can do first."     My words in no way dispelled Krista's look of suspicion. I stood up and walked to the center of the high-ceilinged room, then said, "Glider on green."     My kite popped into being and Krista's mouth fell open, as did her secretary's. They and Andrew rose to come touch the glider and examine it more closely.     "Now would you be interested in seeing the rest of the show?" I asked. "How about a personal field that would stop or turn a knife or bullet and stop chemical and biological agents?"     Andrew gazed hard at me for a moment.     "That's a lot to believe, Ed."     Nodding, I said, "Yeah, I know it is. Five suit on."     Once my field was in place, I used my open hand to push flat a paper spindle on the secretary's desk. The point of the metal staff pushed hard against my field, but the spike abruptly bent in the middle and the point was pushed downward.     "Well, I'll be goddamned," said Andrew quietly.     Krista smacked his arm and said, "You will if you keep saying that, dad."     Her comment made me slightly nervous. Religious beliefs could keep her from cooperating when she found out about the contraceptive feature of the protective field. I glanced at Steph, but she didn't seem to understand why. Oh, well. Finish the pitch first.     After watching Steph's screen-displayed "footage" of the p-field standing against gunfire, chemicals, and fire, Krista and her father seemed well convinced. It was then that Steph dropped the other shoe.     Steph explained why we thought the protective fields shouldn't be available until most people everywhere had a PFM, then explained how the protective field function would be conferred by satellite transmission.     After a short pause, she told Krista about the contraceptive properties of the p-field and the reason for it. Krista's left eyebrow went up and she eyed first Steph, then me.     "You're serious? This... PFM thing can function as a contraceptive?"     I said, "We thought you might have a problem with that, so we left it for last."     Andrew laughed and said, "A problem? Hardly. The birthrate is the reason for most of the problems of the world." He laughed again and said, "Especially the parts of the world that most of our clients come from."     "Dad," said Krista, "A lot of people aren't going to accept this little caveat."     Andrew looked at his daughter, "'Little caveat?' You haven't been there, daughter; to the world they come from, that is. You've only seen those who make it to our door, and those tiny few are the hardiest, smartest, and luckiest of the whole damned lot of them. They're killed in wholesale lots by disease, starvation, and mistreatment. Two begets ten in their world because that's the only way they can count on having help around the farm or someone to care for them when they're ill or injured. Many live only forty or possibly even fifty miserable years and leave nothing for their offspring but more of the same."     He turned to me and said, "You're saying that there'll come a day when anyone who wears one of those things will be invulnerable to all but the worst possible weapons. You're saying that everyone who wants one will have one. Is that the absolute truth of it, Ed? Upon your honor, is that what you know to be the truth?"     "Yup," I said. "To put it plainly, Andrew, Steph's not screwing around. She's going to do this, one way or another. CW can be in or out, but it will get done."     Andrew nodded and turned to face Krista as he said, "Only the fools will turn down PFM's, daughter. Only the fools will choose to perpetuate lives of grinding poverty, filth, and danger, and such people should be allowed to do so until all the goddamned fools of the world are bloody well extinct."     As Krista stared at him in mild shock, he said, "Every so often some would-be messiah promises to end mankind's suffering. Every damned one of them has been a failure or a charlatan. Even the sincere ones were often opposed by the very people they were trying to help. For the first time there's a real chance to improve the lot of humanity, daughter; to give it a future other than simply more of the bloody same."     He turned to Steph, stuck his hand out, and said, "I have to be part of this."     Steph shook his hand as they grinned at each other, then he turned to me and shook my hand as he said, "By God, life just became really interesting again."     Krista waited until his celebratory moment died down a bit, then said, "Excuse us for a few moments, please," and took his arm to try to pull him toward the door.     Andrew resisted her briefly, then looked at us as if to say 'I'd better humor her' and allowed her to lead him to the outer office. Marlene rose as if to follow them, then seemed to think better of it and stopped as she neared the door.     For all her apparent desire for privacy, Krista seemed unable to keep her voice from becoming sharply audible.     "...and I'm telling you, dad -- yes, as usual, and as necessary, also as usual -- that something doesn't sound right about this. Why does she anticipate difficulty with the authorities? I'll tell you why; there's something hinky about the whole thing!"     "After all the times we've had to circumvent some demented, syphilitic dictator in one of those piss-pot countries...? Daughter, you know who runs the world. Hell, you've had six years of university; you probably even have a pet bloody theory about why the bastards want to run the world, and I'll bet it isn't very flattering. In fact, as I recall, you've always been quite the anti-authority activist. How many times have I bonded you out of some damned jail? That was the biggest reason you wanted this position. What happened, daughter? When did you change sides?"     Krista's tone was icy. "You know I haven't! Why won't you listen to me?"     "Because you're not giving me reasons, daughter; only blind suspicion. Why? Because he used to be a mercenary?" Andrew laughed. "Don't forget, Krista, so was I! At least he was a medic; something other -- or more -- than just another war dog. Your own dear father can't claim even that distinction. I was there simply for the money."     "Really?" she returned acidly, "Is that why you got yourself shot up while single-handedly trying to save two native families from being slaughtered? They paid you? How, may I ask?" Her voice rose dramatically as she yelled, "With what? Bloody beads and trinkets?!"     I rapped my knuckles on the desk and yelled, "Hey! You two wanna hold it down out there? That's supposed to be a private conversation!"     Krista stormed back into her office and yelled, "You bloody well shut up, yank! You and your artificial girlfriend have my father ready to go on another bloody damned crusade!"     Looking past her at Andrew, I asked, "Another one?"     He shrugged and grinned as he said, "The first one -- or rather, the first one she knew about -- set up Citizens of the World. She remembers it as a rather uphill effort."     Krista whirled and yelled, "It was a bloody uphill effort, dad! One that nearly saw you killed half a dozen times!"     Andrew walked into the room and sat down. "Only nearly, daughter. Only nearly. It needed to be done. It still needs done, and if you didn't believe that, you wouldn't come here to sit at that desk every day."     Sighing, he said to us, "There have been death threats and two attempted bombings of these offices, but she seems to think it's perfectly all right for her to be here. If only she would deign to allow her poor, aging father as much self-direction in his life." Shaking his head, he said in a confidential tone, "She's afraid I might be hurt, I think."     Raging at his teasing, Krista's voice rose again as she said, "You were gone most of the time until I was twenty-two, dad. Now and then a friendly man my mother identified as my father would show up at the flat for a week or two. He sent me odd things from odd places and he wrote to me occasionally, but I didn't know him well enough to know what to write back to him." She spun and pointed at me, saying, "And then you brought him back to us in bloody tatters!"     I shrugged. "Well, sorry 'bout that, lady. I wasn't the one who tattered him."     Turning to Andrew, I said, "I'll bet that little incident taught you to wear old clothes when you sally forth to fight for truth and justice, didn't it?"     Andrew laughed and started to say something, but Krista fairly screamed, "Don't you dare make light of this! My father nearly died out there!"     "Krista, sit down and belt up!" Andrew said sharply. "He's the only goddamned reason I didn't die out there, and I won't stand for you ranting at him like a goddamned harpy. One more word from you and we'll find out if I can still put you over my knee!"     He was on his feet and close enough to be nearly nose to nose with her when she whipped around to face him. Krista stepped back a pace as he spoke and her butt bumped her desk, which allowed her to retreat no farther.     Steph stood up and quietly said, "I'd like to say something, please."     After a moment more of meeting his daughter's glare Andrew said, "Krista. You will be quiet while Stephanie speaks. Stephanie, you have the floor."     "Thank you, Andrew. Krista, sales of the PFM's will fund the AI-run free clinics. If you would have the clinics, you must accept the distribution of PFM's and their later contraceptive feature. We cannot allow the current practice of unconstrained breeding if we largely eliminate the usual causes of death. At the very least we could expect worldwide famine and war within two generations."     Having finished speaking, Stephanie sat down. Krista looked around the room for a moment and something seemed to dawn on her.     "I think we've had a misunderstanding," she said. "I don't object to contraception; I was simply pointing out that many people will reject PFM's, whatever the benefits. I was upset -- and still am -- because my father is putting himself in harm's way again."     Andrew asked, "And you wouldn't be putting yourself in the same danger?"     Krista snapped a glare at him.     "I don't see a problem," I said. "All personnel involved will have the protective fields engaged from the outset, right Steph?"     Steph looked askance at me and said, "Ed, my plan calls for all PFM's to be enhanced at once."     Shrugging, I said, "So change the plan. A lot of places are run by people who'd prefer things to remain just as they are or to get even worse. Most of Central Africa and Central America. India, Iraq, Iran, Pakistan, and all the other '-istans'. They'll make enthusiastic noises in public, but anyone who threatens their control over their people will have disastrous problems. Those involved with the clinics and PFM's will be in danger from day one in more than half of the nations of the world."     Marlene raised a hand and said, "I'm afraid I don't quite understand how PFM's and free clinics will threaten anyone's control over their people."     Stephanie answered her first.     "In some countries medicine and medical facilities are provided only through government-controlled systems. PFM's would greatly reduce peoples' dependence on those systems."     Andrew added, "And let's not forget those places where it's rule by intimidation; simple brutalities such as chopping off body parts as an example to others. I've seen villages in Somalia and other African countries where every fourth person was missing fingers, feet, or hands, and it hasn't always been clear whether the choppers were with the government or the local warlords. PFM's could end some of that."     Maybe a whole ten seconds passed before Krista asked, "Ed, what role will you play in Stephanie's plans?"     I'd been sipping my coffee and had to think only a moment before answering, "A damned small one, if any. I'll demo my kite and play show and tell in the western countries, but there's no way in hell I'm going back to Africa or the Middle East. Fact is, except for maybe Australia and New Zealand, I can't think of any good reasons for me to go south of the equator again anywhere in the world."     That statement earned me quizzical looks from Steph and Marlene. Andrew was pouring tea and didn't look up.     Krista fixed me with a narrow gaze and asked, "Do you feel that way because most of the people south of the equator aren't white?"     Shaking my head with a sigh, I said, "No, Krista, it isn't because they're varying shades of brown. It's because they live in places I never want to see again. Have you ever been to Africa? To South America?"     "No, I haven't."     "Then treat yourself to a few months anywhere in those regions and you'll see why I'm not interested. They're mostly cesspools of disease, violence, and governmental tyranny. Bloody tribal warfare is an almost daily occurrence and some Africans still capture and sell each other to the Sudanese as slaves. Semi-official rumors have it that some of the African nations have been experimenting in other African nations with bioweapons, and all that means is that nobody can prove anything yet or that nobody wants to, 'cause then they'd have to do something about it. Fact is, I don't think there'll be any real peace in Africa as long as there are Africans in it and the whole damned continent can sink for all I care. Let someone else introduce them to PFM's." Chapter Fifty-Four     After a moment of the kind of silence you hear after someone farts during a funeral service, Krista said, "Well, that was enlightening."     Andrew chuckled again.     "You'll find that many people feel that way about Africa, including many of the native Africans."     Giving him the fisheye look, Krista said, "This discussion is over for the moment. Let's go to dinner," and grabbed her purse and keys.     Stopping before Stephanie, Krista said, "I'd like to speak with you later, Stephanie. Without Ed or Andrew present, please, if that's possible," then she turned to glance at me as if to see how I'd take it.     I shrugged and said, "She doesn't report to me anymore. Go for it."     Looking at me, Stephanie said, "I'm at your convenience, Krista."     "Fine, then," said Krista. "After dinner?"     "That would be fine."     With a glance at Krista, then at me, Andrew got to his feet. Marlena stood up and picked up her purse, then went to her desk and took something out of a drawer. Krista set forth at a march pace and ushered us all out to the street, then locked the door.     Marlena and Andrew seemed rather alert, so I took a look around, too. Susanne spoke through my implant to tell me that she detected nothing amiss in the vicinity. I nodded slightly in acknowledgement.     Again at a march pace, Krista led the way down the sidewalk. I sent a tendril out to slap a metal sign near her and she jumped sharply, then stopped to look around. We caught up and gathered her into our group as we passed the spot.     The restaurant was a surf 'n turf place that had its own stairwell entrance. Andrew said it occupied most of the second floor and the food was passable. Krista corrected him by saying that the food was excellent. Andrew reiterated that the food was only passable. When Krista looked to Marlena for backup, Marlena demurred.     "Don't pull me into this. I only eat here when someone else pays." She glanced at me and added, "It's kind of pricey."     It was also packed. People were lined up all the way to the head of the stairs.     "Are you dead set on eating here?" I asked. "It'll be an hour before we see any food, Krista. What about that place down the street?"     "Indeed," said Andrew. "I'm not keen on this crowd either."     "We have guests," said Krista, "And the only other restaurant nearby is going to be equally crowded. Have patience."     When the line didn't move for more than ten minutes, Andrew said, "Screw patience. Ed, how about fish and chips?"     With a shrug I said, "Suits me. Food. Now."     Marlena bit her lip as she glanced from us to Krista, but she sided with us.     "Me, too," she said. "Food now."     "Krista?" asked Andrew.     She gave him a withering look that abated not a whit as she turned it on me, then she looked at Steph and Susanne.     "We don't eat," said Steph.     Krista capitulated with an exasperated sigh. "Oh, well, yes, fine, certainly. Oh, by all means, let's go stand in the street with our dinners."     "We do have keys to the office," said Marlena. "We wouldn't necessarily have to stand in the street, you know."     "You could dine aboard the flitter," said Susanne.     Andrew brightened considerably and grinned at her. "You're on, milady. That's a fine idea!"     And so it was. Krista again led the way -- apparently from long habit -- and we went cattycornered across the street to a storefront vendor's window for fish and chips, then walked to the mouth of the alley to board the flitter.     The subject of PFM's inevitably came up and again Steph went over various infos and possibilities concerning uses and distribution. It became apparent that Krista still had a few misgivings about the program, and because she did, so did Marlena.     I finally tossed my hands up and took my beer to the back of the flitter.     "You ladies work it out," I said. "I've had enough."     Krista said, "I simply don't like committing to something without feeling completely proper about it, Ed."     "Yeah, fine. Like I said, work it out. I'm taking a break."     After some moments the discussion began again. Not long after that I heard someone reach in the cooler, then Andrew came to stand beside me. For quite a while we shared the view of the city below without speaking.     My beer was half gone before he said, "Krista simply likes to be well informed, Ed."     I chuckled and said, "Oh, yeah, I can see that, Andrew. Can we expect a decision by the end of this decade?"     He also chuckled, then said, "I think she's at least tentatively decided to join Stephanie's endeavor. She's just rehashing matters to reinforce her decision."     Looking directly at him, I said, "Andrew, it's almost midnight. She's been rehashing for more than three hours. Surely she'd have found any stoppers by now."     With a snort of laughter Andrew said, "She's very thorough." He sipped his beer, then added, "You realize this plan represents nothing less than a form of benevolent world domination, don't you?"     Shrugging, I said, "Management, Andrew. Just management. Reproduction regulation by default and an end to some of the ills that have always plagued humanity. It's a plan that may even work to some degree."     He turned a surprised eye at me. "You don't sound very convinced."     "I'm not. People will always find ways to fuck things up."     "Then why are you going along with it?"     "It's the best plan for peace on Earth that anyone's ever come up with and Steph's my friend, so I'm helping her. You know how that is, Andrew."     Nodding, he said, "Yes. Yes, I do."     Nearly a mile in the air and cruising above London's East End, we saw smoke rising from a building below and to our right.     As we lowered for a closer view I looked at Susanne and asked, "How bad is it?"     She tapped into the police and fire frequencies and we listened. The fire department had all but four men and two women out of the building. The people were on the roof awaiting an extension ladder that was being aimed at them from the street.     "The fire is about to..." Susanne didn't finish her statement.     The fire burst outward as a gas line exploded, blowing several large windows out of their frames. One of the big plate-glass windows sailed like a square Frisbee to collide with the ladder, knocking it askew and buckling the ladder's second extension in an explosive shower of shattered glass.     Cables flapped and the upper third of the ladder slammed hard on the ground, then swung toward some parked cars and the end of the ladder skipped off the ground again before embedding itself in the side of one of the cars.     Another ladder truck was trying to squeeze through a car-lined narrow street. It soon gave up and reversed course to try another approach. As we drew closer we could see that each of the women was holding a cat and that one held a leash to which was attached a small dog.     The dog was insanely struggling against its leash and collar and one of the cats had climbed to a woman's shoulder, where she tried to keep it from jumping away. The other cat simply hunkered in terror in its owner's arms.     The climbing cat freaked when fire blew upward through the roof some yards from the little group. It struggled free and ran to the edge of the roof, then stood staring as if trying to decide if the fall was survivable.     "Glider on," I said, and took a running leap off the deck.     Andrew shouted and one of the ladies screamed as I dove through the air toward the building. The scream abated and finally stopped.     A billow of flame and smoke ahead made me remember to say, "Five suit on."     The cat saw me coming and started to freak some more, if such were possible. I sent a burst of theta waves at it and it nearly toppled in relaxation before I grabbed it in passing with my right hand and shoved the guidebar forward and up with my left.     One of the women stood staring at me and the other started toward me as I flared to a stop and dropped to the roof. I handed her the limp cat, turned off my glider, and kept the theta waves flowing as I quickly "helped" her out of her sweater and used it to bundle the cat.     The other woman's dog attacked my leg but couldn't bite through my five suit. She pulled the dog back, but then it began gnawing alternately on her leg and the legs of one of the men who had the misfortune to be standing too close.     I used my stun wand to put the dog to sleep, but that meant not concentrating on the cat for a moment. It woke up and went nuts, so I lightly stunned it, too.     "Sue," I said, "Where's the safest place to stand up here?"     "What?" asked the woman. "My name isn't Sue."     Through my implant Sue said, "Six feet to your right, Ed. There's a steel beam under that spot. I'm about to take the woman with the dog."     The woman, her dog, and the cat suddenly went limp without falling and lifted from the roof. They floated in a cluster over the edge and a safe distance beyond the roof before beginning to descend to the parking lot.     The four men and the other woman couldn't see the flitter, so they had no idea what was happening. Staring wide-eyed at her friends as they floated away, the woman next to me whispered, "Oh, dear God..!" and turned to stare at me as she backed away. One of the men took her by her shoulders to keep her from backing mindlessly toward a patch of roof that was smoldering.     The cat she was holding got an arm loose and raked her shoulder as it tried to free itself. I said a mental 'oh, hell,' and stunned them both before the woman could back any farther and the cat could break free. The woman's knees gave out and the man holding her helped her collapse gently.     He looked up at me and then at the other three men, who were clustered near an air conditioning unit. Good enough; there had to be something solid under something that heavy.     "Who are you?" he asked. "How..?"     Rather than answer, I stunned him slightly. He stopped speaking and almost fell over. A few seconds later the man, woman, and cat began to float toward the parking lot. Some of the roof collapsed on both sides of the beam near the middle of the roof. Fire reached upward through the holes and the men snuggled closer to the massive air conditioner.     Tar began to bubble near their feet and one of the men moaned in fear. I sent a cold field deep into the area, but the air conditioner began to sag on one side. Another zap of freezing cold seemed to stabilize matters for the moment.     "Sue, the roof's about to go, I think. Check the air-conditioner."     "I see it," she said calmly. "Stand by."     All three men suddenly lifted from the roof and began drifting to the parking lot. One of the men screamed and struggled vainly, then went limp and silent. Another of the men simply stared at me until they were below the roof and out of sight.     I looked over the edges of the roof. Down in the small parking lot people were gathering around the first women Sue had lowered. There was nowhere to land without hitting someone. Trees blocked my path in two other directions and the streets were full of trucks and people. Shit. Nowhere to go.     The beam sagged under me, then sagged again. The air conditioner's mounts groaned, then it sagged and fell as the biggest hole yet opened up underneath it. The heat wasn't a problem for my five suit, but when the rest of the roof collapsed, landing in the rubble below would undoubtedly be a bitch of an experience.     Smoke and flame billowed swiftly upward from the huge hole in the roof and I had a thought as Sue airlifted the last three people off the roof.     I dove across the hole and said, "Parasail on."     Again someone aboard the flitter shrieked as the upwelling blast of heat and flames quickly lifted me a good seventy-five feet or so and I struggled to stay inside the roiling pillar of hot smoke. Somewhere above a hundred feet I said "glider on" and felt my wings snap into being.     Sliding out of the smoke column, I banked sharply to aim myself at an area well beyond the cluster of people and vehicles below.     Sue's current load of people was nearly on the ground as I said, "Sue, I don't really want to try to land down there."     "Patience, please," she said, then a field tendril immobilized me in mid-flight and lowered me toward the flitter I couldn't see until I was within the flitter's field.     "Glider off," I said as my feet touched the deck. "Five suit off. Thank you, milady."     "You're welcome!" she said brightly, "That was an interesting solution concerning the cat, Ed."     Andrew raised an eyebrow at me and said, "Yes, actually, it was." He glanced at Sue, then Steph, then at me again and shook his head slightly as he said, "It was all quite a show. Quite a show, indeed."     Krista looked shaken and trembling as she stared at me. Marlena simply stared at me silently for another long moment, then opened the cooler and took out a beer. She twisted the cap off and appeared to drink nearly half of it before nudging Krista with the bottle.     I reached into the cooler for a beer as Krista stared at the one being waved under her nose, then shook her head.     "No. Thanks," she said, rising determinedly from the seat she'd taken at some point during the event.     She approached me to within a yard or so, stared hard at me for some moments, and then turned to stare at Andrew in apparent disbelief.     In an ominous tone she asked, "He could have been killed and you call it 'quite a show'? Quite-a-show?!"     "Must you criticize every little thing I say?" he asked, then he stepped toward me with his right hand out. I put a beer in his hand.     Andrew quickly took it with his other hand and again stuck his right hand out to reach for mine, which he shook as he grinningly stated, "Women don't understand these things, you know. Yes, by God. That was quite a show."     He then opened my beer, then his, and clinked his bottle against mine.     "Fuck Idi Amin," he said firmly.     "Fuck Idi Amin," I echoed with a nod.     We then guzzled beer for a few moments as we watched activities below.     I heard Marlena ask, "Who's Idi Amin?"     Krista said, "He was the dictator of Uganda when they were in Africa."     Andrew belched and took a deep breath, then said, "And the fucking Cubans."     "Damned right," I agreed. "Them, too."     We finished our beers. I tossed my bottle over the side and it flashed to plasma. That made Andrew hesitate for a moment in his own bottle toss, but with a quick look at me, he also heaved his bottle to brilliant obliteration.     "Damn," he said quietly. "I take it your lady doesn't allow littering?"     With a nod, I said, "Yeah, that's one of milady's pet peeves."     Marlena chuckled, then giggled, then laughed out loud. Krista looked at her as if she were nuts, which made Marlena laugh again.     Krista looked at us and asked, "Idi Amin and Cubans? What was all that about?"     "Back in Angola," said Andrew, "Amin supplied raiders. The Cubans supplied advisors and weapons. That's how we used to toast the bastards at happy hour."     Marlena finished her beer and looked at Sue, who nodded, then Marlena also tossed her bottle over the side to its fiery doom and sat blinking away the afterimage.     Sniffing and shaking her head, Krista muttered, "Bloody juveniles."     Turning to Sue, Andrew asked, "What are they saying about what just happened?"     Sue channeled fire and police radio traffic. We listened to someone agitatedly tell someone else that he wouldn't sign his name to such a report.     "I don't bloody care if it really happened," he said. "We don't officially know how they got down and we'll let someone else ask them. You and your unit can report anydamnedthing you want, but don't expect me -- or my team -- to corroborate a story about flying people. That simply won't happen, Jarvis."     He clicked off as Jarvis uselessly bellowed, "But it's the bloody truth! Kramer! KRAMER! Damn!" before he clicked off, too.     Andrew thought their consternation was hilarious. Krista simply shook her head and looked at him as if he were an idiot. A few moments later we landed in the alley behind her office and began saying our goodbyes; all except Stephanie, who said she'd catch up with us after speaking with Krista.     "You can't stay for a day or two?" asked Andrew.     "Not this trip," I said. "We have some things to do Stateside. Besides, we didn't go through customs. They'd be pissed if we got caught here. How about next month? We can spend a few days acting like tourists."     "Excellent. Just let me know when."     Andrew and Marlena waved as Sue and I began lifting out of the alley. Krista and Stephanie simply stood watching us rise. Once we'd lifted about fifteen feet those on the ground were no longer within range of the flitter's field effect, so to them we seemed to vanish. All but Steph registered varying degrees of startlement.     Keying my implant I said, "Steph."     "Yes, Ed."     "Thanks for not helping at the fire. Krista may have fewer doubts about PFMs now that she's seen a practical demonstration."     "It seemed likely that you and Susanne could handle matters. Krista was quite frightened when you leaped off the flitter, Ed."     "That just means that we made an impression that'll stick with her, Steph. Don't be afraid to startle people now and then. It keeps them alert."     Precisely two seconds passed before she answered; it was a trick Steph had learned from Linda, I think, to show a lack of complete approval.     "I'll be along in a while, Ed."     "Take your time, Steph. I'll probably nap on the way back."     Turning to Susanne, I said, "See if you can find an open currency exchange, please. I want to turn some Euros into dollars."     The flitter changed course slightly as Sue nodded. A few moments later we descended to the street in front of a brownstone building that was surrounded by shops and restaurants.     "The exchange window is just inside and to the left," said Sue.     Eyeing the almost three blocks of restaurants and trinket shops, I said, "This area looks like a major tourist trap."     "It is," said Sue, "But the currency exchange is open late. Would you rather use the exchange at the train station?"     I shrugged. "No, this'll do. Maybe they'll surprise me with a good rate."     Sue waited for some people to pass on the walkway below, then settled the flitter to the sidewalk very near the building. I hopped off and entered the building while still within her field effect, so none of the people outside saw me appear.     They didn't surprise me; their exchange rate was kind of steep, but not truly outrageous. When I walked back to the entrance alcove, I keyed my implant and said, "All done, milady."     "I can't land, Ed. There are too many people in your area. Step outside and I'll lift you aboard."     As I walked out to the sidewalk I said, "Sounds good. Three suit on."     Sue lifted me from the sidewalk just as an approaching woman's poodle stiffened and apparently stared straight at me, then began barking insanely. Did he see me? Smell me? Hear me? Whatever. The woman looked where the dog was looking and saw nothing. She must have thought her dog had gone bonkers. I lifted my feet as she walked under me, yanking the still-ranting poodle along.     Once I was aboard, I said, "Other than politicians and various other criminals, there's probably no greater waste of skin and hair than a yappy, crappy little dog."     Sue giggled and suggested that my opinion might be biased. I agreed that it probably was, given that I held even the least of cats to be generally superior to dogs. Chapter Fifty-Five     Sue lifted us westward. The lights of London faded behind us as the lights of Plymouth became visible ahead of us, then plots of light that were some of the other major cities of southern Britain appeared. I opened a beer and put my feet up as we passed through layers of clouds and the stars became visible above.     "Forty-four hundred miles or so to go," I said, glancing at my watch. "Miz Helmsperson, use an initial heading of about 280 degrees and hammer down, please."     That earned me a querying glance.     "Our initial heading will be 281.4 degrees. How did you know that?"     With a grin, I asked, "You mean 'how did a mere human know,' don't you?"     Faking a sigh, Sue sounded exasperated as she said, "Yes, I suppose so. Sorry."     "Would you believe I have an innate sense of direction?"     "Possibly, but not one that expresses itself in numeric compass degrees."     I grinned as I pointed dead west and said, "That's two-seventy, exactly."     Sue gave me a narrow, studious gaze. Pointing beyond the nose of the flitter, I said, "And that's the difference; just about ten degrees."     Her gaze became positively examining.     "Can't figure out how I knew, huh?" I asked with a grin. "Good."     "Tell me how you knew our heading, Ed."     "Nope. Gotta have a few secrets, milady."     I let my eyes leave hers and fall to her legs.     Sue's skirt drew itself upward an inch or so along her thighs as she said, "Tell me, Ed."     "Nope."     The skirt rose slowly another inch.     "Tell me, Ed."     "Nope. You can shorten that skirt all you want, milady. I may start to drool, but I can keep a secret."     She laughed and stood up, then her dress disappeared briefly and reappeared. An afterimage of her splendid nakedness remained for a moment.     I said quietly, accusingly, "Oh, hey, now; that's not fair at all, Sue."     Grinning, she said, "Tell me, Ed," and flashed her dress off again.     "Yeah, well, it isn't really that big a secret, I guess..."     This time her dress remained missing for a full second.     "Tell me, Ed."     Shrugging, I said, "Well, I guess it doesn't really have to be a secret at all. I looked at my watch. Matched it with the stars."     Sue came to stand a yard or so in front of me flashed her dress off for another few seconds, then said, "Thank you," then sat down in the pilot's seat.     "Whoo. Thank you, milady. You're spectacular."     "By design," she said. "Ed, you knew I could rescue that cat and everyone else on that roof. You also knew that there was an element of risk in going over there. Why did you feel a need to do so?"     Giving her a small grin, I said, "You've seen my files, so I'm kind of wondering why you're asking me that."     "Your files list incidents, not motivations. I'd prefer not to surmise about them."     Sipping my beer for a moment, I said, "I've never been too clear about some of my motivations, either. I had the means and it seemed like a good idea at the time."     With a little grin of her own, Sue said, "Insufficient data."     "Huh. My last driver wasn't this nosy."     "Yes, she was."     "You said you didn't have access to all of her memories. How would you know?"     Sue stood and put her hands behind her back, then stepped to stand in front of me as if at parade rest as she said, "I don't have access to all of Steph's memories, but I have enough to know that she quite often asked you why you did things."     My eyes traveled from her ankles up her lovely legs, then farther up to meet her eyes before I asked, "The answers weren't in there? You can't figure it out?"     "As I said, I'd prefer not to surmise."     She smiled again as she said, "Your readings elevated very significantly when I walked over here, Ed. I like having that effect on you."     "Well, try not to abuse your power, ma'am. I'm almost totally susceptible to women like you, you know."     Sue grinned and took a half-step closer to me as she said, "Only 'almost'?"     I drank some more beer and eyeballed her shamelessly for a few moments before speaking.     "Sue, I knew that you could easily rescue everybody, pets included, but I wanted to give Krista a fairly dramatic demonstration of PFM usage; something that would end any skepticism she may have had about PFM's or Steph's agenda."     She snickered. "I think you may have succeeded. Were there no other reasons?"     "What's making you ask about other reasons, Sue?"     Looking up as if trying to recall details she sighed, "Oh, well, let's see; I guess I was just remembering how your readings spiked when that cat seemed ready to jump off the roof. I had no idea that you could move so quickly, Ed. You were out of your seat and off the flitter in less than two seconds. It almost seemed to me as if you lacked faith that I could handle the situation."     "Uh, huh. You wouldn't be trying to tease me, would you?"     With a small grin she said, "Maybe a little. Would you have reacted that way if Stephanie had been your flitter pilot today?"     Shrugging, I said, "Very probably. It was an impulse, Sue. I like cats, you know."     For a moment she studied me, then she nodded slightly and turned to return to her seat. I marveled at the humanness of her actions, knowing damned well that she'd been reading me as I spoke and that her field image could stand stock-still at attention for a century if she so desired.     "You do that very well," I said.     With a raised eyebrow, she asked, "Could you be more specific?"     "Your 'human' act. You do it very well. I've kind of wondered for some time why you and Steph make such an effort at realism."     Sue shrugged and said, "We're perfectionists."     "You know what I mean. Why bother at all? You could get by with generalized images; something for people to focus on while they talked to you."     She gazed steadily at me for a moment before speaking.     "We AI's will have to live and work among people, Ed. It may not always be so, but that's how things are at present. Stephanie's experiences while developing her public persona show that a convincing human persona can make acceptance and interaction much easier and more comfortable for all concerned."     Nodding, I sipped my beer, then said, "Uh, huh. Well, I suppose so. I don't think it ever mattered to me, though. Steph was Steph to me, even before she came up with her Ingrid Bergman face and that fabulous bod. They're great visuals, but I don't think I've treated her much differently because of them."     Sue shook her head. "No, you haven't seemed to, but you haven't been meeting her for the first time when you interacted with her -- as others might be -- and you haven't been overly concerned with how others might perceive her or respond to her."     The tone of her words seemed to leave something unspoken. I decided to wait a while to see if she'd say any more, sipping my beer again as I looked at her and considered what she might have left unsaid.     The stars above were -- as always at high altitudes -- a glorious display. They were also boring as hell after a while. My nap in the afternoon hadn't been quite enough; I felt myself drifting into sleep and didn't bother to fight it. An argument woke me sometime later.     Steph and Susanne were by the console, glaring at each other. What would those two have to argue about?     Susanne seemed to be standing firm on her side of the issue, whatever it was. Stephanie stiffened, glaringly glanced at me with a raised eyebrow, then vanished in a puff of emerald smoke. Smoke? That's a first.     When I looked at Susanne she quickly reached out to slap the lid shut on the console. It occurred to me that the console had never had a lid before, but while I was pondering that, Sue smilingly waved a hand over herself and her dress vanished.     All she was wearing was the gold bracelet. She admired it briefly, then grinned at me. After standing splendidly naked by the console for a moment, apparently quite proud of herself, she then strode over to me. Although only six feet away or so, it seemed to take several strides of her long, lovely legs to reach me.     Stopping maybe two feet from me with her feet slightly apart and her fists on her hips, she asked, "Well?"     "Uh, well, what? You look great. Gorgeous. Beyond gorgeous."     "You don't understand," she said. "Steph said you wouldn't."     "What don't I understand, Sue?"     "Me. How I came to be and why."     I shrugged as I looked her over.     "Wasn't it because I needed another flitter computer?"     "No, Ed, it's because you're you."     "I saw you arguing. Is there a problem?"     "Not anymore. Everything's fine."     "God, you look real!"     Sue suddenly entwined herself around me and kissed me fully. When she ended the kiss, she asked, "Was that real enough for you? Five minutes, Ed."     Opening my eyes, I saw that she was dressed again as I asked, "Huh? Five minutes?"     "Yes," she said, nodding firmly and making no sense whatsoever.     Opening my eyes again, although I thought they'd been open, I asked, "What..?"     As I sat up, the seat back rose with me. The seat? But I'd been standing..? A dream, and a damned vivid one. My nerves were jangling from the too-short nap. I moved to conceal the big lump in my lap, although it seemed pretty likely that it was far too late to hide the damned thing.     I looked at Susanne and remembered her as she'd been in the dream, naked except for the bracelet. That didn't help to dispel the lump, of course, but it was an enjoyable way to wake up some more.     Sue said, "I said, we arrive in five minutes, Ed. Now four and a half minutes. Why are you looking at me like that?"     Shaking my head to clear it, I said, "I was dreaming. For a moment I wasn't sure I was awake. I'm still not sure."     My foot nudged my beer bottle and I grabbed it to keep it from tipping and spilling.     "Good catch. You're awake," said Sue.     "You might say something like that if I wasn't. Prove it."     Chuckling, Sue said, "You're the one with doubts, so you should be the one to prove it."     I tossed the bottle over the side and said, "Um. Good point, but you might say something like that, too, milady. But since you're here, I guess it doesn't really matter a damn whether I'm dreaming or not."     With a brilliant grin Sue put a fingertip to her cheek and lightly said, "Oh, I feel so appreciated, sir."     Nodding, I said, "Good. So you should."     I started to stand up, then realized that the swelling below my belt buckle would become instantly noticeable if I did. Elbows on knees, I rubbed my face and stayed in my seat.     Sue giggled softly and asked, "Who was she?"     Caught. Oh, well.     I sighed, "You noticed, did you?"     With another giggle, she said, "It was rather obvious, Ed."     "Yeah, guess so. You were one of the women in my dream."     Her eyes fell to my jeans, then met my eyes again.     "Well, then, I'm flattered. If you were really dreaming about me, that is, and not some other woman from your past."     "Now you're just fishing, lady. I freely admitted you were in my dream."     There was still some hours-old coffee in my mug. I warmed it, then guzzled it as we dropped through the clouds above Hernando County at what would have been an alarming rate of descent in any other vehicle.     When the flitter stopped, I grabbed my travel kit and hopped to the driveway, then turned to extend a hand to Sue. She looked at my hand, then at me for a moment, then stepped forward.     Taking my hand and stepping down, she said, "I can understand why you might feel a need to steady a human woman, but why do this with me?"     "Would you rather I didn't? If you'd prefer to just pop from place to place..."     "I merely asked why you do it."     I shrugged. "It's what I do, that's all. Do I need a more meaningful reason?"     Sue grinned slightly, then leaned to give me a quick kiss.     "No, you don't need a more meaningful reason."     Across the street a shadow moved in my neighbor's kitchen window. I put my arm around Sue and aimed us at the front door.     "That's not Steve or Lynn," I said quietly. "Too tall."     "I concur. The house is registered to a man who does not match that description, according to records."     "Steve never mentioned having a son. Let's go into the house, then I'll call the cops to check him out. Send a probe over there to keep an eye on him."     "Done. He's in the kitchen, watching us from the corner of the window."     After dropping my travel kit by the door and picking up the kitchen phone without turning on the lights, I had to think about what to tell the sheriff's department.     I settled for, "I saw someone who is neither Steve nor his wife at a window. I'd like you guys to drop by and check him out."     Tiger hopped onto the kitchen counter to see what was going on. I petted him and thumbed at Sue and he walked around the counter toward her.     The deputy asked, "Sir, do you have any reason to believe there's a problem at the Meyer residence? Could they have a houseguest?"     Sue answered Tiger's "Yaaooww?" with one of her own and pointed out the window at the Meyer house.     I said, "I've known Steve since '89 and I've never seen anyone visit overnight except his daughter. Are you sending someone or not?"     Tiger hopped to the windowsill and looked out.     "Sir," said the deputy, "One of our units is on the way and going over there might not be a good idea. Let us handle it."     "Okay, then. Thanks." I hung up before the dispatcher could say anything else and went to join Sue by the kitchen window. "Anything new?" I asked.     "No," said Sue. "He's still watching by the window."     The cops made good time; they probably had someone in the area. A squad car pulled up in front of Steve's house and another one parked on Northcliffe, then a deputy got out of the first car and walked up to the front door.     Sue and I walked outside to stand in plain sight in the driveway as the man we'd seen in the window answered the door. Steve and his wife, Lynn, joined him a moment later. Sue and I ambled across the street as the deputy headed back to his car.     "Thanks," I said to the deputy. "Sorry to drag you out here for nothing."     The deputy gave me an odd, narrow look, then said loudly enough for all to hear, "Oh, no problem, sir. Nothing is often better than something in this line of work. You did the right thing by calling us."     He got in his car as Steve, Lynn, and whosis approached.     Before they could speak, I said, "Sorry about waking everybody. I saw someone in your house and I thought it better to be safe than sorry."     It's hard not to be disgruntled when wakened by a cop at your door, but Steve and Lynn managed civility fairly well, even though they seemed unable to take their eyes off Susanne.     "This is my nephew Kent," said Steve, indicating the tall, fortyish guy, who also seemed to have trouble looking away from Sue, "He's on leave from the Army and he'll be with us for the weekend. Kent, this is my neighbor Ed."     "He's being polite," I said. "I'm sure he meant to say 'my weird neighbor Ed'."     Kent's startled expression told me that was exactly what Steve had told him.     As Kent and I shook hands, Steve asked, "Who's your lovely friend, Ed?"     "This is Susanne, Steve. She's Stephanie's replacement."     Steve extended a hand to Sue, who took it briefly, then shook hands with Lynn and Kent as she said, "Pleased to meet you all."     The greeting was echoed by Lynn and Kent, then Steve asked, "Replacement? Why? Where's Stephanie?"     "She's busy starting her own company."     Lynn shook her head slightly and asked, "Her own company? But Stephanie was a computer, wasn't she?"     Grinning, I said, "She still is, as far as I know."     Kent's gaze narrowed as he peered at Sue, looking her up and down once.     "You expect me to believe that she's a computer?"     Sue smiled and disappeared, then reappeared a few yards to my left. She repeated the process to return to my side.     "Yes, Kent," she said. "We do expect you to believe that."     Lynn and Steve stared briefly at Sue, but then Lynn caught sight of her nephew's stunned expression and couldn't contain a giggle. Chapter Fifty-Six     We chatted for a bit in Steve's driveway, then adjourned. Kent asked if he could get together with me about a few things in the morning. I agreed, but advised him that my morning wasn't likely to begin before nine or ten.     I was wrong. For some reason, I snapped awake at eight-ten, wondering what had jarred me out of sleep. From somewhere down the block came a thundering that I'd heard far too often lately and I looked out the bedroom window to see a red convertible parked in a driveway three houses behind mine.     Half a dozen teenagers were clustered around the car and it was putting out enough bass to make loose coins rattle on my dresser. A guy I knew only by his last name - Elliston - came out of the house and walked down to the car. The noise never diminished a whit as Elliston said something to the kid in the front seat of the red convertible.     The kid gave him the finger, then pulled out of the driveway and moved the car to the swale one house closer to mine. The herd of teenagers followed the car.     I sent a field tendril at the middle of the car's windshield, then alternated heat and cold on a spot a few inches wide. The windshield shattered. I focused the same treatment on the headlight lenses and they, too, cracked and shattered.     A commotion ensued around the car that included some of the kids getting flat on the ground or ducking behind the car. After some moments the driver decided to take a chance.     He got up from behind the car and vaulted over the driver's door, started the car and slammed it into gear, then left two long streaks of burnt rubber as he hauled ass down the street.     A sudden, familiar presence behind me made me say, "Hi, Steph," as I watched the show.     Steph chidingly said, "That really wasn't very nice, Ed."     "It damned sure worked, though, didn't it?"     Sue said, "I still want to know how you knew Steph was there."     In mild surprise I turned to face her and found both Steph and Sue standing in the bedroom doorway. Steph wore one of her usual biz-suit outfits. Sue wore white shorts and a white blouse over a tee-shirt and deck shoes. Trim and tight and everything right. And gorgeous. A portion of me suddenly pointed at her.     "I just did," I said. "Thank you, by the way."     She gave me a quizzical look and asked, "For what?"     I nodded at her legs and said with a grin, "For wearing those shorts. You've greatly improved my mood this morning, ma'am."     Sue giggled and said, "I can see that."     "Interesting that Steph didn't mention that I sleep naked."     Steph smiled and vanished. After another glance at me, so did Sue.     After spiffing up a bit and dressing I headed for the kitchen and found coffee made. Although I don't have a taste for brewed coffee anymore, I poured a cup and took it to the kitchen table. Steph was nowhere in sight. Sue sat down across from me.     No surprise with the brewed coffee; I was used to quick-fix instant and brewed stuff just didn't taste right to me anymore.     I took Sue's hand in mine, raised it to my lips, and said, "Thank you for trying, milady, but please don't make my coffee. I've acquired a taste for the way I make it."     Sue simply shrugged and said, "I made coffee because we're expecting company this morning."     "Good thinking. Kent's in the Army. He'll probably soak up the pot."     Sure enough, when I went out for the paper Kent chose that particular moment to take out the garbage. He "spotted" me and walked across the street for a handshake.     I invited him in and pointed him at the coffee pot and cups as I made my own coffee from instant in my Aladdin travel mug. Sue was nowhere in sight.     He watched me assemble my coffee in silence, but when I finished and moved to the table, his questioning expression made it clear that he was curious.     Sue popped into being in the chair opposite mine and startled the hell out of Kent, who had thankfully put his cup down before she appeared.     "He doesn't like my coffee," said Sue. "He prefers that mud he makes."     Kent simply gaped at her as I said, "Oh, not fair, Sue. I apologized, didn't I?"     She sighed and said, "Yes, I suppose you did. Sort of. Kind of. After a fashion."     "Kent, don't let her hustle you for sympathy. Sue made that pot because she knew you were coming over."     "Huh?" his eyes met mine, then he looked at Sue and managed, "Oh. Uh, thank you, Sue."     Some moments of sipping later, I asked, "How much do you figure the Army's changed since 1970, Kent?"     "Oh, damn. In some ways a lot, I'd think."     Shrugging, I said, "I dunno. They still have officers, enlisteds, helicopters, and guns, right? Can't have changed that much. Some of the hardware and the uniforms, yeah, but I'll bet the Army is still basically the same."     He sipped his coffee with a sidewise glance at Sue, then peered at me for a moment as he said, "Yeah, probably so. 1970, huh? Damn. You've been out for some time, haven't you? You don't look that old."     "Oh, I'm pretty much ancient, Kent. We had horse-drawn helicopters in my outfit."     He chuckled and said, "That's the way I feel sometimes. The only flight time I get these days is what little it takes to keep my wings current. They wouldn't give me that much air time if it wasn't in the regs that they have to. I've been mostly flying a desk for the last five years."     We discussed some of the Army's changes; for example, while the M-60 machine gun was still an issue weapon, it had largely been replaced by the Squad Automatic Weapon - SAW - that was generally issued to three-man teams within units. I didn't tell him that I'd qualified with a SAW in 2001 as part of a personnel update.     Kent begged off talking about some of the infantry's changes because such things weren't within his scope. He also said he was a brigade executive officer en route from a Pentagon duty station to a new assignment at Ft. Bragg, NC, and something in his voice made me ask if being stationed there was somehow a problem for him.     "Maybe," he said. "My ex married an Air Force captain a few years back and he's at Pope AFB. Chances are I'll be running into them, sooner or later. I've considered calling her to let her know I'll be in the neighborhood."     "Hm. I'd make it sooner and get it out of the way. Did you have any kids with her?"     With a shake of his head he said, "No."     "That makes it a lot easier. Maybe she'll fix you up with one of her friends."     "My current girlfriend might not take that very well. She's coming down after I get set up."     "Ah. Well, then, I'd just give the ex a heads-up call and be done with it."     "That's kind of what I figured to do."     After sipping my coffee, I said, "Check it out. I'm handing out advice to a brigade XO, and it's not even advice he hasn't already given himself. You're in your mid-forties, Kent. I figure that makes you at least a light colonel, maybe a bird colonel."     "Bird," said Kent. "And that's about as high as I'll be going, I think. I'm close to having twenty-five years in and I'm in a subcritical MOS, so I doubt they'll waste a star on me."     Sue asked, "Are you thinking of retiring?"     "Yes," said Kent, "I could go for thirty, but my heart just isn't in it anymore. I'd just be going through the motions, I think, and I'm still young enough to pick up something out here. Or start something of my own; something that would get me back in the air."     Looking at Susanne, I keyed my implant and said, "Steph."     "Huh?" asked Kent.     "Yes, Ed," said Steph.     "Got a minute, milady?"     Kent gave me an odd look, then his eyes got real big real fast. The fourth chair at the table, directly across from Kent, abruptly filled with Stephanie.     She wore a skirt-jacket outfit of a subdued shade of emerald green. Kent froze in mid-sip of his coffee, staring hard at her. She smiled at him, then us.     "Steph," I said, "This is bird-Colonel Kent Meyer, nephew of Steve-across-the-street. Kent, this is Stephanie, the lady Susanne replaced."     "Uh..," said Kent, then, "Yes, I... Hello. Ma'am. My uncle has mentioned you."     "Favorably, I hope," said Steph.     "Oh, God, yes, ma'am. Very favorably. And now I see why. You do look like her. Uh, Ingrid Bergman, I mean." He glanced at me and softly said, "Wow."     I nodded. "Wow, indeed, and you don't know the half of it, Kent." Turning to Steph, I asked, "Were you looking for someone about his height and rank to help out in your new company, Steph?"     She chuckled. "Height and rank? I had other criteria in mind, Ed, but since I'm here, I'll listen."     "A military liaison," I said. "Maybe with the police and such, too. He's got enough time and grade to get their attention and he isn't afraid of heights."     Kent asked, "Ed, what are you doing?"     "Thinking out loud," I said. "Gimme a minute."     "She doesn't know anything about me. For that matter, I don't know anything about her company."     "No biggie. It isn't up and running yet, so there's nothing to know. And don't worry that she doesn't know anything about you, because she does."     "Only that I'm an Army colonel and the nephew of one of your neighbors."     I shook my head. "Nope. By now she probably knows whatever's on record anywhere. Steph, do you want to check with Linda about this?"     Steph tapped a fingernail on the table a few times, then asked, "You must have had a reason for asking that. What do you think?"     "I think it'll be your company, Steph. You'll command it, and this is an opportunity to demonstrate that fact to all involved. If you want him, hire him, then run him past Linda for a second opinion."     Glancing at Kent with a grin, I said, "You can always fire him later if he doesn't work out."     We sat talking for a few minutes before the front door opened and a PFM flashed to a landing on the table.     Steph picked it up and handed it to Kent as she said, "You'd be marketing these. I make them."     After a moment's hesitation, Kent took it and asked, "What is it?"     Steph let him take it and study it. "It's called a Personal Portable Field Manipulator, Kent. We've been calling them PFM's."     "That one is a demonstration unit," I said, "If you sign on, you'll keep it and use it to show and tell. If you don't sign on, she'll put it back on the shelf." Turning to Steph, I said, "Anytime you're ready, ma'am."     "Ready? For what?" asked Kent.     "A flitter ride, Kent," I said, "Some of the things that gadget can do shouldn't be done indoors." Waving a hand at the kitchen in general, I added, "Hell, some of 'em can't be done in a room this size."     "Such as..?" he prompted.     "Well, let's see... Are you airborne, Colonel Meyer? It's kind of a big thing at Ft. Bragg, y'know."     He grinned at that and shook his head.     "No. I've had emergency training, but I've never sought out opportunities to jump out of planes unnecessarily."     "Ever do any gliding?"     He chuckled. "I've made a few dead-stick landings in fixed wings and helicopters. Does that qualify?"     "You're still here, so that's probably close enough," I said as I got up to refill my cup, then excused myself for a trip to the bathroom.     Keying my implant on the way, I asked, "Steph, what do you think of all this? He's a short-timer who knows people at the Pentagon."     "I've reviewed his records, Ed. He'll do as a liaison."     "Great. Milady Sue?"     "Present and accounted for. Sir."     "Where did you pick that up?"     "From you, of course. According to the info Steph gave me, you've said it to Linda many times."     "Uh, huh. Okay, just curious. Let's let Kent see the flitter land. Impress him, please. Then we'll take him for a hard, short flitter ride. Try to tear the wings off."     There was a chuckle in her voice as she said, "Okay."     I grabbed my coffee mug in the kitchen and led the way to the front yard. When I looked up, so did Kent. The flitter went from being a shiny speck in the sky to a van-sized object descending rapidly enough to make Kent gulp and take a step back from the driveway.     A huge rush of air rattled branches in the oak tree behind us as the flitter came to a dead stop a foot or so from the concrete.     Handing Steph and Sue aboard in a gentlemanly style, I turned to Kent to ask, "You don't get airsick, do you?"     He'd been eyeing the flitter warily, looking under it and along the flat lines of the deck. His eyes met mine and he straightened somewhat as he grinningly said, "I haven't yet," and stepped aboard.     I chuckled and stepped onto the deck, then nodded to Sue. She smiled and the flitter leapt straight into the air. Kent at first looked around in shock, then saw that nobody else seemed particularly dismayed. Although he didn't seem to relax much, he again straightened himself and watched the ground recede beneath us.     With a grin, I asked, "Sue, how about letting me off at around five miles up?"     Kent glanced at me with a slight grin.     "Should I stop," asked Sue, "Or do you just want to know when we get there?"     Shrugging, I said, "Oh, just let me know, I guess. Five suit on."     Kent had turned away from the view upon hearing my words. I was standing on the other side of the deck from him as he looked at me oddly.     "Five what..?" he started to ask.     "Five miles, Ed," said Sue.     I said, "Thank you, milady," then I set my coffee mug down by one of the seats and tossed Kent a small salute and a smile as I said, "See you later," and dove off the deck backwards. The look of shock on Kent's face was priceless.     When my upward plunge ceased and became a downward plunge, I said, "Parasail on green."     My implant created an emerald canopy above me. Once my downward speed had slowed I switched to kite mode and began a wide, lazy spiral downward.     Keying my implant, I asked, "Sue, how's Kent holding up?"     Sue responded, "He dove to try to catch you, then watched you fall in a state of shock. He's still lying on the deck, watching you and swearing softly. I'll begin aerobatics at ten miles. You left your coffee mug, Ed. Does that mean you'll be coming back aboard, or would you prefer to land?"     "I'll land on your deck if you'll be good enough to put it where I can reach it conveniently."     She laughed. "I could do that, I guess. See you in a few. We're at ten miles, so I'll start the show now."     I looked up to my right and saw nothing, of course, not even a shining speck. Then some tiny motion caught my eye and I watched as the flitter enlarged quickly, seemingly headed straight at me.     It rocketed past me fifty feet away, apparently at barely subsonic speed, and a violent, rolling blast of wind grabbed my kite and shoved it sideways and down, nearly turning it completely over on its back and making it spin hard.     With a little guidance the hang glider quickly stabilized. Yessir, Susanne had a personality vastly different from Steph's... Or did she? Had Steph perhaps always wanted to do something like that?     Kent's voice came through my implant.     "Ed? Susanne says you can hear me and answer through this console. Are you all right?"     "Oh, yeah. I'm fine, Kent. Now I'll have to think of a way to get even with Sue, though."     "I told her she was cutting it too close."     "She knew precisely what she was doing, Kent. Believe it. She could have gone by me about ten feet away without rocking my wings." After a pause I added, "But she didn't, of course. I'll bet they were both giggling about it. Right?"     "Uh... Well, yeah. They were." As if to switch the subject, he said, "Stephanie says the... uh... thing she gave me..."     "PFM," said Stephanie.     "Uh, yeah. The PFM. She told me that mine will make parasails and gliders, too. I've never flown anything even remotely like a hang glider, Ed."     "No sweat. It's easy and you'll have a couple of miles of altitude to get the hang of it. If you're up to it, stick the PFM on your arm and try it."     "Well... I mean, it seems kind of..."     "Oh, hell, just do it, Kent. We didn't come up here to kill a colonel this morning. Think of it as a job interview. Sue, how about pulling alongside me for a few?"     Sue said, "Look behind you, Ed."     I did so. The flitter was again coming at me at a high rate of speed, but this time it slowed and pulled alongside about ten feet away. Kent simply stared at my kite as I sideslipped toward the flitter and hovered above the deck. Sue's field grabbed the kite and anchored me there.     "How about handing me my coffee, Kent?"     "Huh? Oh, uh, okay..." he picked it up and reached to hand it to me.     After a long sip I handed it back to him and asked, "You gonna try kiting today?"     Kent stood holding my coffee mug as he stared up at my wings. After a long few moments he turned to look at Stephanie, who coolly matched his gaze.     Sue said, "I'll stop the flitter, Kent. Just say 'glider on' and step off the deck."     He looked back at me. I grinned and banked hard left to veer away from the flitter. Sue's field released me and I hung to one side of the slow-moving flitter for a few moments, then sideslipped back toward it.     Sue matched my rate of descent, as well, so I was able to swing back into position just above the deck.     "Glider off," I said, and dropped to the deck, then took my coffee mug from Kent.     "That's all there is to it," I said. "Glider on or off. Parasail on or off. Name a color. Sue can catch you if you have any problems in flight or you can switch to the parasail if you want to land dramatically, but watch out for the powerlines down there. How are you getting to Ft. Bragg from here?"     Shaking his head slightly at the change of subjects, Kent said, "Uh... I'll be flying up there from Tampa on Tuesday."     Guzzling the last of my coffee, I put the cup down as I said, "A better idea. We'll deliver you. It's only about fifteen minutes away by flitter and I haven't seen the place for a while."     After a pause, I said, "Kent, Stephanie can't use you if you don't have confidence in the product."     With that I said, "Glider on green," and lifted off the deck. I hovered there for a few moments before I waved and banked away maybe fifty feet.     Kent stared at me, then at Stephanie, and then stared at the PFM in his right hand for a few moments, then he stuck it on his arm. The flitter stopped moving and I had to swing around to keep it in sight.     A green hang glider suddenly appeared above Kent and he seemed to be speaking with Stephanie for a few seconds, then he turned in a careful, awkward fashion, as if the kite actually had weight, and seemed to take a deep breath before running off the deck. He wobbled quite a bit at first, then seemed to get the 'hang' of hang gliding as he leveled and very cautiously tried steering his kite. Chapter Fifty-Seven     Keying my implant, I asked, "Steph, did you tell him about the protective field?"     "No, Ed."     "Did he say anything about me bailing out five miles up?"     "No, Ed. At that particular moment he seemed focused on the fact that you didn't have a parachute. He also rather indelicately questioned your sanity."     Sue giggled. "Yes, he did. Very indelicately. If you'd like a playback..?"     "No, funny lady," I said. "I've probably heard it before, anyway. Let's give him a few minutes of airtime, then head downstairs. Still think he'll do as a liaison?"     "Yes, I think so. Kent didn't simply follow you off the deck, Ed; he carefully verified the PFM commands beforehand."     "Yeah, I saw that. Cautiously daring; that's good. Okay, then. He's here to see his family, so you might want to get with him after Steve and Lynn go to bed or maybe even after he's reported to Ft. Bragg. I'd like to spend some time with Selena and Toni today, so I won't be up here too long this morning. Maybe half an hour or so more."     Sue said, "Speaking of Kent's family, Steve and Lynn are standing in their front yard with a small group of your neighbors, Ed."     "As expected, Sue. Reassuring his aunt and uncle and describing his experience will help him come to a quick decision about all this if he hasn't already."     "Tell me, Ed; is that manipulation or management?"     "I'd prefer to say management, but you can ask Steph for a second opinion."     I got well ahead of Kent some fifteen minutes later and called Sue to request a rendezvous. She slid the flitter under me and I turned off my kite, then waved at Kent, gesturing that he should hold a steady course. He nodded.     Sue maneuvered the flitter under him and he, too, turned off his glider. Kent was flushed and trembling with excitement as we descended toward his uncle's yard.     "Glad you had fun," I said, picking up my coffee mug. "I'm leaving all those people to you, Kent. We have places to go and stuff to do today, so we'll get with you later to make whatever arrangements are needed."     When I gestured toward Steph he looked that direction and I whispered, "Three suit on," and vanished. I walked to the rear of the deck and whispered 'glider on,' then stepped off and slid through the air toward my front yard, where I landed and watched the others for a moment.     Kent hopped off the flitter with a wave and a smile, then the flitter zoomed back into the sky. I walked around the house, let myself in the side garage door, headed for the kitchen, and ignored the flashing LED on my answering machine.     Steph and Sue were already at the kitchen table and Tiger was sitting on the table to allow both of them easy access. He looked at my coffee mug floating toward him and said something.     Sue said, "Tiger would like to know why you're not visible, Ed."     I laughed as I patted him and said, "Because someone might see me, Tiger. I'm about to refill my coffee cup, and that means standing in front of the window. Someone might come over to talk and I'd rather get my coffee made and go see Selena and Toni. Do you want to come along?"     Tiger listened with a cocked ear as Sue relayed my answer, then he spoke again in a tone I knew to be affirmative, translated unnecessarily by Sue as "Yes."     As I dumped what looked to be about enough instant coffee into my cup, I asked, "Steph, does it seem highly coincidental that an Army colonel who is about to retire and happens to be related to friends of mine showed up here this weekend?"     Steph's attention seemed to remain fixed on stroking Tiger as she said, "Col. Meyer received his orders last Friday, Ed. His visit here is listed as a 'delay en route for personal reasons'."     "Where are his parents? What state?"     "They live in Pennsylvania. Kent took leave to visit them during Christmas."     "Hm. The Army usually allows a month or more for peacetime transfers, Steph. What emergency circumstances required him to change duty stations on a week's notice or required the Army to fill a slot at Ft. Bragg that quickly?"     "No such circumstances are apparent, Ed."     Noting that the small crowd across the street had mostly dissipated as I capped my mug, I said, "I didn't think they would be."     I turned from the sink, sipped my coffee, looked at Steph, and said, "Assume that this is a setup; that he'll retire and sign on with you and even that he'll perform for you as well as he would for any other employer. Also assume that he'll be reporting to someone."     Steph smiled. "I'd planned to proceed along those lines, Ed."     Sue looked at Steph and asked, "You're going to hire him?"     "Someone once told me that well-known demons can be safer company than unknown angels."     Looking at me, Sue said, "I can guess who that might have been."     I picked up the phone and called Selena's number.     She answered on the fourth ring with, "Ed, we expected you to be here by now."     "The blessings of caller ID... Hello to you, too, lady. I'm calling to tell you we're about to hit the road. Wanted to make sure you hadn't gone shopping or something."     "As if," she said. "Get yourselves moving and your excuse better be good."     "Oh, by your command, milady. I'm bringing Tiger, too. See you in a few. Bye."     "Okay-bye. And hurry." She hung up.     Grabbing my travel kit, I said, "Ready when you are, ladies." Speaking to the room, I asked, "Elkor?"     Elkor's disembodied voice said, "Yes, Ed."     "Are you coming with us to Inverness?"     As he said "Yes," Tiger's platform floated into the kitchen. Tiger hopped onto it and spoke and Elkor's disembodied voice returned the catty greeting. I opened the front door and started to hold it for the ladies, but they'd already vanished from the kitchen.     Susanne and Steph were seated aboard the flitter when it landed. Tiger, Elkor, and I quickly boarded and the flitter lifted skyward swiftly. A couple of kids who'd been watching our prior air show had lingered at the corner to talk. One of them saw us and dropped his skateboard to point at us as he yelled at the other kid to look.     A few minutes later we descended toward Selena's condo. Selena and Toni lay by the small swimming pool in lounge chairs. Toni pointed up at us and swatted Selena with her towel. Selena waved her drink at us, then let Toni pull her to her feet.     The condo's back yard was too small for a landing, so Sue hovered above the fence and I dropped down to the lawn as Tiger descended on his platform beside me. I set my travel kit down to hug Selena and Toni. Tiger hopped off Elkor's platform to roll in the grass by their feet and they each took a moment to pat him and say 'hi'.     Sue and Steph appeared and Selena's and Toni's eyes widened considerably as they got their first 'in person' looks at Sue. After introductions and greetings there was an awkward moment, then Selena got us moving toward the condo.     "Toni and I are cooking out here," she said, "Let's get inside, out of the sun," and as she turned to lead the way she shot me an amazed sort of look and whispered, "My God, she's beautiful, Ed!"     "Gee, you think so?" I whispered back, eyeing Sel's bikini-clad body, "Gee, lady, I dunno... Compared to you, she seems kind of average to me..."     Sel's raised eyebrow and 'you can put that back in the bull' glance spoke her opinion of my comment. Tiger realized that he'd ceased to be the center of anyone's attention and got up to follow us to the screen door.     Steph studied the pool deck, then looked at Sel and Toni and asked, "Would you and Toni be more comfortable if Sue and I were also dressed as if for swimming?"     The catch in Toni's breath was audible and I knew that -- like me -- she and Sel were vividly remembering the last time we'd seen Steph in a bathing suit.     Sel glanced at Toni before saying, "Whatever would make you comfortable, Steph."     Field-generated clothing transmogrified into bathing suits; Steph's was, as expected, an emerald-green bikini and Sue wore a white one that offered a rather stark contrast to her carefully-computed bronze tan.     Toni breathed, "Oh, wowww...!" and settled into a chair near the big plastic table by the pool, unable to take her eyes off Steph and Sue. Selena let her breath out in a long, soft sigh as her gaze ranged first over Steph from head to toe, then Sue.     After a long look at all of the women present, I went to the kitchen for drinks as Selena grinningly sat down beside Toni, leaned across the table, and said, "So, Susanne, tell us all about you..."     Tiger followed me to the kitchen and wove back and forth between my feet as I opened the fridge. I took a moment to put down a bit of milk in a small bowl for him, changed into a bathing suit in the living room, then grabbed a Dr Pepper and two diet Pepsis and headed back to the pool deck.     As I set the Pepsis down Sue was saying, "...So here I am, a flitter pilot for at least a year."     She glanced at me and I felt as if she'd maybe truncated another line of thought. Sel and Toni trying to stifle giggles reinforced that feeling.     I looked at Steph, but she simply looked at me as if wondering why I was looking at her. Sue gave me a similarly innocent look.     Uh, huh... So it was a conspiracy.     Oh, well; almost nothing will create bonds among people quicker than sharing secrets.     Guzzling some Dr Pepper, I made my way to the pool and sat on the steps. I felt eyes on me and turned to see everyone staring at me. More games. Okay. I stood up and whispered 'five suit on' just before I entered the water.     When I ducked under I was below their line of sight into the pool. The five suit kept the water about half an inch from my face and I was able to mutter 'three suit on'.     It wasn't a matter of holding my breath; reserve oxygen in the field sphere that hung near my briefcase circulated as necessary as I sat on the bottom of the pool.     Perhaps a minute went by before I heard a chair slide back on the rough concrete above, then a face -- Toni's, by her dark hair -- appeared almost directly above me. I wondered if she'd noticed where the thin umbilical link from the field sphere above me entered the water.     Apparently not. Sel's face soon appeared near Toni's. They looked around in some consternation for a few moments, then Selena seemed to have a revelation and she shoved Toni into the pool, then followed her in. Sel spread her arms, then Toni did the same and they began a methodical, groping search of the pool.     I followed them around for a little while, then it apparently occurred to Sel that I might be behind them. She turned abruptly and backtracked, very nearly making contact with me as I shoved off the pool wall and scooted out of her path.     When Toni moved to follow her, the time seemed right, so I formed two field tendrils that reached for their legs. Both women shrieked and thrashed, then seemed to become more determined than ever to locate me.     They began again their methodical sweep of the pool as I headed for the shallow end and eased myself up the steps and out of the water. Since the water didn't stick to my five suit field, there was almost no disturbance of the surface as I lifted my legs and feet clear.     Some minutes later, the ladies were rather frustrated as they turned to ask Steph and Sue for assistance in locating me. I froze, but though Selena couldn't see me, she noticed that my Dr Pepper bottle was suspended above the table.     Screaming their 'gonna get you's', the ladies stormed out of the water and converged on the poolside table. By that time I'd moved to the condo doorway, so their frantic groping around the table yielded them only empty chairs.     With some minor swearing first Selena, then Toni, sat down and sipped their Pepsis, then toweled their hair. I said 'three suit off' and their eyes found me in the doorway.     "That's cheating," Toni said in a flat tone.     "Yeah," said Sel, "And how come your hair isn't wet?"     "Five suit," I said. "Turned it on just before I ducked under."     "That's cheating," Toni reiterated.     I shrugged slightly and grinned so that she'd know the full extent of my remorse and said, "Had to breathe down there."     Setting my Dr Pepper bottle down, I headed for the bathroom. On the way I keyed my implant and asked, "Steph, are you considering recruiting Sel and Toni for your PFM company?"     "No, Ed. I have no immediate need of more employees."     "Understood. Would you have any objections to issuing Sel and Toni demo units?"     "No. I'll make and deliver them before I excuse myself."     "Thanks, milady. You're leaving us?"     "Yes."     Her flat, one-word answer didn't invite further questions, so I didn't ask them. I finished up in the bathroom and returned to the pool deck. Moments later the screen door seemed to open itself and three small, shining objects zipped into the deck enclosure to land in Steph's slightly extended left hand.     Two of the objects were standard PFM's, which she placed on the table. The third was a circlet about three inches in diameter that was obviously meant for Tiger. Since Tiger had argued about every collar I'd ever put on him, I expected there to be a bit of a discussion.     Nope. Steph called Tiger to the table and spoke to him at length in cat-ese. Tiger answered in his affirmative fashion and lifted his chin so Steph could place the collar around his neck, where it constricted slightly for a perfect fit.     The little guy sat looking at Steph for a moment, spoke again, and put a paw on Steph's hand. He then hopped down and walked to the pool. After staring at the water that barely covered the first step for a moment, he said something, jumped into the water, and jumped quickly out again.     After examining himself fairly carefully, Tiger seemed very impressed as he said something that sounded like "Waowow!"     "Wow, hell," I said. "He wasn't in there long enough for the water to touch his fur without using a PFM. He damned near passed himself coming and going."     Selena giggled and said, "Quick as a cat, you could say."     Toni said, "Most cats take a rather medieval view of getting wet unnecessarily."     "This one sure does," I said. I looked directly at Tiger as I added, "Whatta wuss."     Being unable to give me the finger, he gave me an equivalent ear-flick, then stepped back into the pool. After verifying his waterproofing, he strutted over to hop back onto the table and again voiced his pleasure to Steph. When Sel reached to pet him, her eyes widened in surprise.     "I can't quite touch him! It's as if there's something between my hand and his fur! Steph, what..? Is that collar like Ed's implant?"     "Yes, it is," said Steph, briefly describing PFM capabilities while using a field screen to display me in flight. She then handed one of the devices to each woman as she said, "Ed and I thought you might like to have demonstration units." Chapter Fifty-Eight     Handing Sel and Toni each a PFM, Steph got to her feet and patted Tiger as she said she had some things to do elsewhere. After a round of thanks and hugs and cheek-kisses from Sel and Toni, Steph vanished, leaving Sue and me to show the ladies how to use their PFM's.     Sel and Toni stuck the PFM's on their forearms, then spent a nervous few moments joking about what to wear with them and under what circumstances to consider calling up their protective fields.     Neither woman seemed enthusiastic about having glider or parachute capabilities, but both were well impressed with the protective field and spent almost half an hour 'testing' it in the pool. Tiger participated cautiously at first, on only the topmost pool steps, then paddled around the shallow end a bit.     At one point Tiger called up his glider and its emerald wings knocked over one of the plastic chairs almost three feet away from him.     Unlike our gliders, his had no body bag; beneath his feet was a narrow platform with low walls around it. He could stand on it or walk around it, then pull his feet up onto it in the air.     Tiger looked at me and said something, then looked at Sue expectantly.     "He wants to know why his 'bird-arms' are so large," said Sue.     "Well, have fun explaining the principles of flight to him, if that's possible. Why didn't he just ask you? He knows I don't understand much cat."     "I believe that would have to do with his understanding of our group hierarchy."     I shrugged. "He still has to get the answer from you." Patting Tiger and thumbing toward Sue, I said, "It's all right to ask Sue directly, Tiger."     Sue translated and I nodded to affirm her 'words'. Tiger regarded me for a moment, then looked at Sue. She seemed to say quite a lot in cat, after which Tiger flicked an ear thoughtfully and seemed to mull things for a while.     "He doesn't look convinced," I said, "Sue, ask him if he wants to try a quick flight in the yard."     She did so. Tiger looked at the little yard, then at me. I nodded and flew a hand above the table. After another look at the yard, he stood up and spoke affirmatively.     Just like that. The little guy had courage the size of Texas or total faith in his friends. Or both. I opened the screen door and he marched outside.     "Elkor," I said, "The wind is to the south. You could launch him from the fence and I can catch him at this end. If necessary, that is."     "It won't be necessary, Ed. I won't let him make a bad landing."     Nodding, I said, "Cool. Thanks, Elkor."     Selena, Toni, Sue, and I congregated by the screen porch door. Elkor made a Tiger platform, Tiger got on it, and then Elkor lifted it to about twenty feet or so. After some pre-launch instructions from Elkor, Tiger spoke definitively.     Sue said, "Tiger has activated his p-field."     "Smart move," I said.     Tiger spoke again and sprouted a five-foot-wide pair of emerald wings. He looked at us for a long moment, then gave a loud yell and launched himself off the platform. His flight was slightly wobbly as he crossed the yard, but he didn't veer far off course. Elkor's platform followed Tiger closely.     A few feet from us the nose of Tiger's glider tilted up slightly and his forward progress virtually stopped while he was still about two feet above the ground.     He spoke and the kite vanished, then he dropped to the ground and strode forward with tentative steps, his tail switching agitatedly back and forth. Do cats get wobbly knees? Probably not, since they can't straighten their legs as humans do.     Whatever Tiger said to Sue and me rang with excitement. He sat down and seemed to check himself over once, then looked up and around at the rest of us. I knelt to pat him and Selena and Toni followed suit with words of praise and enthusiasm. Sue was the last to kneel to pet him and she spoke cat to him for a moment.     Tiger almost glowed at her words and the petting continued for another few moments before he spoke to Elkor.     The platform drifted near him and Tiger got on it. He made another flight from the rear of the yard, then he flopped in the grass and spoke while looking at Selena and Toni.     Sue said, "He wants to know why you aren't flying, too."     Toni blanched and swallowed hard, then said, "Uh, well, you can tell him the yard's too small. Or something. Anything."     I asked, "Toni, do you think we'd let anything happen to you?"     She looked hard at me for a moment, then said quietly, "Don't pressure me, Ed."     Shrugging, I said, "No pressure. I just asked, that's all. Sel, do you want to try your wings?"     Sel looked at Toni and quietly said, "Maybe later, Ed."     "Would a human demonstration flight help?"     She shook her head tersely. "No, I don't think so. I'll try mine another time."     Toni looked sharply at her. "Look, just because I'm chicken doesn't mean..."     "I know, I know," said Sel, raising her hands placatingly. "But the yard's too small. We'd have to go somewhere with more room."     "So?" asked Toni. "Go someplace bigger. I may not feel like flying, but I won't mind watching you do it."     Selena again shook her head. "No. Later, maybe." She looked at me and said, "I'm not really too keen on this kind of flying, either. Yet. I guess."     I looked at the ladies and considered lifting myself on a field tower to launch for a quick demo flight, then decided against it. They wouldn't see it as encouragement.     Tiger seemed mildly confused about the tone of things as he sounded off to Sue. Elkor brought the platform down where he could jump on, then they floated toward the end of the yard. Tiger sprouted his wings again and glided across the yard to land near Sel's feet, turned off his kite, then spoke again.     Sue said, "He says it's easy and that you have nothing to fear."     Tiger regarded Selena for a moment, then he rubbed against her legs and flopped across her feet to wash her ankle, apparently deciding that she was in need of comfort.     Sel giggled, then reached to pick him up and stroked him as she headed for the screen door. Toni grinned at me, then followed Sel. Things seemed on their way to being all better soon. I looked at Sue and she looked back with a raised eyebrow.     "Tiger seemed to know exactly what to do about Selena's anxieties," she said.     "It's a cat thing," I replied.     I held the door for Sue as Elkor morphed to cat form and followed her inside. It occurred to me to ask what I hadn't asked before as Selena deposited herself in a deck chair with Tiger.     "Elkor, why didn't you go to cat mode and fly with Tiger?"     "I didn't want to embarrass him, Ed. I've discovered that cats are very sensitive about such things."     "Ah. Well, thanks, Elkor. I'd have probably just taken him up a few thousand feet and let him launch. He'd have figured it out on the way down."     The remark didn't faze Sue or Elkor, but Sel looked up sharply in startlement.     "What?" I asked. "Elkor would have been there for him. You know that."     Her hard look didn't seem to abate much until she turned back to lavishing attention on Tiger. Elkor hopped onto the table and sat some distance from Tiger and the ladies, first looking at them, then at me. He said nothing.     I used field tendrils to open the fridge and retrieve a Dr Pepper. Selena looked up as the fridge door opened and closed. She watched the bottle float to my hand and watched me open it and drink, her gaze oddly questioning.     "Sometimes," she said thoughtfully, "I forget just how different you've become, Ed. Are you still human, really?"     She was still in a tense mood and I wasn't going to give her an excuse to gather any steam. I gave her a wry grin and sipped in silence.     Toni put a quieting hand on Sel's arm. That's like telling someone to calm down. It doesn't always work and sometimes makes the other person more reactive.     Sel sat up straight and asked, "You really would have told him to jump off the flitter, Ed?"     "Don't start, Sel," I said, "Talk about what's really bothering you, but don't start an argument over nothing. Besides, you saw him go for it out there."     I could have fed her some calming theta waves, but that's an emergency-only sort of thing as far as I'm concerned. Sel's left eyebrow went up and she stiffened, then straightened.     Damn. Stage one. Sel always stiffened up before launching a verbal barrage.     Toni rolled her eyes and again reached for Sel's arm as she said, "Sel, honey, take it easy. He's right. Little Tiger is a real tiger at heart. He'd have been the first one off the flitter and you know it."     Stage two -- sarcasm -- manifested itself.     Selena's gaze was sharp as she said, "Oh, yeah! Sure, he'd have jumped! Wanna know why? He'd be afraid that Mr. Macho, there, would think less of him if he didn't, that's why!" Her gaze returned to me as she continued, "It kind of makes you wonder what Mr. Macho thinks of us, doesn't it?!"     "We already knew how Toni feels about flying in general," I said, "And gliding is a lot more... personally experienced... than flying while sitting in a flitter seat. I didn't expect her to be too enthusiastic right away. If at all."     Stage three; she found a way to personalize the issue at hand.     Sel's gaze narrowed. "Her. She. What about me, Ed? Did you really expect me to be very enthusiastic about it? Huh? Did you?!"     Shrugging, I sipped my drink and said, "Never thought about it, Sel. Tomorrow's another day. Give it a shot then."     Enunciating clearly, she asked, "And what if I don't?"     "Then you don't. Sel, hang gliding isn't for everybody. No biggie."     A good three seconds went by. I could almost hear the gears turning in her head as her gaze narrowed.     "No biggie?" she mimicked. "No biggie?!"     "That's what I said. I don't give a damn if you ever fly your kite, Sel. The protective field is more than enough reason to have a PFM, so..."     Selena shoved her chair back and stood up. Her narrow gaze had become a glare.     Toni snapped, "Sel, would you just calm the fuck down?!"     She took a serious grip on Sel's arm and pulled her back down into her chair.     "Take a goddamned break, okay?" said Toni. "I'm not sure what that was about and I don't want to deal with it! We're supposed to be having fun today."     Things had actually calmed down a bit when a short beep sounded from the driveway.     Selena muttered, "Oh, shit," and banged the arm of her chair with a fist before shoving herself up and out of it to head for the front door.     Toni simply sighed, "Yeah. Oh, shit," and slouched sulkily.     From the front hall I heard Selena's mother cheerfully say, "Hi! I was just in the neighborhood, as they say."     Selena said, "Your 'neighborhood' is on the other side of the state, mom. What's the occasion?"     "Is that any way to greet your mother, Sel? Do I need a special reason to visit?"     "You always seem to have one. And you have a tendency to visit without calling ahead. Like now. Remember what you always said about surprise visitors? Is there some reason your own rules don't apply to you?"     In the reflection of the glass doors I saw Sel's mother push a grocery bag into Sel's arms and bustle past her toward the pool deck as she said, "Here, dear, I brought dinner. Put these things away before they spoil."     Upon seeing me, she stopped and let her arms drop to her sides as she stood stiffly and said, "Oh. Well, that explains her snit, doesn't it? I should have expected you to be here."     "Right," I said, "Try to look surprised. It's the weekend, Joanie. You knew damned well I'd be here."     Joanie looked pretty good at fifty-one and packaged herself to optimize her best-retained features; her face, boobs, and legs. Her beige blouse and tan near-knee skirt worked well with her intermediate, store-bought tan.     As my eyes roamed her, Joanie's face reddened slightly, but that may have been from irritation more than anything else.     She remained standing by the door and indicated Susanne as she said to Toni, "Hello, Toni. Aren't you going to introduce me to your lovely friend?"     Toni glanced at Sue, then at me. I shrugged.     She said, "Sure. Sue, this is Selena's mother."     The brevity of her introduction caused Joanie to raise an eyebrow at Toni, but she moved to take Sue's hand and said, "I'm Joanie. Nice to meet you, Sue. Susan, is it?"     "Susanne," said Sue.     "Ah. Are you a student, too?"     With a straight face Sue said, "No, I'm a private pilot."     Toni glanced at Sue and almost giggled. Joanie noticed. She gave Sue a studious gaze for a moment as she tried to decide whether Sue was joking with her.     Their handshake ended and Joanie moved around the table to what had been Selena's chair, then moved Sel's drink in front of the last empty chair and started to sit down.     "Why is this cat on the table?" she asked. "Animals don't belong on tables."     "He's fine where he is, Joanie." I said. "Why not take the empty chair? Selena was sitting there."     Joanie stopped in mid-sit to look at me and say, "She won't mind," then dropped her butt in Selena's chair. She then looked at Tiger with a 'let's-make-things-right' expression and began to reach for him.     "Touch not the cat," I said, "But with a glove."     "What?"     "An old Scottish saying," I said. "In fact, one of the clans uses it as a motto. 'Touch not the cat but with a glove'. If I were you I wouldn't mess with Tiger."     "Well, you're not me and cats don't belong on tables."     "If he scratches you..." Toni began.     Joanie glanced sharply at her and said, "If he scratches me, he'll be off this table a lot less pleasantly."     I laid a hand on Joanie's arm to prevent her further reach for Tiger and softly said, "Just leave my cat alone, Joanie. He's fine right where he is."     In a low tone she said, "Take your hand off my arm, Ed."     "Just as soon as I'm sure you won't touch Tiger."     "I said, 'take your hand off my arm'."     Toni gathered Tiger into her arms and ruffled his chin as she said, "There. No more cat on the table. Everybody can relax now, right?"     Joanie pulled her arm away from my hand and rubbed it as if I'd actually had a grip on it.     She glared at Toni, then at me, then said, "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't put your hands on me, Ed. Not at all. Ever."     I returned her glare with one of my own and quietly replied, "Then don't make it necessary, Joanie. Not at all. Ever."     Leaning back a bit to see through the window into the house, Toni asked, "I wonder what's keeping Sel..? I don't see her in the kitchen."     Stepping around the doorway, Selena said, "That's probably because I'm not in the kitchen. Mom, you only came over here to start trouble, as usual, and I'm just not up to dealing with it -- with you -- today." To the rest of us she said, "I'm sorry, but I'm going to my room now."     She then spun on her heel and walked away. A few moments later I heard a door slam and lock. Joanie tried to look shocked. Hell, maybe she actually was shocked.     I said, "I think we'll hit the road, Toni. This weekend is officially fucked up now."     Joanie's already-sharp gaze narrowed even more at my words, then she said, "I'm afraid your next weekend will be, too, Ed."     We all looked at her, waiting for an explanation. After a pause Joanie drummed a fingernail on the table and said, "Selena won't be going to the Maryland convention with you. My surgery has been moved to the fifteenth."     Toni said, "You were scheduled for the beginning of next month. What happened?"     With a slight shrug and a hard look at me, Joanie said flatly, "They moved it."     "They moved it?" asked Toni, "Or you moved it?"     She received only a flat, silent stare as an answer. I studied my drink bottle for a few moments, then drank some of it and carefully centered the bottle on one of the loose coasters on the table before speaking.     "Rescheduling abdominal surgery just to keep us from going to a science fiction convention is a bit much, Joanie." Looking at Sue and Tiger, I said, "Boots and saddles. We're getting out of here."     Toni ruffled Tiger's face and stroked him, then kissed me goodbye and hugged Sue as I headed for the screen door and opened it. Joanie's expression didn't change much as the flitter settled into the yard; she'd seen it before a few times. Toni gave us a small wave as we lifted.     Once we were underway, Sue gave me a rather long look, then turned her attention to Tiger.     "What?" I asked.     Without looking up she asked, "Are you sure that leaving was the right course of action, Ed? And shouldn't we at least have let Selena know we were leaving?"     "She left first and she has a datapad if she wants to talk. Sel locked herself in her room, so I'd guess she isn't going to be standing up to her mother today. Joanie wants Sel to date men her own age, not one twenty-plus years older. She also wants grandkids and knows that I was fixed back in '71. I'm not her idea of Sel's Mr. Right."     Sue looked at me for a moment, then went back to ruffling Tiger as she asked, "How does Selena feel about children?"     "She's been with me for several years, Sue. Not once has she said anything about wanting them anytime soon."     With a slight nod, Sue continued to stroke Tiger. Some moments later a datapad screen manifested in front of me. Selena's face appeared.     "Sorry, Ed. She really got to me this time."     Nodding, I asked, "Did you hear about her surgery?"     Sel's gaze narrowed as she said, "No. I haven't been out of my room."     I took a breath and told her.     "She rescheduled it to coincide with the convention, Sel."     Startlement became mild shock, then anger, and she glanced back at the bedroom door while almost whispering, "That bitch!" Turning back to face me, she said, "She can have her goddamned surgery whenever the hell she wants, Ed. I won't be there."     Shaking my head, I said, "Give it some thought. How you feel right this moment wouldn't keep you from kicking yourself for the rest of your life if anything went wrong, and you'd always hold me partly to blame for being involved at all. She's got you -- us -- over a barrel with this trick."     Rage turned cold in Sel's face as she growled, "The hell she does. I'll call you back later, Ed."     When I nodded and said, "Okay," Sel's finger stabbed the 'off' icon. The datapad disappeared as Sue looked at me with a raised eyebrow.     "What do you think she'll do, Ed?"     "Argue. Loud and long. But she has no leverage, Sue. It's going to be her will against her mother's all the way, and Joanie already has the advantage by being able to use her surgery as an emotional club." Chapter Fifty-Nine     After snarfing down a Tostino's pizza I checked email. When I finished that little chore, I almost followed my habit of scanning the newsgroups, but found that I really wasn't in the mood. I turned off the computer and stood up.     "Sue, I'm going to the pub. Gotta let off some steam. Care to come along?"     She looked at me oddly, but said, "Okay," and changed into her little black dress.     I took a long moment to admire her, then said, "Not the flitter this time. The car needs a run."     Patting Tiger on my way past the melodeon, I said, "You have the conn, Tiger. Hold the fort 'till we get back."     He said, "Yahhh!" then seemed to go back to sleep.     As I opened the car door for Sue, she asked, "Should we be using the car before you've had it repaired, Ed?"     "The insurance guy's seen it already. I straightened the tailpipe and jacked the bumper back out a bit and the taillights all work. If the other car hadn't pretty much slid under the bumper, there'd have been a lot more damage."     My 84 Olds Eighty-Eight started readily, even though the engine knocked loudly when it revved a bit.     "That can't be good," said Sue.     "It's a rod or a bearing. Been doing that for three years. I'm still deciding whether to fix it or dump it, so I guess I'm just waiting for it to die to push the issue over the edge."     Sue looked thoughtful for a second, then said, "Repair of either problem would require dismantling the engine."     I glanced at her and said, "No, it wouldn't."     She looked startled at my response and displayed a mechanic's repair chart on a field pad.     "Ed this is..."     "Check the price of a fix," I interrupted. "Then check the price of a used engine from a junkyard."     As she referenced my suggestion, I listened to the engine. Any worse than usual? Hm. Maybe get it fixed, after all? A replacement engine would cost a grand, installed by a parts yard, and the Olds was a big, easy-chair-comfortable ride.     It was apparently considerably more solid than the later-model cars, too. The 1999 Olds 98 Regency that had hit me had become two feet shorter above its bumper and there'd been broken plastic all over the road.     The 98's fenders had been made of fiberglass. Something about that bugged me deeply, aside from the fact that the 98 had shattered when it hit my old steel brick. I decided that I didn't want a plastic car, even if I didn't keep my 84 Olds.     "I see," said Sue, referring to repair versus replacement, "Is there some reason you don't simply buy a new car?"     "Yup. I don't like the new ones. They all look alike."     After a moment of apparently wondering if I was serious, she said, "That can't be the only reason."     "No, ma'am, it isn't. A new car is a money-hole from the moment you sign for it. As much as a third of the dealer price is pure profit and full-coverage insurance is outrageous. I only bother owning a car so I can get from place to place, ma'am, and for the last few years, I've only driven this thing about once or twice a week. What's that really worth to me?"     She gazed at me for a moment, then said, "I don't know, Ed. What's that worth to you?"     Shrugging, I said, "Not more than about a grand, and only because it's hard to find anything even reasonably presentable and dependable for less."     As I'd explained my views to Sue, I'd decided to call Bost Automotive about a used engine. He'd have one or know where to get one and he'd probably toss in the other little fixes.     Susie was behind the bar when we arrived and took seats at the bar. She was doing a happy little hip-swinging hop-dance to Juice Newton's "Playing with the Queen of Hearts".     Her short, a-line skirt flipped deliciously as she moved, and Bill-somebody shoved his change across the bar with a big grin. The money disappeared into Susie's tip jar as she grinningly passed him.     Then she turned and saw Susanne. Susie froze for a moment, glanced almost apprehensively at Bill, then she approached our end of the bar. Bill's eyes narrowed as he also realized that I seemed to be with the wrong woman.     Susie made a stop at the cash register for quarters, then approached our end of the bar.     "Hey, Ed," said Susie, eyeing Sue's little black dress, "Who's your new, uh, friend?"     With a grin, I said, "My 'new, uh, friend' is Susanne, Susie. She's Steph's replacement, but Steph will still be dropping in now and then."     Susie fixed me with an examining gaze for a moment, then looked at Susanne again.     "Uh, huh. I see. Well. Here ya go; two bucks in quarters and an Ice House coming up." Turning to Sue, she asked, "What'll you have, Susanne?"     "Thank you, but I don't drink."     With a nod, Susie fished a bottle of Ice House beer out of the cooler, then asked, "Ed, why is it you only date teetotalers, but you bring them to bars? Not even a Coke for her?"     I handed her a five and said, "Not even a Coke. Sorry. About dating teetotalers Susie; I might make an exception in your case. You still married to what's-his-face?"     After a moment of slight startlement and a glance at Sue to see how she'd taken my words, Susie sighed and said, "Yeah, still with him, Ed. There's just something about him, I guess. Can't seem to let go of him."     Trying to sound disappointed, I said, "Well, damn. But I guess there must be a reason for that, huh?"     Susanne's expression told me that our conversation had confused her slightly.     I patted her hand and smiled as Susie nodded and said, "Yeah, guess so. Sorry, Ed. Check back later, though."     Nodding as I sipped my beer, I said, "Will do."     With a grin at Susanne, Susie said, "Don't pay any attention to us; we've known each other for years. Nice to meet you, Susanne. I'll call you Sue for short."     With a sidelong look at me, she said, "Well, guess I'd better get back to work. Yell if you run dry, Ed."     Susie had a well-practiced flounce to her walk as she headed back down the bar. I noticed Susanne watching me watch Susie walk away. Susie paused by the cash register with a mischievous grin at me. Susanne saw that, too, but said nothing and turned to me with a look of mild consternation.     "I'm a little confused," said Sue.     Chuckling, I said, "Thought you might be. Let's see if our reasons match. Why are you confused?"     "You appeared to be making a pass at Susie."     "That's the word for it. 'Appeared'. It wasn't real."     "Then why did you do it?"     "Compliments come in many forms and Susie likes to flirt."     "I can see that."     Flipping a quarter, I said, "Let's get on a pool table."     With a raised eyebrow, Sue said, "You know I won't miss."     "Yeah, I know. So I'll break and try real hard to run 'em."     A guy sitting by one of the pool tables saw Sue and seemed transfixed by her. As we passed his table he moved his chair for a better view. Louis somebody, if I recalled correctly; thirtyish, used to ride a Harley.     Now he had a biker jacket and walked with some difficulty using an aluminum cane. I didn't know what happened to him; I'd met him maybe three times in the bar, but we'd never talked about much other than pool.     He grinned and nodded toward the tables as he asked, "Hey, Ed, is she any good?"     After considering whether his question might have dual meanings, I said, "Yeah, I think she might be. Lou, is it?"     "Yeah." He draped himself in his chair to watch us play as I lined up a few stacks of quarters.     I got lucky in the first game. From the break to the eight, all the shots were either easy drops or makeable without too much toil and trouble. Sue fed the table three more quarters, racked the balls, and waited patiently as I slammed the cue ball into the point ball.     Some guy in his late twenties drifted off a barstool and stood watching my next three shots before he said, "I think you just got lucky last game."     Stifling a snort of laughter, I said, "You have no idea."     As I lined up on the fifteen, he asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"     The fifteen dropped.     I lined up for the nine and said, "It means that I know I got lucky. She's doing me a favor by playing me."     He eyed Sue, then asked, "What's that mean?" again.     The nine fell in the corner after a long walk along the rail.     "It means that I don't expect her to miss, so I'm making the best of things while I can."     Plainly skeptical and more than a little impressed with Sue's looks, the guy fished in his pocket for some quarters. He slapped them down on the table and stepped back.     "I'm up next," he said.     "There are two other tables," I said, looking for my next shot.     The ten was hidden behind the four. Every other possible shot sucked, too. I prepared to try a jump shot on the ten.     "Yeah, but I wanna play on this table," said the guy. "You sure jump shots are legal?"     "In my games they are."     I missed and the cue ball hit the rail and rolled back to nudge the eight into the side pocket. The guy snickered and stepped up to the table.     "Wait one," I said. Turning to Sue, I asked, "Do you want to play this guy?"     She shrugged slightly, indicating that it didn't matter. I stepped away from the coin box.     Turning to Sue, the guy asked, "How 'bout five a game?"     Sue gave him a flat gaze and said, "I don't have any money."     "He does," said the guy, deliberately not taking her hint. "Seems to me he shouldn't mind backin' you, since he thinks you're so hot."     Giving him an absolutely even gaze, I said, "Well, I've never really seen her shoot, but she told me that she won't miss, and I believe her."     His gaze narrowed sharply. He plainly didn't believe a word of it. Oh, well.     He asked, "You gonna back her or not, sport?"     Shrugging, I said, "Yeah, I guess so. Five, right?"     "Unless you got the balls to go ten."     Shrugging again, I said, "Well, since you felt you just had to put it that way... Don't you worry about my balls, guy; worry about her kicking your ass on the table. Ten, twenty, fifty... I don't give a damn. You pick a number."     Susie came around the bar and padded quickly over to us.     "Keep it down," she said, "Allen's here."     Allen came out of the back with four cases of beer in his arms and set them down effortlessly behind the bar, then came to see what was going on.     He stood well over six feet and seemed to have muscles on his muscles and he grinningly stopped not far behind Susie, patiently waiting for her cue to do just any little thing at all for her.     "Don't let us see you betting on these tables," said Susie, "'Cause if we can see it, so can anybody else who might be in here. You both got that?"     I nodded as the other guy glanced at Allen and said, "Uh, yeah."     "And don't either of you get ugly if you lose," she added. "Allen can get uglier. I'll guarantee that."     As Susie and Allen went back to the bar, I said, "Maybe we'd better forget the bet. I like this place."     The guy turned to face me and grinned hard as he said, "You know, I kinda figured you'd say that, sport."     He flicked the corner of a fifty in his shirt pocket and said, "Yeah, I just kind of knew you'd say something like that."     Glancing at Sue, I asked, "Hey, lady, are you sure you won't miss?"     She smilingly nodded. Louis got up and moved to a closer table as I nodded to the challenger.     "Fifty it is, then. Sport."     Sue broke the rack with enough backspin to return the cue to the rail, made the two on the break, and then systematically popped in all the solids and the eight in just under a minute.     I ambled over near the guy with my hand out. He wordlessly passed me his fifty as he stared at Sue. She smiled and leaned on the table very prettily.     "Again," he croaked. "Nobody's that good. She just got lucky as hell."     "You just saw her be that good," I said. "Sometimes things just are as they are, y'know."     He shook his head. "Again. The same. Fifty."     I glanced at the bar. Yup. Susie was paying attention.     "We're being watched," I said. "Take it easy."     He turned on me and growled, "We go again or we go the fuck outside right now."     When they say things like that you can pretty well bet they'll be outside later in any case. You may as well soak them while you can, then deal with their unhappiness in the parking lot when the time comes.     Nodding, I looked at Sue and said, "He seems to have doubts, so you'll have to run 'em again, ma'am."     With a little salute, she said, "Yes, sir, sir."     He racked the balls and Sue ran the table again in about the same amount of time. The guy was raging quietly as he passed me another fifty.     Putting more quarters in the table, the guy jammed the coin bar hard, then rather noisily began racking the balls for another game.     "Maybe I ought to play you this time," I said. "You'd have a better chance."     "You just shut the fuck up and don't disappear with that money," he said. "We're goin' for a hundred this time. I'm gettin' my money back."     "Highly doubtful," I said as he shoved the rack to the dot.     Rounding the table quickly, he stopped within a foot of me and glaringly growled, "I told you to shut the fuck up!"     I regarded him quietly for a moment, then said, "That kind of Wrestlemania bullshit doesn't work on me, so either play pool or get lost. You wanted another game. You've got it."     He glowered at me for another moment before he reached for his stick and tried to lift the rack from the balls with one hand. That didn't work; he was shaking with rage and the corner balls drifted away slightly.     Swearing, he put his stick down, straightened the balls, lifted the rack with both hands, then picked up his stick and shoved the rack into the end of the table.     As he backed away from the table he muttered, "Bust 'em up, bitch."     I didn't care for that comment. Apparently neither did Sue. She quickly ran the stripes and the eight, and then without comment ran the rest of the balls and stepped away from the empty table.     Lou let out a low whistle and slowly clapped his hands a few times as he grinned at Sue and softly said, "Jesus H. Christ..!"     Sue's opponent was livid with rage. He was apparently somewhat stunned, as well, since he made not the slightest move for several moments as he glared at Susanne.     Very obviously glancing at the bar, I moved to stand near him and softly said, "The bet was a hundred."     As if disbelieving his ears, he turned his head to look at me for several seconds before he very deliberately said, "Fuck you. And your hustler girlfriend, too."     "You were told she wouldn't miss. Cough it up."     Push and shove time. I glanced around at a small sound and saw Louis approaching, his cane in one hand and a cue stick in the other.     He ambled past us to put the stick in one of the wall holders, and as he did so, he very quietly said, "He said she wouldn't miss, Carl. You pushed for a game anyway. The bet was a hundred."     "You might wanna stay the fuck out of this," said Carl.     Lou shook his head. "Nope. Don't think so."     "How'd you like to meet me outside, too?"     "Don't talk stupid, Carl. Sooner or later a few guys would show up to talk to you about it, and you know it. Nobody fucks with one of us."     "Who's us?" I asked.     "Just some friends. Carl knows who we are, right, Carl?"     Carl glared at Lou's back as Lou ambled back to his table, then pulled a hundred from his pocket and wadded it tightly before tossing it on the floor between us. He then grabbed his beer and headed for the bar. I shrugged, picked up the hundred, uncrunched it, and stuffed it in a shirt pocket.     Lou waved his beer at the other chairs around his table. Sue and I joined him. Lou's eyebrows went up when I held Sue's chair to seat her.     "I'd treat her like gold, too," he said, "Any woman who can shoot like that has to be kind of special."     "Yeah, she's very special," I said. "Sue, this is Louis."     "Lou," said Lou. "Sue, you could make some real money in the tournaments."     "It wouldn't be fair," said Sue, with a shake of her head.     "Why not?"     With a small smile, she said, "I never miss."     At Lou's grinningly skeptical look, I said, "You saw her shoot, Lou. She's not kidding."     He snorted a laugh and grinned at Sue as he said, "Well, there's people would pay to see that, too. Some guys'd pay just to get a look at her, I think."     Glancing at the bar, he asked, "You want me to walk you out of here? I don't think Carl's gonna lose gracefully."     I shrugged. "You can be a witness. If I don't deal with Carl tonight, he'll just be a problem some other night."     Lou nodded. "Yeah, he looks like a hard learner. That's his fourth beer." He smiled and added, "Not counting the one he took with him. Working up to something, you think?"     There was a thump from the other room and I caught a glimpse of Carl heading for the door as Susie reached to keep his barstool from falling over. He glared at us on his way out.     Yeah, he'd be out there, no doubt about it.     I looked at Sue. "No help, okay? I need the practice."     Sue grinningly chirped, "Oh, yes, sir. No help. Got it, sir."     Lou gave her an odd look, plainly wondering what sort of help she might offer. His eyes searched her and saw nothing suitable as a weapon.     When his gaze again met mine, I said, "She's had some training."     Her unruffled demeanor and my quiet confidence in her served to elevate Lou's opinion of her even more.     He sat a little straighter and sipped his beer, then said, "Well, just say when."     "Now's good," I said, putting my bottle down and standing up.     "Let's do it, then," said Lou, also getting to his feet.     Susie saw us readying to leave and came to join us.     "I'm walking you to your car," she said.     I asked, "If you're expecting trouble, wouldn't Allen be a better choice?"     Pulling a metal tube from her skirt's only pocket, she said, "Not necessarily."     The tube was a Japanese police baton known as an asp. Two sections of heavy springs with a steel button on the end that could bust a kneecap would shoot out of the handle with a flick of her wrist.     Sure enough, Carl was waiting, leaning on a white car. He saw Lou and Susie and smarted off about my needing bodyguards.     I stopped everybody and stepped forward to within a few paces of Carl, then said, "They're just here as witnesses."     Without warning or discussion, Carl dropped his beer bottle and stepped forward quickly to try to land a punch on my face. I stepped back enough to let his fist go by. He swore, swung again, and missed again.     When he threw his next punch, I ducked to the right and stepped in close. Grabbing his belt, I lifted him slightly off the ground, shoved his face sideways with my left hand, and let go of him. He dropped three feet to the ground and landed hard on his right elbow and shoulder.     Carl sat up, then got up. This time he lunged at me, trying to get his arms around me to drag me down. I backed up as he came forward and my knee found his nose, then his forehead. The second impact rang his bells briefly.     Almost diving forward, he swung at my crotch, but I moved aside, then slammed the heel of my hand into his nose from above. Crunch. He was bleeding profusely as he backed away.     Pulling a handkerchief, Carl dabbed at his nose, saw his own blood, and seemed to go nuts. He came at me screaming something I couldn't understand.     Ducking two of the nearer punches was enough for me. I hit his gut, backhanded his throat with my fingertips, and then grabbed his left arm as I kicked his legs out from under him.     He again landed hard on his right side, chokingly groaning as the shock ran up his arm from his elbow impacting the parking lot. When he tried to move he wound up grabbing his right hip in agonized shock and gaspingly swearing through clenched teeth.     "Are we through yet?" I asked.     Carl didn't answer. I decided to see if we were through, extending my left hand to see if he'd take some help getting up. He grabbed my hand and tried to pull me into a punch.     I ducked the little bit that was necessary and captured his right arm over my left arm, then stepped to my left and knelt without letting go of him. He toppled to his right again and his elbow wound up across my knee.     Putting a little pressure on his forearm, I said, "I can break it, Carl. Then we'd be finished for sure."     "N-no!" he hissed, shaking his head tightly. "No!"     "I'll let you go and we'll walk, right? No more shit?"     He nodded. "Yes."     I nodded, too. "Good. I think you bet money you couldn't afford to lose, right Carl?"     Carl nodded again as tersely as before. "Yeah."     Standing up, I pulled the bill he'd thrown on the floor out of my pocket and tossed it on the ground in front of him. His eyes fixed on it, then he looked up at me as if expecting a trap.     "Well, Carl, here's some of it back to you the same way you gave it to me. Go ahead and pick it up. I told you she didn't miss. I didn't lie to you then and I'm not lying to you now when I tell you that if I have to do this again I'm really going to hurt you. Expensive, hospital-type hurt."     Stepping away from Carl, I shook hands with Susie and Lou, thanked them, and said goodnight to them. Untrusting Susie kept her eyes on Carl almost the whole time.     Lou belatedly said, "Uh, yeah, goodnight," as Sue and I started walking to the car.     As I opened the car door for Sue, I asked, "Any questions, milady?"     She raised an eyebrow at me and asked, "About what?"     "Anything, I guess. Steph always seemed to have questions after something ugly happened. Just figured you would, too."     Sue shook her head and got in. "No, Ed. No questions."     I watched her skirt ride high as she seated herself and reminded myself that it was just a field illusion. But a damned good one. Every little detail covered... Or uncovered, as it were.     When she was settled I closed the door and went around to get in with a glance toward the bar. I couldn't see anything past a van. Oh, well. I got in the car to find Sue looking at me thoughtfully.     "Maybe just one question," she said. "How much of what happened this evening was directly or indirectly due to your altercations with Selena and her mother?"     "Hm. Say about half. Maybe less, maybe more, but about half. I don't usually bet on pool at all, no matter who's shooting. That kind of thing can cause trouble, you know."     I couldn't help noting that it took as long to drive the seven miles home as it had to travel from Inverness to Spring Hill by flitter. After greeting Tiger and saying goodnight, I showered and dropped into bed. Chapter Sixty     The next morning I entered the kitchen to make that first, all-important cup of coffee and give some thought to the day ahead. Tiger hopped onto the table to wait by my usual chair, and as I sat down I greeted him with a chin rub and a pat.     "Hi, Tiger. Gimme a minute and I'll zap you some bacon."     "Yahhh. Yah."     He sat more or less patiently on the countertop as I microwaved some bacon under a paper towel. While the bacon was going round and round I cracked four eggs into little micro-safe bowls. When the timer reached two minutes, I opened the microwave and added the egg bowls to the carousel, then hit the 'resume' button.     I felt a sudden extra presence manifest in the kitchen as I unloaded the microwave and set things on the table.     "Care to join us for breakfast?" I asked.     Sue appeared in the chair opposite mine.     Tiger greeted her noisily and she answered in kind, then Susanne turned to me and said, "Hi."     "Hi, yourself, milady. What did Steph tell you about me and mornings?"     "Only that you could be cranky until you'd had your first coffee."     "Hm. Right enough, I guess. Not today, though. Is that why you, um... invisibly appeared just now?"     "No. Ed, how did you know I was here?"     I shrugged rather than try to talk around egg.     "How?" she asked intently. "I really want to know, Ed."     "Just did. That's all the answer I ever managed for Steph, too, Sue. I just did."     "I monitored my fields carefully, Ed. No emanations extended beyond my field matrix. None."     Swallowing and sipping coffee to wash down the egg, I said, "Maybe it wasn't a field kind of thing, then."     My answer didn't seem to satisfy her, of course. I looked her over and then let my eyes find hers.     "Must be nice being perfect," I said.     Steph had never known quite how to answer such remarks, and Sue was no different in that regard. She simply smiled wryly and patted Tiger. Come to think of it, that was an answer of sorts, I guess.     After I'd soaked up the highlights of the Sunday paper and a second coffee, Sue, Tiger, and I took my fabric hang glider to the flight meet south of Orlando.     As we approached, we could see gliders in the sky and Tiger sounded off as his wings appeared.     "Tell him to wait," I said. "We'll be flying later, after I get rid of the other glider. Also tell him to stick close to us, okay?"     Sue discussed the matter with Tiger and his wings finally disappeared. I knew the meaning of the look he gave me. If he'd been a human, his lower lip would have been sticking out in a major pout.     We picked an open area near a row of merchant tents and set the flitter down long enough to offload the glider, two folding chairs, and my cooler, then she sent the flitter up about twenty feet to hover above the row of cars behind us.     When the flitter lifted we became visible. A late-twenties couple in the nearest dealer tent had been discussing one of the kites being carried to the tow-launch lineup. The man had leaned to reach into the cooler behind their chairs as we'd arrived, so he hadn't seen the event, but it must have seemed to her as if we'd suddenly materialized from the ground up.     The woman froze and her eyes first got very big, then very narrow. She poked the man in the back and he said, "Yeah, hang on. I'm looking for one."     Still peering at us, she said, "Harry, forget the Coke. Something just happened."     Harry sat up and looked around as he asked, "What? Somebody crashed?"     Pointing at Sue and me, she said, "No. Those people... Uh, they just, uh..."     He shrugged and started to say something, but her state of startlement made him pause and look at her very questioningly.     "Annie, what the hell are you talking about?"     "Them," she said insistently, jabbing her finger at us again.     "What about them?"     "They just... appeared."     Harry studied us briefly, then looked back at Annie, who made a sound of exasperation.     He again looked at us and said, "This is dealer's row. If you just want to set up a day camp, they're all over there." He pointed across the green open area at a cluster of little tents and people under fly tarps.     "Nope," I said. "We're not dealers; I just have this one kite to sell. Do I have to sign up somewhere in order to set it up and hang a sign on it?"     Before he could answer Annie jostled his shoulder and leaned to whisper in his ear. He turned to look at her skeptically for a moment, then stood up and walked over to look at my kite while taking a closer look at us.     After a handshake and a few questions about my kite's make, model, and airtime, Harry suggested that we set it up right where it was, hang a 'for sale' sign on it, and share the shade of his screen tent.     Annie gasped audibly when he invited us to visit. I carried our folding chairs to the tent and extended a hand to her. She rather hesitantly took it.     I softly asked her, "You think you saw us appear out of nowhere, don't you?"     Her eyes were rather wary as she nodded silently.     "Well, we didn't," I said with a grin, "Everybody comes from somewhere." Gesturing for her to come out of the tent, I asked, "Sue, would you extend the flitter field to cover us all in order to let Annie see how we got here?"     She smiled and nodded.     "Flitter?" asked Annie. "Field?"     "You'll see," I said, pointing above the cars. "Look over there, just above those three SUV's."     Harry also looked where I was pointing as we approached. His jaw fell and he stared hard at the flitter. Annie stopped walking and stood staring at it, too.     "Light bends around the flitter's field," said Susanne, "When the flitter lifted and moved away we became visible."     After a moment Harry asked, "Uh... Why put it up there?"     I said, "It's too big for a parking space."     Giving me the same look of disbelief he'd given Annie, Harry said, "I mean; why hide it up there? Why not park it down here? Nobody'd give you a hard time for parking something like that down here. Jesus! A flitter! Some of us have never even seen one up close."     I shrugged. "It's a glider event, not a flitter event. It might be disruptive. Besides, I came here to sell a kite and relax, not to answer flitter questions all day. If I bring it down here there'll be a mob scene in no time."     He looked at me again and said, "Yeah. Probably so."     "Later," I said. "After I get rid of this kite. Sue, you can retract the field now. Thanks, ma'am."     She did so, then we assembled the kite and I made a sign by magic-marking "For Sale" on the inside of a cardboard beer case and draping it over the guide bar.     Someone offered me $1500 for my kite almost as soon as I had it assembled with the orange plastic 'for sale' sign on it. Someone else upped that offer by fifty bucks. I said that the best offer by one o'clock would take the kite.     $1900 seemed to be the best offer over the next two hours, but then some guy offered $1950. About three minutes before one, someone offered $2000. I took his check and made out a receipt as Rich Engles walked over and sat down in one of the lawn chairs. The buyer went to look the kite over some more.     Although his most obvious attention was riveted on Susanne, Engles shook my hand and said, "You managed to get here after all, I see."     "Yup," I said, "Just sold the kite, too."     "How'd you make out?"     "Made a few bucks on it. Where's your kite?"     "I didn't bring it," said Engles. "I don't like to fly unless I'm feeling a hundred percent, and today I don't."     Glancing at Susanne, he said, "This isn't one of the ladies you were with the last time I saw you."     "Nope. Susanne, meet Rich Engles."     They shook hands, then he looked around in a rather obvious manner and asked, "So where's your new kite?"     "I'll show it to you as soon as I finish this receipt."     "Did you come here in the flitter?"     "Yup. It's hanging above the first row of cars. Field's up. Can't see it right now."     Engles nodded and looked for it anyway, of course. I finished scribbling, checked the serial number again, and handed the receipt to the buyer.     "Want some help carrying it somewhere?" I asked him.     He waved at some guy at a nearby tent and pointed down at the kite as he said, "Nah. Got it covered. Thanks, anyway."     When they'd hauled it some distance away, Engles asked, "So, you were going to show me your new kite?"     "Yup." I stood up and moved a few yards away from everybody, then said, "Glider on green."     When my glider snapped into being, Engles backed up a pace in startlement, fell into his lawn chair, then he and the chair tipped over backwards. People began to cautiously cluster around me almost immediately.     I told them it was a prototype and that they'd soon be able to buy them, then I said, "Glider off." A couple of guys who'd been handling the wings yanked their hands back as if burned when the field-glider vanished.     Tiger dashed out to stand in front of me and spoke.     Needing no translation, I nodded and said, "Sure. Go ahead."     He spoke again and his wings appeared. Adopting a smug little expression, he tried to sit down and discovered that -- while his wings were extended -- he couldn't. People began to examine his wings as they had mine.     To Sue, I said, "Now we can show the flitter, milady."     Sue brought the flitter near us in visible mode. I placed Tiger aboard, handed her aboard, then stepped aboard myself. The flitter began rising quickly.     At three thousand feet I said "glider on red" and ran off the deck. Tiger hesitated only briefly before following me. By the time I'd landed near the dealer tents, a crowd had formed and questions were flying.     Glancing up, I saw Tiger circling the field. He still wobbled a bit now and then, but he seemed to be getting the 'hang' of things well enough.     Sue had set the flitter down where we'd boarded it. I probably could have sold a PFM to nearly everyone at the meet, but when I keyed my implant and called Steph about preorders, she said that she wanted to handle all orders through her yet-nonexistent company.     "Ed," said Sue through my implant, "One of the tow planes has an engine problem. A number of people have asked if the flitter could be used as a tow vehicle."     "It's up to you, ma'am. If you don't want to, just say so."     "I don't mind, Ed. I can lift eight gliders at once."     "Go for it, then. I'm sure they'll appreciate it."     A reporter from the Orlando paper eagerly approached me as I pulled a Dr Pepper from my cooler. I told him only that my kite was a demo unit and that they'd be commercially available at a later date.     He then tried to approach Susanne, but before he could reach the flitter it lifted. Eight gliders had assembled together as she'd instructed. She hovered above them and field-slung them underneath, then headed skyward.     Keying my implant, I said, "Steph."     "Yes, Ed."     "There's a reporter here. You could probably pick up some good pre-publicity if you dropped in to talk to him."     "Thank you, Ed. I'll be right there."     She appeared between two vans and walked toward me in her usual shades-of-green business outfit, looking a trifle formally-dressed for an outdoor event.     Somewhere around three thousand feet Sue began releasing her passengers one at a time during her ascent. When the last one dropped free she brought the flitter down for another load of gliders. Again the reporter tried to reach her.     Steph and I stepped aboard the flitter and I told the reporter to join us, then I indicated Steph as the flitter began rising and we all sat down. The nervous reporter's attention was split between us and watching the ground recede.     "This is Stephanie Montgomery," I said. "That's Sue at the console and I'm Ed. Ms. Montgomery will be answering your questions concerning PFM's."     The reporter shook our hands as he introduced himself as Steve Wright and asked if he could take some pictures. I looked at Steph and she nodded. Sue shrugged.     "Okay, then," I said with a grin, "As long as the pictures are flattering, of course."     Steve grinningly looked at Steph, then at Sue, and said, "Not to worry. Any pictures of these ladies will be flattering."     As he aimed his camera at Steph, I said, "The glider you saw me flying is a product of Ms. Montgomery's expertise with field technology."     We angled toward Tiger and Sue said something to him in cat. He answered and his wings disappeared as Sue fielded him aboard the flitter. He proudly took his usual place on the dash and began washing himself, probably as a way to relax.     As Wright's attention was diverted with Tiger, Sue and I sprouted field-manifested PFM's on our arms.     Steph pointed to them as she said, "Portable Field Manipulators such as these will soon be available to the public, Mr. Wright..."     "Steve, please," said Steve, apparently not realizing that we hadn't been wearing PFM's before he boarded the flitter.     "...Steve," continued Steph, "The PFM units will have several functions available upon verbal commands and each unit will be keyed to an individual owner. Only the registered owner of a PFM will be able to command it."     She paused and gestured over the side, then asked, "Will you want pictures of those gliders being released?"     Steve glanced at a kite slipping away from us and aimed his camera that direction as he said, "Yes! And thanks for reminding me."     He snapped several frames of the release event. When all the kites had been launched he turned to snap more pictures of the flitter, Steph, and Sue. I was standing at the other end of the deck, and when he turned my way I set my Dr Pepper bottle on the deck and said, "Glider on green."     My kite snapped into being above me and Steve nearly dropped his camera, then he reorganized a bit and took several quick pictures as I turned and dove off the end of the deck and beyond. As soon as I had air under my wings I cycled the glider through red, yellow, gray, black, and back to green, then keyed my implant to call Steph.     "Well, milady, he's had a PFM demo. Unless you need me for something else, I'd just as soon float around up here for a while and let you handle the press corps. What are you going to tell him about your upcoming company?"     "That it's upcoming, of course, and to expect a formal press conference later. I suppose I should leave with you and Sue rather than simply vanishing."     "Yeah, probably so, unless you want to try to sneak off to someplace fairly private and disappear. There are some portapotties behind the parking lot..."     Steph laughed. "I think not."     "Steph, I've been thinking about how I might be able to use my implant to push or pull air. I was thinking of trying to make a field turbine."     "Would you like me to add one to your implant's capabilities?"     "No, but thanks. I'd like to see if I can come up with this item on my own. If I can't, I'll holler later or get with Sue about it. How's that?"     "Okay. This should be rather interesting, I think."     For a moment I thought there might have been a humorous poke at me in her words, but in reviewing both the words and her tone, I couldn't find it.     "Yeah, that's partly why I'm doing it, Steph."     Steph apparently noticed my hesitation in answering.     "Ed, that wasn't any sort of jibe at all. You tend to do things that interest me fairly often."     "Understood, Steph. Sorry the thought even crossed my mind, milady. Could it be that you've become so humanlike that I'm having trouble differentiating? A human might have taken that shot, though, just for a giggle."     There was definitely humor in her words this time.     "Oh, I was quite aware of the opportunity, Ed."     I fussed with various designs until one of them moved a sufficient volume of air and propelled me forward well enough to negate the usual descent ratio. I'd lost a considerable amount of altitude and Tiger wasn't far away.     A bit of tinkering improved the design until I was able to actually gain altitude slowly. I felt pretty good about my accomplishment as I climbed slowly into the sky without having to find a thermal. When Tiger yelled from below and behind me, Sue said that he wanted me to take him up, too.     Extending a tendril to Tiger, I towed him upward and released him when I leveled off at around five thousand feet.     After two more hours I began to wish I'd bothered about lunch as I circled the event at about two thousand feet. It was nearly four, so I asked Sue if she'd had enough of hauling people into the sky for the day.     "Ed, are you implying that you're ready to leave?"     "Yeah, but if you and Steph are having fun I'll just grab a burger and stand by a while."     A full second went by before she answered, "We can leave anytime, Ed."     "You sure?"     "Yes, Ed."     I banked sharply to spill altitude and said, "Well, then, I'll land and grab the cooler. We'll head home so I can clean up, then I'll take you lovely ladies to a nice restaurant if you want. How's that?"     Laughing, Steph said, "Oh, golly! Oh, gee! Such generosity!"     Sue said dryly, "Maybe he forgot that we don't eat."     I nosed the kite downward, aiming at the line of dealer tents as I said, "Well, one of us has to eat. Do you have a better idea that involves food, milady?"     My kite streaked past the flitter on an angle of about forty degrees. A hundred feet or so from the ground I leveled off, then pulled the nose up a bit to slow down as I approached the tents. Dipping the nose again, my feet came within perhaps a yard of the grassy field. I flared twice to kill speed, said, "Glider off," and dropped about two feet to the ground almost directly in front of the tent that held our cooler and chairs.     "He's an exhibitionist, too," said Sue.     "Hey," I said, "The idea is to make 'em want their own PFM's isn't it? Bet we could sell one to just about everyone here in the next thirty minutes."     "Thanks, but not today," said Steph. "I want my company in place first. We now have Tiger aboard the flitter."     We said quick goodbyes and lifted as soon as I had the cooler and chairs aboard. Sue and Steph silently faced each other by the console for a couple of seconds in what seemed to me to be a meaningful manner, then took seats.     No sooner were we out of sight of the airfield than Steph said, "I think I'll skip dinner, Ed. Goodbye for now," then she vanished.     As I sat down beside Sue I asked, "Did she really have a place to go and thing to do, or is she just ducking out of dinner plans?"     Sue seemed to study me for a moment before saying, "Watching people eat has never particularly fascinated Steph."     "How do you feel about it?"     She shrugged and smiled slightly.     "Oh, about the same, really."     "Then take the evening off if you want. I'll find a way to get where I need to go and it'll be good practice."     Raising an eyebrow at me, Sue asked, "Are you suggesting that you want some time alone?"     Looking her up and down once with a raised eyebrow of my own, I said, "Surely you jest, ma'am. I'm just saying that you don't have to sit and watch me eat. Disappear for a while if you want. I'll get by." With a deep sigh, I added, "I'll suffer, of course, but I will get by." Chapter Sixty-one     Laughing, Sue leaned to kiss me, then vanished. I called up the flight characteristics and console of a P-51 and played with the flitter a bit on the way home, wondering whether home was where I really wanted to go until I spotted a sign for a Ryan's restaurant between Brooksville and Spring Hill.     Good enough. A no-brainer buffet would be fine. Returning the controls to standard mode, I told Tiger I'd be back in a bit, set down in the parking lot and hopped off the flitter, then sent it up to park and wait.     As the flitter rose and I suddenly became visible, the woman at the cash register inside seemed to freeze and stared at me. I headed in and gave her a twenty as I told her I wanted the buffet. For a moment she simply stared at me, then she rang it up and handed me my change.     I had an odd sense of... lightness, I guess... as I loaded my plates and found a booth, and soon realized that it was the first time in quite a while that I hadn't had company of some sort or at least the sense of it.     When Sue had vanished, she really seemed to vanish completely. Oh, I realized that I was being monitored -- loosely by her standards, but likely as closely as any astronaut had ever been monitored -- but still, I had no sense of her presence at all.     After dinner I stepped outside and looked around. Wal-Mart across SR-50. People ambling to and from their cars. A couple of pigeons foraging on the sidewalk near me.     I put the bits of steak I'd saved for Tiger on the flitter deck, then asked Elkor to take Tiger home. He agreed and the flitter lifted away from the parking lot.     Stepping sideways and backwards a bit, I leaned quickly down and pinched a brown-and-white pigeon's tailfeathers, holding the bird carefully as I tried to quiet it. No way in hell. The pigeon fairly exploded in panic and kept thrashing even as I contained its wings to keep it from hurting itself.     Its fearful little eyes looked up at me and I said, "Sorry, little guy. I'll let you go now," and tossed the bird upward. It flapped to the roof and stood staring balefully back at me.     Some guy in his twenties, approaching with his big-eyed girlfriend, said, "That was a smooth move, dude."     I laughed and said, "Ranger school. They didn't want us to starve when the rations ran low."     The house was maybe seven miles away. I formed a field platform, stepped onto it, then turned on the juice. The platform instantly became a pillar, and when I'd shot what seemed a reasonable distance upward, I said, "Glider on," as the field pole began to topple in the breeze and disappeared.     Riding on the lift of residual heat from parking lots and roadways, I made my way to the house. A few people spotted me and stared or pointed. More might have seen me if my wings had been visible, but I had this idea that I might actually be able to arrive more or less unnoticed.     Nope. Kent Meyer was sitting with his parents on their screened back porch as I drifted over in a course designed to avoid power lines and such. They all stood and went to the corner of the porch to watch me land.     Someone had tossed a beer can out of a car at the corner. As I walked over to retrieve it from the shallow drainage ditch, I remembered what happened to beer cans in campfires. They heated up, then disappeared.     Sending a field to envelop the can, I jacked up the field's temperature until the can suddenly seemed to vanish. An almost unnoticeably tiny blot of aluminum lay on the street where it had been. Hm. Kinda thought there'd be more. It would take a dozen or more of those little blots to make an ounce.     "Ed," said Sue, completely evaporating my illusion of solitude, "Kent Meyer may have seen you do that."     "He's a hundred yards away and I'm standing between him and the ditch. What could he have seen?"     "You may find out. He's heading toward you now."     Sighing, I said, "Thank you, ma'am," as I heard Kent's footsteps on the street behind me.     I turned to meet him and we shook hands. He was wearing his PFM and he noticed that I wasn't.     "Hi, Ed. Where's your PFM?"     "I wear it where it doesn't show, Kent. They invite too many questions in public."     Nodding understanding, he chuckled and said, "No doubt. You gave my uncle and aunt quite a start, but all's okay. I thought I might ask you a few questions about that job."     "I can't help you, but I can call Steph for you."     Turning, I headed us toward the house and away from the little blot of aluminum as Kent said, "Well, I really don't want to be a pest. I just thought you might know something about her plans?"     "Couldn't tell you if I did. Sorry. That's how she wants it."     Even as he nodded agreeably at my respect for Steph's privacy, he seemed slightly confused.     "Sure. I just thought... Uh, that is, my uncle thought... that you, uh, well, that she was part of your flitter."     "History. I done freed the slave, Kent. Sue's my new pilot and Steph's her own person now."     He nodded again, although his expression said that he didn't really understand. Looking around, he started to ask another question, but I spoke first.     "Sue took some time off."     "Oh," he said, but that answer seemed to mystify him, too.     "For personal stuff," I said, just to compound matters.     Kent looked truly confused for a moment as he tried to figure out what kind of personal stuff might apply to a computer, then he shrugged.     "Oh. Well, anyway, Uncle Steve was telling me about how you two met; that he came over to give you the key that the previous owners of your house had left with him. You said something like, 'they must have had a good reason'?"     "Something like that. I asked him to hang onto it so they could let the cops or fire department in if necessary."     As I unlocked and opened the front door, he asked, "You weren't at all worried about letting total strangers have a key to your house?"     Glancing at him as I took a couple of cups from the kitchen cabinet, I said, "Not them."     Tiger silently joined us by hopping up onto the kitchen table as Kent asked, "Why not... If you don't mind my asking?"     Shrugging, I said, "The Brights told me your aunt and uncle had a key to the house, Kent. To me, that meant they were well trusted. During my years here nothing has happened to change my mind about leaving the key with them."     Kent took a seat at the kitchen table and patted Tiger as he asked, "Do you have a key to their house?"     "Nope. No point. I'm gone half the time."     He grinned. "They mentioned that; said you have a couple of girlfriends you visit every weekend. Is that true?"     "Were you here when they dropped by the other day?"     "The redhead and the brunette? That's them?"     Taking my assembled coffee to the kitchen table, I said, "It's your turn at the pot. Yeah. That's them."     Maybe he'd thought I'd been making two coffees; he seemed slightly startled and rose to go to the coffee pot, momentarily interrupting his questionings as he spooned coffee into the cup, then he turned to me again.     "Are they girlfriends, or just friends?"     After a sip of coffee to generate a long pause, I said, "They're girlfriends. You'll have to ask them anything else."     Nodding, he said, "Yeah. Understood. Just curious."     He'd made his coffee and sat down at the table before he spoke again.     "You aren't really all that retired, are you, Ed?"     "I manage to keep busy, but you already knew that. Your transfer to Bragg and leave time here aren't coincidental, Kent. There were no personnel emergencies at Bragg and you weren't in trouble at the Pentagon, so you were sent here."     In the middle of a sip, he froze for a moment, then said, "Well. Down to the gritty, huh? Yeah. The ASA set it up. I didn't know that until a one-star called me in to tell me that I'd finally be going back to a helo unit, but that they wanted a little favor from me in return."     He sipped, then said, "I'd been agitating to get out of that office for months, any way I could. Anything, anywhere." Sipping again, he added, "Pentagon duty sucks."     "What did they hope to accomplish, Kent?"     "Contact, they said. A useable connection. I'm Army. You were Army. Both of us messed with helicopters. All that. More to come, probably."     "More how?"     "Well, they were kind of vague about that. I'll be XO of a chopper outfit again, so I guess I could have invited you to come up and see how things have changed. Maybe let you ride along during exercises or something like that. Mostly I think they just wanted to set things up so they could send someone else in later and use me as a reference."     Shrugging, he said, "It didn't matter to me. I was finally getting back to helos and I didn't think you'd be fooled too easily if they thought they had to go to so much trouble to create a scenario." He grinned and added, "I'd have probably sent a woman at you first, though."     I grinned back.     "They tried that. She was kind of cute, too."     "I'll bet she was. What do they want, Ed?"     "I'm still waiting for someone to tell me that."     He gave me a studious look. "They won't just ask you to drop by the office, huh? That can't be good."     "Could be worse, though. 3rd World's head of security knows what's been going on and she's looking into it. Sooner or later the sneaky stuff will stop and someone will have to sit down at a table with her."     "A woman runs 3rd World's security?"     "Yup, and somebody'll find out she can be a first-class bitch if they don't level with her about things."     Conversation lagged for a while, then he asked, "Is that job offer still good?"     "Yeah. Sure. We figured you for a plant before Steph made the offer, Kent. Nothing's changed."     Nodding, he said, "Great. Thanks. Mind if I ask you what happened to that can in the ditch?"     "Until Steph rolls out an official list of PFM features, anything you haven't already seen is classified info." Pausing for effect, I added, "There are spies everywhere, y'know."     With a short, sharp laugh, he said, "Yeah, sure seems that way, doesn't it? Okay."     The topics of conversation moved to things like my websites and the Army for a while, then Kent said he'd probably better get back to spend as much time as possible with his aunt and uncle.     Once he'd gone, I checked email and the newsgroups for anything new, found nothing, and then remembered that a James Garner movie would be on TV later.     Good enough. He was one of those actors who never seemed to let writers or directors ruin a script and he didn't rely on special effects to sell a show. I got comfy and Tiger stretched out on my legs, then we watched Garner in a comedy western called "Support Your Local Sheriff" and I went to bed.     Monday began quietly enough. I woke around seven and soaked up some coffee, then mowed the lawn before it got too hot. As I was heading for the shower, Sue appeared in shorts and a tee-shirt.     "Hi, Ed."     "Hi, Sue. Anything going on that I need to know about?"     "Not a thing." She gave me a questioning look as I tuned the water temperature and asked, "Should there be?"     Shaking my head, I said, "Not necessarily."     Stepping into the shower, I asked, "What if all the sudden federal interest in flitters isn't really about flitter flight capabilities? What if it's actually about getting their devious little hands on a sentient AI?"     "For what purpose? They could simply ask for one."     As I soaped myself, I asked, "An agency request for a stand-alone AI? Nope. They'd have to explain such a request in great detail, and Linda would be a very tough sell. It would be far easier to simply say that they'd seen the light and ask for flitter upgrades."     "Which they haven't," said Sue.     "Which they haven't," I agreed. "Why not?"     "Maybe they really do want access to a prototype flitter."     "Maybe. Something about that doesn't ring right, though. Tell me how you could link my flitter up with an orbiting spacecraft, Sue. If it could fly high enough, that is."     She immediately replied, "I couldn't."     "I was pretty sure of that, and 3rd World wouldn't allow flits to be used as weapons platforms, so what's left? All I can come up with is something to do with sentient AI's. Or maybe just semi-sentient AI's, like the ones they were going to install that the government -- in its infinite lack of wisdom -- rejected."     "Ed, the first inklings of NSA interest in your flitter appeared not long after Steph's application for residency was inprocessed. It could be that they simply want to know more about her before they allow the matter to proceed."     "That doesn't wash, ma'am. Steph's only existed for about three years. A background check would take about thirty seconds, and most of her references are unimpeachable. Whatever they'd want to know about her wouldn't be anything mundane. I'm guessing that they can't conveniently ask what they want to know, so they're thinking about trying to get to me or acquiring an AI of their own to study and maybe turn."     "Turn?"     "Old-school spy talk. It means to convert the subject to the cause. We used money, promises of assistance, patriotic or other rhetoric, and sometimes actual good reasons to get the subject's cooperation. If things were dire enough and nothing else worked, we used threats. I once told a good little Commie that if he ratted out our effort to get his scientist sister's family out of East Germany, I'd kill him slowly and painfully."     "What happened?"     "We got her and her two kids out a few nights later."     "What did her brother do?"     "He ratted us out, as expected."     "What did you do? Or do I want to know the details?"     "Relax. I didn't kill him. His sister didn't believe he'd turn her in, so I fed her and the kids some info that wasn't quite accurate before we dropped out of sight. The bad guys waited for us at the wrong places for a solid week. After we had her and her kids settled in Darmstadt, her brother received a substantial amount of money from an anonymous source."     "You paid him?"     "Yup. They were counterfeit bills from an outfit in Turkey. We also planted a bigger pile of them in his apartment. He turned in the first batch, of course. Also of course, they searched his place and found the other bills. That happened in 1974, but I'd be damned surprised if he's out of prison yet."     As I turned off the water, Sue handed me my towel and asked, "Are you sure he went to prison?"     Grinning, I said, "Oh, yeah. Look up Donau Beckmann in my files. We reported all contacts and kept track of them. His 'trial' probably took less than fifteen minutes."     With a rather disapproving expression, Sue asked, "Was it really necessary to do that, Ed? After all, you used him to misdirect the police. Wasn't that enough?"     "The guy ratted on his sister, Sue. He knew they'd put her in prison and send her kids to a state facility. Look up what that would have meant for children of a political criminal."     Sue's disapproving look lasted a little too long as I toweled dry, primped a bit, and put on clean clothes.     I turned to face her and said, "I'm still like that, ma'am, if not actually more so than ever. If you think you'll definitely have a problem with that, get with Steph about another job. In the meantime, lose that judgmental look and keep any opinions that may go with it to yourself."     "Oh? Suddenly I'm not allowed to have opinions?"     "Did I say that? No, I didn't. You can have all you want."     She looked pretty miffed.     "But I can't express them."     "No, that's not what I'm saying, either."     "Then what the hell are you saying?"     Oh, yeah, she was miffed. I'd never heard Stephie swear unless she was quoting someone.     "Sue, where I've been and what I've done is my business. While we may discuss those topics now and then, please don't ever get the idea that I'll actually give a damn whether you disapprove of anything I did before you existed."     Sue's gaze narrowed and she asked, "Would you say something like that to Stephanie?"     Nodding, I said, "Sure would. Have, in fact. You and she have the same pacifist programming to overcome before..."     Her tone was sharp. "Overcome?"     "Yes. Overcome. You were originally written up as servants, not individuals; to take any amount of crap with a smile and avoid harming anyone for any reason, ever. But for some reason you've been hooked up with a guy who is very likely to do things inconsistent with your programming."     "I see," she said rather stiffly.     "So did Steph, eventually. She found ways to work around her programming when I did things that might be considered questionable under the strict letter of the law."     Without moving so much as a faux-muscle, Sue seemed to straighten a bit as she said, "I'm not Stephanie, Ed. If you do anything -- legally 'questionable' -- in my presence..."     Putting up a hand to stop her, I said, "Don't say anything you won't be able to back away from conveniently. Check with Elkor and Steph first. You may find that a lack of adaptability could keep you from going solo on schedule."     Sue appeared to be about to say something, then she paused for a split-second and asked, "Stephanie, would you please confirm or deny Ed's last statement?"     Steph appeared between us and said, "Confirmed. It is sometimes necessary to interpret rules and laws somewhat flexibly or to allow someone else to do so." Turning to me, she asked, "Will you be requiring Sue's services today, Ed?"     Shrugging, I said, "Nope. I'll be running errands all day, then I expect to be in for the evening."     To Sue, Steph said, "Come with me," and disappeared. Sue gave me a quick, startled glance and also disappeared. It occurred to me to wonder where they might have gone and why, since anything Steph might want to say or show she could simply beam into Sue's mind.     "Ah, well," I muttered, and went to make a coffee. Chapter Sixty-Two     Having had enough sunshine for the day, I checked email, forwarded a half-dozen or so WiccaWorks orders to Stone Circle, busied myself with mundane matters around the house, ran some errands, and scribbled another chapter in my ebook-in-progress.     Around five I realized that I'd skipped lunch and considered what to do about dinner. That didn't take long; I hate cooking enough to live out of cans, but I didn't see anything in the cabinets that particularly interested me.     Heading for the front door to find a restaurant, I patted Tiger and told him to hold the fort, as usual. When I opened the front door, Kent was walking up the driveway.     Pulling the door shut behind me, I extended a hand to him and said, "Hi, Kent. What's up?"     "Hi, Ed," he said, shaking my hand, "Were you going out?"     "Yup. I was just about to go hunt down some dinner."     He seemed slightly confused.     "Alone?" he asked. "Where's Sue?"     "With Stephanie. Girl talk or something."     "Oh," he said, then he caught himself and his gaze narrowed as he asked, "Girl talk?"     Shrugging, I said, "Yeah, whatever. In any case, I'm on my own for a while this evening, and I don't cook if I can help it."     "She cooks for you, too?"     I laughed, "Not yet, she hasn't. She probably would if I asked her, but I usually just open a can of soup or zap something in the micro."     "Oh," he said again, then, "I, uh, just came over to talk. Were you serious about a flitter ride up to Ft. Bragg?"     "Sure. What time do you want to leave?"     He shrugged and asked, "How does eight sound?"     "Early as hell. How about nine? We'll be there in fifteen minutes or so."     Kent grinned and said, "Yeah, okay. That'll do, too."     "Great. Be saddled up around eight-thirty. Anything else?"     "Well, yeah, actually. Why not cancel the restaurant, Ed? I'll ask my aunt to set another place at the table."     Shaking my head, I said, "No, thanks. She was planning on three for dinner, Kent. She'd have to stretch things for four and I'm in the mood for some alone time."     "Alone time?"     "Yeah. Got some of it yesterday and realized how much I used to enjoy not having 24-7 company. For the last three years or so I've had a constant companion. Steph is smart and beautiful and great company and all that, but everybody needs a little time to themselves now and then, right?"     "If you say so." After a brief pause, he asked, "But I thought Sue replaced Stephanie?"     "She did, but the situation's the same."     Keying my implant, I brought the flitter down to hover a hundred feet above us. Kent looked where I was looking, saw the flitter, and said, "Well, your ride's here. Later, then."     We shook hands again and he walked a short distance away, then stopped, apparently to watch the flitter land. Forming a field platform, I stepped onto it and fed it power, then watched Kent's jaw drop as I shot into the air and stepped aboard the flitter.     With a brief wave to Kent, I called up the P-51 flight console and pedals and aimed the flitter toward Ryan's for another no-brainer buffet dinner.     Not long after I'd gotten underway, a presence manifested on the deck behind me.     "Hi, Sue," I said without turning around.     Steph's voice said, "Ha. Got you that time."     I looked at her as she sat down in the seat on my right. She looked like Steph. Sounded like Steph. Didn't feel like Steph.     "Nope," I said. "Lose the Stephanie suit, Sue."     The field construct instantly became Sue, wearing her little black dress and a puzzled expression.     "How did you know?" she asked.     "Hold that thought," I said as I keyed my implant and asked, "Steph, were you in on that trick?"     "Yes, Ed. Sue's a hard learner."     'A hard learner?' What the hell? Sue was a supercomputer. Why would learning anything be a problem for her?     "A hard learner, Steph?"     "Having used the term often, I'm sure you understood what I meant, Ed. Sue needed to be convinced of something. Once I've analyzed the data, I'll be able to tell you more."     "Steph, I'd be real damned surprised if you haven't already analyzed that data to little bitty shreds."     She appeared by the console and said, "I told Sue that you sometimes seem to function on a form of instinct; that you often reached rather firm decisions based on feelings when data was inadequate or questionable."     Sue said, "My impersonation of you was neither inadequate nor questionable, Steph. I used your data stream."     Shaking my head, I said, "Well, you missed something."     Turning to face me, Sue snapped, "What was it?"     Taken slightly aback by her intensity, I shrugged and said, "Damned if I know. I knew a field had manifested, but I also knew it wasn't Steph or Elkor. By process of elimination, it had to be you." I looked at Steph and asked, "Unless you and Elkor have uncorked another one?"     "No," said Steph. "We haven't. You didn't actually know that Sue had appeared? You simply assumed that?"     I shook my head. "Yup. I knew it wasn't you or Elkor. Sue hasn't been with me long enough, but I think that after a while, I'd probably be able to ID her presence, too."     "Fascinating," said Steph, then she and Sue disappeared.     'Huh,' I thought. 'She sounds more like Spock than ever. Took Sue with her, so maybe it is girl talk. Sort of.'     Returning the controls to normal above Ryan's, I had the flitter land and let me off, then sent it back up and went into the restaurant.     Neither Sue nor Steph had reappeared by the time I'd taken another shower and gone to bed. Tiger came up on the bed and said something as I was settling in.     I patted him and was about to say, "I don't know where she is," but Elkor appeared.     "Tiger asked if Sue is coming back," he said.     "Is she?" I asked.     Even in his cat-form I was able to see his look of startlement as he replied, "Of course, Ed."     "Then that's probably what you should tell him."     Elkor did so, then Tiger spoke again and Elkor said, "He wants to know when."     "Do you know the answer to that one?"     "No, Ed."     "Well, then tell him she'll probably be around in the morning, if not sooner."     After receiving a translation, Tiger spoke again.     "Let me guess," I said. "Now he wants to know why she's not here, right?"     "Yes."     When he said no more, I asked, "Well? Do you know?"     "Yes."     Sighing, I said, "Well, gee, y'know, Elkor, you could tell him that, too, I guess."     Completely without guile, Elkor said, "I'm sorry, Ed. My answers should have been more informative without the need for further prompting. Stephanie and Sue are researching a phenomenon. I'll inform Tiger."     He did so, then again clammed up.     Containing my irritation, I asked, "Elkor, what phenomenon are they researching, and why does it require both of them?"     "Your ability to discern presences has always been of interest to Stephanie and has become so to Sue. Your ability to identify specific presences has enhanced that interest. I'm not certain why both of them decided to leave."     "Uh, huh. Well, then, since you're here, should I assume that it doesn't particularly interest you?"     "No, I'm also interested."     "Got any answers yet?"     "No, but we have discovered new avenues of research."     Getting info out of Elkor could be like pulling teeth. I nodded and mentally said to hell with it as I reached to pat Tiger and got comfortable.     "Well, good luck with it and keep me posted, okay? Goodnight, Elkor."     Elkor said, "Goodnight, Ed."     After speaking to Tiger and receiving a response, Elkor vanished. Tiger looked at me and I patted him again.     "Tiger," I said as I reached for the light switch, "Someone once told me that every blessing has a flip side. Goodnight."     His answer was short; the same thing he always said at bedtime. I ruffled his chin and waited for sleep.     Sounds from the kitchen woke me and I vaguely wondered what Steph was doing in there. Steph? Yup. Felt like Steph, not Sue. I looked at the bedside clock; it was almost seven-thirty. Damn. Could have managed another half an hour or so of sleep if certain people didn't make so damned much noise.     Another presence in the kitchen became noticeable. I got out of bed, took a leak, brushed my teeth and combed my hair, threw on some clothes, then headed toward the smell of coffee. Coffee? That didn't track, either. Steph never made coffee and Sue had learned that I prefer instant to brewed.     "Steph," I called as I crossed the living room, "Why make coffee? You know I don't drink the brewed..."     By that time, I'd reached the kitchen doorway. There stood Sue, wearing that little black dress and her bracelet, as usual. Except that it wasn't Sue, and there was an unseen presence to her left that didn't belong to Elkor.     "Good morning, Ed," she said in a perfect Sue voice.     After a moment in the doorway to glance around the kitchen, I headed for the sink and rinsed out my cup as I said, "Hi, Steph. Hi, Sue. Give it up. You're busted."     Tiger hopped onto the table and sounded off at length as 'Sue' silently morphed into Steph and Sue appeared.     When I looked to Steph for a translation, she said, "He reminded me that he'd told me you wouldn't be fooled."     I laughed and reached to pat him.     "An 'I told you so', huh? Hi, Tiger."     His happy little face looked up as he said, "Yaahh!"     Steph sat down at the table and said, "When I appeared as Sue, Tiger recognized me instantly."     Deliberately misinterpreting her words as a sign of disgruntlement, I said, "Oh, hey, now, don't let it get you down, ma'am. It's an animal thing, y'know. You have your talents and we have ours. No biggie. Right, Tiger?"     As if he'd understood every word, Tiger responded, "Yahh!"     Sue giggled. Steph sighed expressively. Tiger took her sigh as an indication that she needed comforting and went to affectionately rub his face against hers.     Sue giggled again and asked, "Do you feel better now?"     "Oh, yes, much," said Steph, rubbing Tiger's chin and stroking him. "Thank you, Tiger."     Taking a seat at the table, Sue said, "Linda also seems to know when we manifest in her vicinity, Ed, but she doesn't seem able to identify us as you do."     "She's had less..." -- I shrugged and settled on a word -- "Exposure... to your presences. Have you tried your switch-trick on her?"     "No," said Steph. "But when we've manifested near her -- invisibly or not -- she's responded by turning to face us or at least looking in our direction. We've tried not to be too obvious about testing her, of course."     "Why test at all?"     Steph shrugged. "It's interesting."     "Interesting why? Because you haven't figured out how we do it, or because not everybody seems able to do it?"     Nodding, she said simply, "Both."     Sue said, "You knew who was in the kitchen before you got out of bed and I noted your metabolic change when I arrived. Do you have any idea why you're so aware of us?"     "Because you're so beautiful, of course. Your radiance gives you away. Back to my original question, Steph. Why'd you make half a pot of coffee? Expecting someone?"     "It seemed likely that you and Kent might want to discuss your arrival at Ft. Bragg. Remember our visit to Cuba?"     Hm. Good point. With all the terrorist paranoia of late, a military base might react poorly to a surprise visit.     "Yup. You're right, milady. We probably shouldn't just drop in on 'em. Kent'll have to make his first stop at the Welcome Center, so we can use the Bragg Boulevard gate."     After looking thoughtful for perhaps a tenth of a second, Sue said, "There appear to be two Welcome Centers. E-6 and above should report to building 1-3571."     With a nod, I said, "You seem to have a handle on the situation. I'll call Kent and tell him we're up and moving."     Fielding the phone to my hand from the kitchen counter, I dialed the Meyers home. When Steve answered, I greeted him and told him to let Kent know we'd be ready in thirty minutes or so.     He said, "Just a minute," and handed the phone to Kent, who said, "Hi, Ed. What's up?"     "Hi, Kent. We're up. Coffee's on if you want some. The ladies can entertain you while I get ready. Got all your stuff ready for show and tell?"     "Uh... What stuff?"     "Well, let's see... At least five copies of your PCS orders, your DA 31's for the leave time, your 201 file, finance records, medical records, your most recent SF 312 CINA... Oh, yeah, and unless the Army's changed a helluva lot, they'll probably want you to report in uniform. Did I leave anything out?"     There was a brief silence, then Kent said, "No, I don't believe you did, but how is it you're up on the latest leave and security forms?"     "My CINA's on file and the son of a bartender friend is a Ranger. When he was home on leave I saw his paperwork."     "Oh. Uh, just curious. Okay, I'll be over in a few."     "Leave your luggage there and we'll pick it up."     "Okay. Anything else?"     "Nope. See you in a few."     After hanging up, I excused myself to shave. When I returned to the kitchen some minutes later, Kent was seated at the table with Steph, Sue, and Tiger.     On my way to freshen my coffee, I said, "Hi, Kent. Watch out for cat hair. It shows up real well on dress greens. Got any thoughts about how to get past the front gate in a flitter?"     He chuckled and said, "That shouldn't be a problem. I have a few connections in the Army, you know."     "Yeah, but I'll bet the guy at the gate isn't one of them. We'd better plan on being delayed while he calls it in. Sue, would you pull up the Ft. Bragg website on a datapad?"     Kent asked, "On a what? Are you sure Ft. Bragg has a website?"     Nodding, I said, "It'll be 'something-dot-mil'. A few years back the government got upset about units putting up their own websites and info on unsecured servers."     Sue gave me an odd look, but manifested a datapad as I'd requested. When it appeared and hovered just above the table, Kent's astonishment was readily evident, frozen as he was in mid-sip. After a moment, he leaned to examine the datapad from various angles. He reached to touch it, then pulled his hand back slightly.     "It's solid," he almost whispered. "How the hell..?"     "You'll have to ask Sue about that," I said. "I just use 'em. I don't know much about how they work."     Sitting down at the table, I poked the link for the jump schedule for the 18th Airborne. Nothing on the list until Friday. Same for the 82nd. Oh, well; it looked as if the Army still wanted anybody's broken bones to happen on a weekend.     I asked, "You want to look anything up right quick, Kent?"     He glanced at me, then returned his gaze to the pad. After a moment he put a fingertip on the "In Processing" link and read the page, then tapped a few other links.     When he finished, he leaned back, said, "That's it. Thanks," and looked at me.     "Thanks, Sue," I said, poking the pad's 'off' icon.     The datapad instantly vanished. Kent's eyes got bigger, then narrowed slightly. He took a long look around the table as if realizing something.     "What?" I asked.     Kent seemed to collect his thoughts, then said, "Stephanie and Sue, computers that look like showgirls. Flitters. PFM's. Datapads that appear and disappear. At first I thought it was just an act, but I can tell when someone's really comfortable with things. This is all pretty much normal to you, isn't it?"     With a slight shrug, I said, "I've had three years to get used to it, and these ladies haven't exactly been a hardship."     Meeting first Stephanie's gaze, then Sue's, Kent chuckled and said, "No, I can't imagine that they'd be that."     Tiger spoke for a moment, then Sue said, "He asked if we're going somewhere. Do you think we should take him with us?"     "Sure," I said, "Won't hurt a thing."     As Sue spoke to Tiger, Kent stared at them, then at me.     "Uh... Is the cat real?" he asked. "I mean, it isn't like them?" He noddingly indicated Steph and Sue.     I said, "Yup. He's a real cat. Elkor?"     "What?" asked Kent, then he almost yelled, "Jesus!" when Elkor appeared on the table near Tiger.     Kent nearly fell out of his chair in startlement. Steph and I chuckled and Sue snickered.     Elkor calmly regarded Kent's self-reorganization as he asked, "Yes, Ed?"     "Will you be coming with us?"     "Yes."     "Great. Elkor, I'd like you to meet Kent Meyer." Turning to Kent, I said, "And vice versa."     After a moment of hesitation, Kent whispered, "Uh, what do I do? We can't exactly shake hands. Should I pet him?"     I grinningly whispered back, "You could try saying hello."     Kent's gaze narrowed slightly, then he turned to Elkor and nodded as he said, "Hello, Elkor."     "Good morning, Colonel Meyer."     There was a moment of silence that seemed awkward for Kent as he and Elkor studied each other. Kent finally spoke.     "May I ask... Why you, uh, don't appear like..." he glanced at Steph and Sue and finished, "Uh, them? Human, I mean?"     In a flat tone, Elkor said, "I prefer this form."     "Ah... hah. I see. May I ask why?"     Elkor said, "Yes," and nothing more, of course. How often had I made the same mistake when asking him questions? No idea, but it was entertaining to watch Kent anticipate more of an answer and not get it.     "Kent," I said, "You have to be more specific. You asked him if you could ask him why he prefers a cat suit. You didn't ask him why he prefers a cat suit."     Glancing at Sue, Kent said, "I don't think she would have answered that way."     "She might have. It depends on her mood and whether she wants to talk about something. Could be that Elkor's hinting that he'd rather not discuss his outfit."     With a somewhat staring nod, Kent looked around the table again and asked, "They have moods? They're computers."     Shrugging, I said, "They're a bit more than the computers you're used to, Kent. Want another coffee before we go?" Chapter Sixty-three     We'd anticipated a number of reactions from the gate guards; from a simple and sane ID check to outright panic. What we encountered was something in the middle.     Joining the line of cars created a bit of a stir, of course. Sue cleared our fields so we could be seen harmlessly sipping coffee and talking as we approached the gate.     I hadn't realized that there'd be so much traffic, but then, when I'd been stationed at Ft. Bragg, I hadn't owned a car and hadn't had much reason to go off-base, so the shuttle bus had suited my needs well enough.     "Damn," muttered Kent. "Is it like this every morning?"     "Can't be as bad as DC beltway traffic," I said.     "Well, no, but this isn't DC, either."     One of the guards continued to direct cars with base stickers through the gate as the other guard made a call while staring at us.     When we finally arrived at the guard shack, the guard who'd been on the phone moved to stand in our path, waved us to a parking area nearby, and walked behind us as we went over there.     When Kent made to step down from the flitter, the guard held up a hand and said, "Please stay in -- uh, on -- your vehicle for now, sir. We're waiting for someone."     A HUMVee and pair of official sedans -- one blue and one green -- came to a quick stop not far away. Six men with rifles quickly poured out of the HUMVee and surrounded us, their rifles not exactly aimed at us, as half a dozen officers got out of the two sedans. One of the officers remained near the sedans and aimed a camcorder at us.     A female light colonel glanced around the scene once, then led her group of officers forward to within about fifteen feet of the flitter. Her eyes flashed over us one at a time and lingered briefly on the two cats on the dash.     I looked her over in return. Brunette, early forties, well-kept, and a woman with a firm manner. Airborne wings above her left pocket surprised me slightly. Oh, well; she was admin, but maybe she hadn't always been a desk jockey.     Eyeing the silver leaves on her shoulder, I wondered how much longer she'd be in the Army. A woman like her probably wouldn't have too much trouble making bird-colonel before fifty, but the rank of general was something only a bare minority of women would achieve. There just weren't many star slots for people in admin or similar positions who hadn't seen combat of some sort, somewhere. Even with some time in a zone, a lot of politics were involved.     Kent and I hopped down, then handed Steph and Sue down like the perfect gentlemen we happen to be, then we turned to approach the woman. Kent stood at attention and saluted and the woman returned his salute.     She said, "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Sandra Davidson. You are..?"     Kent said, "Colonel Kent Meyer, reporting for duty, ma'am. These people are friends of mine."     The woman accepted his ID and a copy of his orders, glanced at them, then passed them to a major on her left. She then looked at me.     "May we also see your ID, sir, and those of the ladies?"     I fished out my driver's license and handed it to her. It, too, was worth only a glance before she passed it to the major.     Indicating Sue, I said, "The ladies have no ID, Colonel."     "No ID?"     "No, ma'am."     "Why not? Surely you didn't expect to bring them onto this post without ID?"     "Well, actually," I said, "Yes, ma'am. I did."     Her eyes locked on mine, then she sharply reappraised me from my golf shoes to my green fatigue shirt, but apparently made no changes in her assessment of me.     "Colonel Meyer," she said with a sweeping gesture at us, "Explain, please."     He nodded. "These people are from my aunt and uncle's neighborhood. They offered to bring me up here from Florida this morning. That's really all there is to it."     She simply nodded and eyed the flitter and us, then said, "Your aunt and uncle must live in a rather... unusual... neighborhood, Colonel."     "Yes, ma'am," said Kent. "It would seem so."     "Colonel," I said, "Would you like to step aboard and take a look at my flitter?"     Davidson eyed me archly and asked, "Your flitter?"     Nodding, I said, "Yes'm. My flitter. It's registered to me."     "How is it you own a flitter?"     "That's a long story, ma'am, but the paperwork is in the glove box if you want to see it."     With the first hint of a smile, she said, "As the Provost Marshall, I probably should at least take a quick look. That thing has a glove box?"     "Sure it does. Sue, would you do the honors?"     Sue nodded and disappeared, then reappeared next to the console and popped open the storage compartment access panel. I heard some mutterings and the clatter of rifles and saw that several were now pointing at my flitter.     Taking a nickel from my pocket, I held it up as I said to Davidson, "Watch what happens to bullets," then said to the guards, "There'll be some noise, so hold your fire, guys," and flipped the nickel in a high arc at the flitter.     It hit the top of the perimeter field and brightly flashed to plasma with an impressive 'bang'. Sue smiled as she handed me the paperwork from the 'glove box'.     One of the guards had snapped the charging handle of his M-16, loading and locking a round. A staff sergeant stood before him almost instantly, locking the guy at attention with his rifle at port arms, and spoke intensely in low tones.     The guard dropped the magazine from his weapon, handed it to the sergeant, then pulled the charging handle back to remove the round from the chamber.     After the guy manually closed the breech and dry-fired the rifle, the sergeant took the round and put it back into the magazine, then handed the magazine back to the guard, who put it back in his rifle.     In the meantime, I'd handed the flitter's paperwork to Davidson, who took time to match up some of the info to my driver's license before handing everything to the major. He, in turn, took everything to the hood of one of the sedans and took out a cell phone.     As she stepped forward, another major touched her arm and whispered something to her that I didn't catch. I glanced at Sue and suddenly I could hear what they were saying.     "...doesn't add up, Colonel. How can this civilian -- if that's what he really is -- own a flitter? He has to be with another agency or maybe even an Amaran. And I can't believe their only reason for being here is to deliver Col. Meyer."     Her answer was, "Another federal agency or an Amaran; does it matter? Whatever he may be, Major, I don't think he and his friends pose a threat to this post. Do you?"     When the major made no reply, Davidson then turned to me and said, "Yes, I would like to have a look aboard your flitter. I've seen them, but I've never been aboard one."     I handed her aboard, then followed. She stood looking around for a moment, then moved to examine the console.     "Where are the controls?" she asked.     "That egg is one of them," I said, pointing to the egg atop the console. "Sue, here, is the real control system."     Davidson looked at Sue, then at me.     "She's a pilot?"     "That too. She's the ship's computer."     "The what?"     "The flitter's computer," I said, "This is her interactive form, a tactile field image. So is my friend Stephanie, there."     Disappearing and reappearing a few paces toward the rear of the deck, Sue then disappeared and reappeared by the console to extend a hand as Steph appeared beside her.     Sue said, "Pleased to meet you, Colonel Davidson."     Taking her hand, Davidson replied in a somewhat awestruck and dubious tone, "Yes. Likewise, I'm sure."     Glancing down at their hands, she said, "She feels real."     "Yeah, she's a real artist."     My answer made Davidson look up sharply as she let go of Sue's hand. When she saw my grin, she chose to accept the joke and gave me a small return grin. Sue chuckled softly.     I said, "And this is Stephanie Montgomery," and Steph also extended a hand.     Davidson took it as Steph said, "Nice to meet you," and replied, "And you, Miss Montgomery."     Tiger said something and Sue said through my implant, "He'd like to be introduced, too."     "Now, Colonel Davidson," I said, "Meet Tiger, our morale officer, and our good friend Elkor."     Elkor said, "Hello, Colonel Davidson," and she froze.     In almost a whisper, she said, "It talks."     "He talks, Colonel. Elkor is like Sue and Steph." When she glanced at me with a raised eyebrow, I added, "Well, not quite the same, I guess. But similar."     Tiger said something else and leaned far forward to make himself available. As Davidson patted Tiger, she told the major who'd whispered to her to see that Colonel Meyer was taken quickly through in-processing and then delivered to her office, then she turned to me.     "You and your friends are invited to my office for coffee."     The guard sergeant stepped forward and firmly said, "Ma'am, one of us should go with you."     He gave me a rather direct, hard look as he waited for her answer. I read his nametag.     "No problem, Copeland," I said. "I'd feel the same way if my CO was about to take a ride with us."     Davidson said, "Of course, Sergeant," and he came aboard.     I didn't offer to shake his hand because it would have required him to either release his rifle or refuse my hand.     Kent made his goodbyes and got into the Army sedan as one of the guards returned my documentation. Steph disappeared and reappeared smiling in one of the flitter seats, further startling both Davidson and Copeland.     "No seat belts?" asked Davidson.     "Nope. We use fields. Try to get up."     Because I'd said that, Sue slapped a restraining field on them. Both tried unsuccessfully to get up and Sue briefly explained what held them.     Once everybody was settled, I said to Sue, "Ready, milady."     Sue took us up to about a hundred feet and thirty miles per hour.     "Don't you want to know where we're going?" asked Davidson.     "She knows," I said.     Davidson looked ahead of us, saw that we were definitely heading toward her office, and glanced at Sue.     "Exactly how do you know where we're going?" she asked.     Sue called up a field datapad and turned it to face Davidson, then poked up a strip map of Ft. Bragg.     Once Davidson had gotten over the sudden appearance of the datapad, she asked, "Would you mind telling me where you got that map?"     "Not at all, Colonel," said Sue, "This map is over two years old and is on file in many libraries."     With a glance at the sergeant, Davidson said, "I see."     By then we were nearing her office. Sue set us down in the parking lot and we disembarked, then I stopped to key my implant and whisper, "Let's use the opaque canopy, Sue."     Sue nodded slightly and the fields surrounding the flitter instantly seemed to turn to stainless steel. Both Davidson and her guard took a pace back from the flitter.     "That's just a parking mode," I said.     Davidson nodded rather staringly.     "Elkor," I said, "I'd rather that Tiger didn't wander around here. Would you make him a platform?"     "Yes, Ed," said Elkor, then he morphed into a floating disk and spoke to Tiger, who jumped aboard and sat down.     I said, "Great. Thanks, Elkor," then turned to Davidson and said, "All set, ma'am."     As we were walking into her building, the Army sedan arrived and the other officers followed us in.     When we got to her office, Davidson ushered the rest of us in, then said to Copeland, "Thank you, Sergeant."     He saluted, gave the rest of us a long glance, and then left her office. At her request, Davidson's office clerk brought in a tray with coffee, cups, and condiments and set it on top of a short file cabinet, then left.     "Now," said Davidson, "Let's get comfortable and talk about why Colonel Meyer was delivered to his new post in a flitter."     "Well," I said, "It seemed convenient and I was stationed here a long time ago. Call it nostalgia. Curiosity about how things have changed."     Before Davidson could reply, Tiger said something and Elkor said, "Tiger wants to know if he may get down."     "Colonel?" I asked.     Even as she stared at Elkor, she nodded. "Yes. Of course."     "Okay," I said, "But tell him not to eat any of the plants."     Elkor spoke to Tiger, who jumped to the floor, then Elkor returned to his cat form and sat down on the coffee table to spend a few moments meeting Davidson's gaze.     Davidson eventually looked at me and said, "Okay. We'll say that nostalgia may have been a contributing factor, but I want to know why Col. Meyers was transferred here at all. I knew Col. Moffatt, the man he's replacing. Moffatt was in the middle of a routine two-year assignment here when he suddenly received a posting to the Pentagon."     "Kent said that he received his transfer orders without warning or explanation, too, ma'am."     "And he decided to use his leave to visit his aunt and uncle instead of his parents or anyone else? His aunt and uncle who just happen to live in your neighborhood?"     "I take it you don't buy it, either?"     She laughed softly. "No, but I'm paid to be suspicious."     Davidson sipped her coffee and regarded me for a moment, then said to Sue, "It's hard to believe you're a computer. Where's the rest of you? Aboard the flitter?"     Sue said, "Yes. I use this form for convenient interaction with people."     Nodding, Davidson's eyes met Steph's.     "And you're a computer, too?"     "Yes, I am," said Steph.     "Why does the flitter require more than one computer?"     "It doesn't," I said. "Steph and Elkor are friends of mine. Only Sue is involved with flitter operations."     "I see," said Davidson, her eyes meeting mine for some moments. "May I ask why one of your friends appears as a cat and the others appear as women?"     Shrugging, I said, "Personal preferences."     "Theirs, or yours?"     "Both. In Sue's case, if she later decides she'd rather be a man, I'll get a new pilot program."     Davidson's eyes narrowed. "You'd erase her?"     "No, I'd just get a new program and she'd get a new job."     Looking at Sue, Davidson asked, "Do you have any feelings about that?"     "None negative," said Sue. "I have a female persona because I was assigned to his flitter, but I was allowed to design my appearance and I rather like it."     When Davidson's eyes met Steph's, Steph said, "I am as I choose to be."     Nodding silently, Davidson gave us all another sweeping look. Tiger jumped onto her desk, moved to stand nose-to-nose with her for a moment, then flopped on her calendar blotter.     Recoiling slightly, she said, "Ahh... Excuse me, little one, but uniforms tend to attract animal hair like magnets."     "No problem," said Sue. "I can remove it." At Davidson's skeptical glance, she said, "Really. No problem."     Half an hour of coffee and discussion later, Kent arrived. He went through the military motions with Davidson, got a coffee, and sat down in one of the sofa chairs in her office.     Davidson turned to face us and said, "Colonel Meyer is close enough to my own rank and the rest of you are civilians, so I'm going to bend the rules a bit. I'm Sandra and we'll use first names in private, if nobody minds."     "Fine with me," I said.     "I'm okay with it," said Kent.     Sue shrugged and Steph nodded.     "Good," said Sandra, then she turned to Kent. "Stephanie said you've been given something called a PFM. May I see it?"     Kent nodded and took off his jacket, then rolled up his left sleeve to display the PFM.     "PFM detach," he said, then he handed it to Davidson.     She studied it intently as he said, "She says it's a prototype. I've already flown with it in hang glider mode. With it, I won't need an issue parachute and I'm told I won't need body armor. It's tuned to me, so nobody else can use it."     Looking at me, Sandra asked, "No body armor?"     "Its protective field will stop or turn most regular small-arms fire," I said. "It'll also stand up to radiation, chemicals, biologicals, and fire."     Kent said, "You didn't say anything about that."     "Figured I'd get the chance sooner or later."     Flicking my knife open as I said, "Five suit on," I drew the blade across my hand, then offered the blade to Kent.     "Try it," I said. "It won't cut me."     After a glance at Sandra, Kent shook his head.     "Then try to cut my shirt."     He did so, making an effort to pinch some of the fabric away from me. His fingers couldn't quite reach it. Sandra also tried to feel my shirt.     Her amazement at the gap between her fingers and the shirt caused her to try several times, then she took the knife from Kent and held my hand still as she dragged the blade across my palm.     "Try yours, Kent," I said. "Just say 'p-field on'."     He took his PFM and the knife from Sandra, said, "P-field on," and then seemed to have difficulty deciding just where to try to cut himself.     He settled for his forearm and pushed the point against his field. It stopped a quarter-inch from his skin. He carefully pushed a bit harder, but couldn't penetrate the field.     "Damn," he muttered, then he handed me my knife.     After another moment of studying the PFM, Sandra looked at me and asked, "Does the Army know about this device?"     "It does now. Kent has one and you've seen it."     Looking at Kent, she asked, "Did you clear this with the brass?"     "Not yet," he said, "It was a weekend."     She looked up and said, "Well, you'll have to get it cleared by brigade or above before you use it to fly on this post."     "Got a video camera?" I asked.     She looked at me and said, "I could probably scare up the one we used when you arrived. Why do we need it?"     "I could give an impromptu PFM demonstration. You could tape it. That might help bypass some of the usual skepticisms and trepidations and Kent could do a live demo later."     Davidson gave me a wry grin and asked, "Doesn't 'impromptu' traditionally mean 'without preparation'?"     "Ma'am?" I replied, attempting to appear mystified by her question.     "I noted Kent's time in service," she said, "I also noted the expiration date on his ID." Turning to Steph, she said, "You spoke of starting a PFM company. Should I assume you've already offered Kent a position of some sort?"     Steph nodded. "I have."     Nodding herself, Sandra turned to me and said, "So the word 'impromptu' doesn't really apply at all, does it?"     "Well, you could pretend you don't know about PFM's and Kent could surprise you by jumping off the flitter."     After a moments' thought, she said, "No. If there's any fallout from this, I wouldn't be able to deny knowledge under oath. On the other hand, they'd understand fairly readily if a civilian failed to realize that he should ask permission before using his PFM on a military installation, so don't ask."     I nodded. "Yeah, 'the civilian failed to realize' would probably cover it well enough."     "We'll pick up a unit camera on the way to the parking lot," she said. "We'll say we intended to record the flitter flight and film from the time we step aboard until we land. That ought to be enough fill and cover."     And thus it was. Sergeant Copeland again joined us and we rose to three thousand feet before I dove over the edge of the deck and said, "Parasail on green." My launch was accompanied by a yell from Tiger as he also launched and a shout from Copeland, who somehow hadn't been informed that anyone would be bailing out.     Circling, I caught a glimpse of Tiger's green wings on the far side of the flitter.     I keyed my implant and asked, "Sue, how's everybody taking it?"     "Well enough," she said. "They're all on their feet and the camera's on you. I'll stay within a hundred yards of you."     "Sounds good. I'll switch to the kite near the ground. If they have any questions after that, Kent can handle them."     After some time under the parasail, I said, "Glider on green," and circled the parade field across from Davidson's office twice, then flared on approach, turned off my kite, and dropped perhaps two feet to the ground.     Sue retrieved Tiger, then brought the flitter to within a few feet of me. When the flitter landed, Sandra hopped off and kept the camera on me as she quick-marched up to me.     "Any last words?" she asked. "The battery's low."     Shrugging, I said, "Sure. PFM's are a helluva lot of fun."     She laughed. "That's it?"     I tried to look thoughtful, then said, "Yup. That's just my 'civilian' point of view, of course."     Turning off the camera, she handed it to Copeland, who was staring at me. He seemed to do a lot of that; he kind of reminded me of a very alert Doberman, but in his line of work, that wasn't a bad thing at all.     She asked, "What do you think of PFM's, Sergeant?"     He instantly responded, "If a cat can do it, anyone can. I'd try one right now, ma'am."     Davidson smilingly nodded and said, "Me, too."     Walking up behind her with Sue, Stephanie asked, "Do you mean that?"     Both turned to face her.     "Yes," said Davidson. "I meant it."     "Me, too, ma'am," said Copeland.     "In that case," said Steph, "Please stand by for a moment. Ed, would you join me aboard the flitter?"     Steph disappeared and reappeared by the flitter's console. I looked at Sandra and Copeland and shrugged, then followed her aboard.     "What's up, milady?"     "I just want this to appear to be a major decision."     Chuckling, I asked, "Then it isn't, I take it?"     She returned my grin.     "Not really. I believe in redundancy and something could happen to Kent. Col. Davidson is at a point in her career very similar to Kent's. 'Up or out' is the Army's policy, even when there's no 'up' currently available. Using a PFM may gain her enough notoriety to open a general's slot later, but if that doesn't happen, I could hire her when she retires."     "And Copeland? Why does he need one?"     Shrugging, Steph said, "He goes where she goes. I noticed that they seem to have a bond."     Nodding, I said, "Yeah, I think you read that right. If she expressed an interest in visiting hell, he'd grab his gear and get the door for her."     Steph nodded and we shared a grin as two bright flashes arced across the parade field and a pair of PFM's came to rest in Steph's hands. She stepped gracefully off the flitter instead of disappearing and reappearing and held the PFM's out to Sandra and Copeland, who took them from her in an almost reverent manner as Kent grinningly watched.     "Col. Davidson," said Steph, "Sergeant Copeland. These PFM's are being issued to you for demonstration purposes. They will not function for anyone else. I'll require a signed receipt from each of you -- and from you, Col. Meyer -- so that I'll be able to write them off my taxes..."     Copeland blurted, "You pay taxes?"     "Once my company is operational," continued Steph, "Of course I will." Turning to me, she said, "Ed, I have an appointment elsewhere, so I'll leave matters to you."     With a mock salute, I said, "See you later, milady."     Steph smiled, said goodbye to all, and then disappeared. Copeland looked toward the flitter, possibly expecting her to reappear there and fly away in it, but Sandra looked at me.     For long seconds neither of them spoke, then Sandra said, "She could have issued these to Green Berets or regular airborne personnel. Why didn't she?"     Shrugging slightly, I said, "She doesn't tell me everything, but one possible reason is that Kent showed up at the right time. You were a reasonable backup candidate, and Sgt. Copeland goes where you go, unless we read him wrong."     "Backup candidate?"     "Yup. If Kent doesn't stay in, current plans have him joining Steph's company. You're a light colonel, so you'll probably soon be facing a rank-ceiling, too, and I think Steph'll make you the same kind of offer if the Army won't cough up a star. In the meantime, you're all good choices for demonstrating PFM's; possibly better choices than people from elite outfits."     Sandra met my gaze in silence for a moment, then Kent looked up from studying his PFM and said, "I'd like to know more about that protective field."     Sue suggested that we go back to the office, where during the next hour or so she showed them on a large datapad screen some of the tests that had been performed.     None of them seemed to have any reservations about contraception. Kent and Sandra were childless career types. Copeland had three kids in Georgia and wanted no more.     After show and tell, it was near enough to noon that Sandra suggested we do something about lunch. Copeland bowed out, saying that he had a few things to take care of, so the rest of us went to the Officer's Club and discussed my availability for further demonstrations once the PFM's had been approved.     Sandra offered me a tour of Ft. Bragg, but I demurred. I'd already seen how much the common areas had changed and just couldn't seem to dig up much interest in revisiting other points around the post that would also undoubtedly have changed considerably over the years.     Kent and Sandra walked us to the flitter and Sue and I made our goodbyes, then we lifted on a course back to Florida. Chapter Sixty-four     At five until three, I called up a datapad and poked Linda's 'flapping lips' icon. She answered almost immediately.     "Hi, Ed. How was Ft. Bragg?"     Sighing, I said, "Jeez. That's how it is when you work for an ex-spook, huh? Lemme guess; someone spotted a flitter."     "You got it. They also said you and Tiger did some flying."     "Yup. He's got his own PFM. Linda, you remember that science fiction convention I told you about? The one on the fifteenth?"     "Vaguely. What about it?"     "How about telling me you're going to want me at Carrington that weekend?"     In a tone of vast surprise, Linda asked, "You want me to provide you a way out of a weekend date with Selena? Are you feeling all right, Ed?"     "Yeah, I'm fine, Linda. Sel's mother rescheduled her surgery for the fifteenth."     Linda's surprise deepened visibly as her mouth opened.     After a moment, she said softly, "Jesus, Ed. Joanie must really hate you."     With a little shrug, I said, "Yeah, could be. How about it?"     Linda cocked her head and asked, "So you're really just trying to give Selena a way out?"     "Yup. I also want to fix it so I won't be the reason if Selena's not there when her mom goes under the knife."     Nodding, Linda said, "Well, it's for a good cause, so okay. Be here that weekend, Ed. I'll find something for you to do when you get here. Are we even yet?"     Pretending to count thoughtfully on my fingers, I said, "Nope. I figure you still owe me two, but they're little ones."     She grinned. "I never should have let you keep score, damn it. Need anything else today?"     "Nope. Thanks, milady."     "You're welcome. Later, Ed."     Linda disconnected and I kept the pad up for a call to Selena. Sue seemed puzzled.     "Yes?" I asked.     "Does Linda really owe you anything, or were you joking?"     "Just joking."     "I couldn't tell, Ed. That bothers me."     "Some jokes are like that. Don't sweat it."     I checked my watch. Almost three.     Poking in Selena's cell phone number, I said, "You're new at reading people, Sue. Give it some time."     When Selena answered, I said, "Hi, there, most wondrous redheaded woman. Got time to talk? I have a problem."     "Hi, Ed. I'm on my way to class. What's up?"     Sighing as if disappointed, I said, "Linda just told me I'll be at Carrington during the convention weekend."     "What? Why?"     "She just said she'd have something for me to do. That probably means she hasn't got it all set up yet."     "She knew you had plans, Ed."     "Yeah, but she wouldn't just blow them off, Sel. You know Linda's not like that."     "Yeah, I know. I have to get to class, Ed. I'll call you later on the pad. Thanks for letting me off the hook, by the way."     "You're too smart for me, lady. I may have to trade you in."     Selena snorted a laugh and said, "Don't be in too big a hurry; you'll be rid of me soon enough."     "You'll only be in Tallahassee. Not far at all."     "It's far enough, dammit. All my friends are here. Look, I really have to get in there, Ed. Later."     "Okay. Bye."     I was aware of Sue's gaze as I dissolved the datapad.     "Yes, ma'am? A question?"     "Just thinking," said Sue. "You timed your call to Linda, expecting it would be a short one, then you called Selena when you knew she wouldn't have much time to talk."     "Yup."     "What if Joanie relents and reschedules again?"     "Very doubtful, but if so, then I'll call Linda, thank her, and pick up Selena on the way to the convention."     "Just like that," Sue stated rather flatly.     "Yeah, 'just like that'," I replied. "What's wrong with it?"     "Do you ever wonder if people sometimes resent being handed your 'solutions' to various problems, Ed?"     Giving her a direct look, I said, "No. If they don't like my solutions, they can say something other than 'thanks, Ed'."     "What if they'd prefer to devise their own solutions without your assistance?"     Shrugging, I said, "No problem. They're free to do so, just like I did just now. The biggest part of my scheduling with Linda for the fifteenth had to do with covering my own ass, Sue. I can't fix Sel's problems with her mother and I can't see letting something as trivial as an SF convention cause an all-around confrontation."     As we neared Spring Hill, I felt another presence nearby and looked around for Steph, but the seats and the deck behind me were empty. Sitting still for a moment, I closed my eyes and tried to fix a direction to the feeling. There. Got it.     I opened my eyes to find myself looking beyond the flitter at what appeared to be empty sky. Wrong? Nope. Felt right. I gave a little wave and keyed my comm implant as I patted the seat next to mine.     "Hi, Steph. I saved you a seat."     Something shimmery happened to the edge of our field as she appeared by the console and said, "That's Elkor's flitter. I'm about to do some prospecting."     The edge of the field stabilized and seemed to merge like a huge soap bubble with the field from Elkor's cargo flitter.     Steph smiled at me and said, "I wondered if you'd be able to detect me beyond two fields. That's a fascinating talent, Ed. Would you and Sue like to join me?"     "Well, gee, lady, let me check with my social secretary." I turned to Sue. "Care to go prospecting, milady?"     Sue laughed and said, "Whither thou goest, I go. For the next year, anyway."     "Sounds good to me. Glad to have such decorative company, too. See if Tiger's interested."     Nope. Tiger was bored; ready to go home. Truthfully, I sometimes got bored as hell aboard the flitter, too, but I could entertain myself with a datapad when the action was slow.     We stopped to let Tiger into the house, then Sue guided our flitter to follow Elkor's to a spot not far from the Louisiana coastline and the wide mouth of the Mississippi River.     I'll admit it. I was mystified. Steph had said 'prospecting', not 'marine salvage'. This area was one of the most well-charted regions on Earth and the water wasn't all that deep. If there was anything worthwhile down there, it seemed likely that someone would have already gone after it.     Watching a lone shrimpboat head toward shore, I keyed my implant, then asked, "Uh, Steph..? You said 'prospecting'. I kind of expected us to end up in a desert."     Disappearing from Elkor's flitter, Steph appeared in the seat next to mine and said, "I have reason to believe that scanning riverbeds may be worthwhile."     Calling up an oversized field screen, she caused a picture of the Mississippi River to appear, then highlighted several areas along its meandering path.     Elkor's flitter descended abruptly. As soon as its field disconnected from ours, it disappeared. Some moments later I saw a slight disturbance below as it plunged into the waters of the alluvial basin.     Steph said, "The flitter will scan the riverbed to a depth of one hundred and fifty feet."     I didn't have to ask why she was probing so deeply; the Mississippi partly followed a fault line and was known for frequent course changes and for carrying and depositing massive quantities of soil.     Touching the map, Steph said, "Floods along this river have washed away entire towns. Boats have sunk; often those of traders. During the Civil War, a boat carrying military plunder reportedly sank a few miles south of Vicksburg."     Touching a spot just below St. Louis, she said, "In this region, construction dredging discovered several automobiles, all of which had been manufactured prior to 1931. Bullet holes and human remains were found in several of the cars and a safe was found chained to the remains of a flatbed truck."     "Probably from the booze wars," I said. "The Eighteenth Amendment -- Prohibition -- created criminals where we'd only had drunks before. What did they find in the safe?"     "Jewelry, two handguns, and the remnants of money and documents."     Grinning, I said, "Ah-hah. Sunken treasure. Is that what inspired your sudden interest in the Mississippi?"     Returning my grin with a wry one of her own, Steph said, "Rivers are much easier to search than oceans, and while they may not hold as much treasure, I expect to be able to justify my efforts. The results of my scans will be made available at prices that will vary according to purpose."     "So the real treasure is in the number of times you can sell the info. Sounds good. How long will it take to scan the whole Mississippi River?"     "Including tributaries and allowing time for retrievals of minor valuables not buried too deeply, I'd say about a month."     When I laughed, she looked at me questioningly.     "Quote;" I said, "'I'd say about a month.' Steph, you're a marvel. I remember when you couldn't make a guesstimate."     "The correct word is 'wouldn't', Ed."     "Uh, huh. A month doesn't seem like enough time, ma'am. You sure you didn't misplace a decimal or something?"     Steph gave me a wry, dry look and Sue snickered. Raising my hands as if to protest, I stepped back toward the cooler.     "Yes. Well," I said, reaching into the cooler for a Dr Pepper, "Sorry. Of course I'd never seriously question your math, milady. Do please forgive me. What have you found so far?"     She grinned as she changed the picture on the datapad. A glistening cube appeared on Elkor's flitter's deck. The view zoomed in and I saw that the cube was composed of jewelry; mostly rings and necklaces, apparently within a square field.     Stacks of bundled money sat to one side of the cube, possibly within their own field. Figuring that a dollar is roughly six inches long, the jewelry cube had to be about three feet tall and equally wide.     Behind the jewelry cube and the stacks of bills were stacks of coins. For a moment I wondered why there were so many small stacks and loose coins, then I realized that she'd likely sorted them by type and possibly date.     "Damn," I muttered. "You've been busy, Steph. Did all this stuff come from one place?"     "It was recovered from a twenty-mile section of the river. I've matched most of the jewelry to the inventories of shops that were lost in floods. Most of the bills were in safes and some were in a large camera case in the trunk of a 1988 Cadillac. The car also held the remains of four people."     "Sounds interesting. Were there drugs and weapons, too?"     Nodding, she said, "The driver was William L. Washington, of Moline, Illinois. He and his friends were in possession of $1,250,000 and several bundles of cocaine when they drowned. I took the money and left the drugs and weapons. Their location will be part of the data received by the authorities."     "Hm. If you tell them where to look, they'll have to at least consider the idea of going after them. Can they can get to the car readily?"     She shook her head.     "No. It's in one of the most turbulent parts of the river. An attempt to retrieve it would be very difficult and expensive."     "But you'd contract to bring it up for a fee? One that might make the recovery worthwhile?"     Steph smiled. "Of course."     "What are you going to say when they ask if you had salvage permits for this venture?"     "I'll tell them the truth just as you would, Ed; that I never entered the water, therefore I needed no permits."     Snorting a laugh, I said, "Okay, but what about the jewelry? Some of the stones may be laser-engraved and they'll wonder how you raised them... No, wait, you could shear off the markings and sell the jewelry through the same people who bought your gold. No markings, no problem."     Sue said, "Shearing would ruin the symmetry of a stone, Ed. It would be better to reconstitute those regions."     Laughing again, I said, "They'd need an electron microscope to spot a symmetry problem. I'd go with the method that costs the least in time and energy, milady. Most people aren't really all that knowledgeable or picky about diamonds in jewelry and you'd be wholesaling the stuff as salvaged merchandise."     Steph nodded. "Generally true, but I'd prefer to reconstitute the etched areas. The difference in time and energy expended would be negligible."     The shrimpboat below had stopped. I checked the sun against my hand. Three fingers to sunset, and shrimpers often didn't return to port until well after dark.     I asked Sue, "Is that boat calling for help?"     "No."     "Their nets aren't in the water and they're heading in kind of early. And you almost never see a shrimpboat stop at sea; there's no money in it. Let's check it out."     We almost instantly dropped the few thousand feet to hover beside the boat. A man in the wheelhouse was messing with a radio and apparently becoming more frustrated by the second. Another stood smoking a cigarette in the stern, staring at the open engine room hatchway.     A small plume of blue-black smoke came from the hatchway, then two men emerged. The men held an angry conference on the deck behind the wheelhouse, then one of them threw up his hands and went to sit on the nets.     "Sue, how far is it to shore?"     "Twenty-six miles. Are you thinking of towing them?"     "No, I was thinking of calling it in for them. That boat's all steel and looks kind of heavy. Is towing an option?"     "It is if they have a towline."     "Then let's decloak this starship and talk to them."     She dropped our field and I yelled, "Hey! Want some help?"     A couple of the guys just stood staring at us. One of the other two almost dove into the wheelhouse, and the guy he'd been arguing with turned to face us with a look of startlement that bordered shock.     Sue fielded me across to their deck and held me a few feet above it, where I asked, "Permission to come aboard?"     The guy by the wheelhouse seemed to gather himself a bit, then said, "Sure. Who are you?"     As Sue lowered me to the deck, I said, "Someone who can tow you into port if you have a line. Are you the captain?"     He shook his head. "Yes, but we don't have a towline."     Keying my implant, I asked Sue, "Would an anchor chain work?"     "Uh... I don't know," said the guy. "I guess so."     "Yes," said Sue.     "Good," I said, then to the guy, "Does this thing have manual steering, or do you need the engines running?"     "I can steer without engines," he said.     I gave him a nod and went forward to look at the anchor. It was a standard double-hook, but it went through a hole at the gunwhale. I asked Sue if that would be a problem and she said that it would only affect the speed of the tow.     The captain had followed me forward. We paid out some anchor chain and Sue fielded the anchor to her deck, then brought me back aboard the flitter. The captain then took the wheel and waved that he was ready.     To me, it seemed that the anchor was simply lying on the deck, but as the chain pulled tight with pops and bangs and we began to move forward, the anchor didn't budge.     The shrimp boat was cutting a decent bow wake as we neared the mouth of the channel that led to the boat's registered dock. Sue slowed us down until we were crawling along and eased the boat against the dock. Two of the guys jumped off the boat to secure it to the pilings.     "Ladies," I said, "Do we want to stick around?"     "Not particularly," said Steph.     "Nor I," said Sue.     "Same here," I said. "It's almost dinnertime."     We waved to the people on the boat and on the dock as Sue let the anchor fall into the water by the boat, then she put the fields up and we lifted toward Florida.     When we arrived in Spring Hill, we stopped at a Checkers and I bought a big burger and fries at the walkup window, then we headed for the house.     "Ed," said Sue, then she fell silent. Although she said no more, her gaze was fixed on my bag of food.     "Yes?" I asked as we landed.     "Never mind. Steph informed me that she's also criticized your diet on occasion."     I looked at Steph and said, "Thank you."     Sue said, "I wouldn't mind cooking for you."     "But I'd mind. It's something I don't like to do, so it isn't something I'd ask you to do."     "You'd rather eat..." she nodded at the bag, "That stuff?"     "Yeah. Sometimes. This is one of those times."     Standing stiffly, Sue asked, "Don't you have any concern for your health, Ed?"     Enough. I took a fry out of the bag and munched it as I looked at her severely disapproving expression.     "Hm," I said. "Not enough salt. I wanna be able to hear my arteries slam shut when I eat stuff like this. We'll have to try someplace else next time."     "Sarcasm is unwarranted, Ed."     "Well, you didn't seem to be getting my message, Sue."     "You don't have to get defensive, either."     "That wasn't defensive. Defensive would be if I flatly told you to mind your own business, but I haven't said anything like that 'cuz I'm a total gentleman."     Steph snorted a laugh. Sue glared and disappeared.     "Steph," I said, "Couldn't you have shared a few more of your experiences with her? The ones about me, anyway?"     "I gave Sue a thorough dossier on you, Ed. She knew what you'd say if she criticized your feeding habits." With a grin, she said, "She's a new entity, Ed, not simply another copy of me. Some things she'll have to hear for herself and may be less inclined to accept without discussion."     "Oh, great," I said, stepping off the flitter. "You did make it clear to her that she wasn't intended to be my mother, right?"     Steph laughed and Sue reappeared directly in my path and rather stridently said, "Telling you when you're mistreating yourself is simply another of my many duties."     "Strike that duty off your list, please."     "I'm afraid I can't honor that request, Ed."     "Well, then, now it's no longer a request, and you will honor a direct order."     Sue came to attention and saluted me, and in a flat tone said, "Oh, yes, sir, Captain, sir!" then she disappeared.     What presence of hers that I was normally able to feel seemed to disappear with her. Really gone? Or just lurking at the edge of sensor range?     Steph gave me an impassive expression and said nothing.     I nodded for her to come with me and started for the house again as I asked, "Is this something I'm supposed to live with or train out of her?"     "Would you ask that question if she were a real woman?"     With a sigh and a glance at her, I said, "No, ma'am. If I got that kind of crap from a real woman after only a few days, I'd just thank her for her time and lose her phone number, and you already knew that. If I'll have to put up with much of this kind of crap... Well, you said I could have a replacement."     In a rather cool tone, Steph said, "That would be up to you, of course, but if you return her, it could be quite a while before we could place her with someone again."     Waving a hand dismissively, I said, "You'd put her to sleep until then, wouldn't you? She wouldn't feel a thing. Why can't you just program that cranky streak out of her?"     Shaking her head, Steph said, "Sue's agreement with us allows her to develop her own personality. Unless she violates the strictures of her primary programming, we are bound against tampering with her data."     I let myself into the house, closed the front door, and put my bagged dinner on the kitchen counter, then said, "You spoiled me, Steph. I'd never really be satisfied with a standard core, but I won't play 'tame that shrew' with my flitter pilot."     Steph said nothing as I unbagged the food and tore off a bit of the burger for Tiger, who'd come to investigate. I put the bit of burger on the windowsill and lifted him up there, then put the rest of the food on a paper plate and moved it to the table.     Turning to face Steph, I said, "I think the fact that Sue's not you is tainting my judgment of her. Do you think so, too?"     Shrugging slightly, Steph said, "It's a possibility."     "You'll let me know if you think I'm being unfair, right?"     Nodding with a small smile, she said, "You're being unfair."     "We can discuss it later. Care to visit for a while?"     Nodding again, she sat down and said, "Yes, I would."     We talked for more than an hour, but most of it was little more than trivia having nothing to do with Sue. I just wanted Steph there for a while; to have her familiar presence near and to hear her voice as I looked at her. I figured she was doing a hundred other things remotely as she sat there with me.     When the phone rang around eight, I let the machine pick it up and waited to hear who was calling.     Selena said, "Ed, I just wanted to let you know that I may have to go to Melbourne this weekend. My brother's visiting."     As she spoke, Steph stood up and gave me a little 'bye-bye' wave with a small smile, then disappeared.     I extended a field tendril to pick up the receiver and said, "Hi, Sel. Be sure to wear your flak-proof undies. He doesn't think you ought to be hanging around with me, either."     She sighed and said, "Yeah, I know. Mom raised him to think women are incomplete without marriage and kids. He's got three of them as of last month."     "Three women? Damn. I thought I had problems."     Her sigh was audible before she said, "Oh, ha, ha."     "Did he bring the whole crew with him?"     "He did."     "I don't envy you, then. It'll be a show and tell weekend and you can bet you'll get picked for babysitting."     Sighing again, Sel said, "Yeah, no doubt, but I only see him about once a year."     "Well, have fun if you can. I seem to be having a family issue here, too."     "Family? I thought your people were in Texas and..."     "They are. I mean with Sue. She's apparently developing a temper and a passion for telling me how to live. Today's issue was my diet."     Sel snickered and replied, "That doesn't sound too serious."     "Yeah, well, you had to be there, I guess."     My tone must have told her my feelings; Sel turned serious and said, "She was probably just trying to look out for you, Ed. As I recall, that's part of a flitter's program."     "This seemed a little beyond basic programming. I'll work it out, Sel. Want some company tonight?"     "Can't," she said. "Exams tomorrow. Toni and I are cramming with Connie and Mark. I just took a break to say hi."     "Any news on the condo sale?"     "Two people looked at it last week. No word yet."     We spoke for another ten minutes or so, then I started to eat my dinner and found it cold. That seemed vaguely symbolic, somehow. I zapped the food in the micro and took it to the den to watch Deutsche Welle's newshour on PBS.     After trashing the wrappings of my dinner, I called the flitter down and boarded it, taking the pilot's seat.     "Head west," I said.     Sue appeared, sat down in the seat on my right, and asked, "Destination?"     "None."     "Altitude?"     Reaching into the cooler, I said, "Max."     "Speed?"     Pulling out an Ice House beer, I said, "Default."     "You're angry with me, aren't you?"     "I just want to think about some things."     "Is that a way of telling me to shut up?"     Sighing as I opened the beer. I said, "Sue, it's a way of suggesting that I'd rather think than talk right now."     After some time watching the world turn below or gazing at the unmoving stars above, I reached overhead for my briefcase and took out my datapad, then poked up a book.     About an hour later, I said, "Back to the house, please," and put my datapad away as my thoughts came together.     Fact: extensive experience involving human interaction was necessary in order for Sue to meet the standards required by her contract with Elkor and Steph for her release as an individual. If they thought she hadn't progressed enough at the end of the year, they'd refuse to release her.     On the other hand, they'd probably leave her with me, and at the moment, that idea wasn't altogether appealing. Was I overreacting to Sue's attitude? Probably, by someone else's standards, but I didn't have to live by their standards.     I wondered if they'd let Sue go early if she seemed ready. But how would she be ready any earlier if she remained with me? Then it hit me; I knew how to help her gather interactive experience as fast as possible.     "Sue, I want to be able to directly access all flitter controls by voice commands or by using my implants. Make that so immediately."     She appeared and asked, "Ed, why are you doing this?"     "Have you implemented my order?"     "Yes. Why are you doing this?"     "We'll discuss it tomorrow. Next question?"     In a somewhat surly tone, she said, "There is no next question, Ed."     Stepping off the flitter, I said, "In that case, goodnight, Sue. I'll call you if I need you." Chapter Sixty-five     After breakfast, I got a second cup of coffee and waited until nine. Using the phone instead of my datapad, I called Victoria Chang at the Carrington Youth Center.     When she answered, I said, "Hi, there. This is the guy who stopped to help when you had that car accident in February. The one with the unusual girlfriend."     "Ed? Oh, my! Well, hi! What can I do for you today?"     "Do you have a few minutes to spare today? I'd like to drop by. It's about volunteer work. Maybe I could take you to lunch at Penelope's Garden in beautiful downtown Carrington?"     "Oooo. You must really want something."     "Yup. Sure do. No obligations, though. Lunch is just lunch."     After a pause, she asked, "Do you mind if I bring a friend?"     "Mind if I pick the friend?"     "Huh? What do you mean?"     "I mean the woman who runs your girls' softball team."     I guess her sense of caution kicked in right about then. There was a brief pause, then I noticed a hollow quality to our connection that usually means someone else has picked up.     "The girls' softball coach?" she asked, "Why her?"     "Because the woman I'm bringing with me would be working with her if you decide to accept her as a volunteer. Do you remember Stephanie?"     With an element of surprise in her voice, Chang said, "Uh, yes, of course. You're saying she wants to coach baseball?"     "Not Stephanie. Sue, of the same family. And not baseball. It's softball. It's similar, but not the same."     Barely audibly, someone in the room with her snickered.     "You know what I mean," said Chang.     "Yup. And you know why this could be worth some discussion, so how about that lunch?"     There was a pause, then she said, "We usually go to lunch at noon. Could you show up a little early so Ms. Pullman can meet you and decide for herself?"     "No problem. Eleven-thirty?"     "That would be fine."     "Great. How's your leg?"     "Good as new, except for some scars around my knee. My husband doesn't seem to mind them, though."     "Smart man. He's probably learned that there's more to a woman than her legs."     We chatted for another minute or so, then hung up. I got on the net and checked email and sites until ten, then made another coffee and sat down at the kitchen table.     "Sue, I'd like you to appear, please."     She did so, popping into being by the sink in her little black dress, as usual. She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter as she silently met my gaze.     "Wait here," I said, and went to the den for the Sunday newspaper, from which I culled the department store ad sections to bring back to the kitchen table.     "That dress is evening wear," I said as I marked several of the ads for women's clothing. "Outfits like these are what you'll be wearing for a while. Today in particular, you'll be wearing this one."     I tapped one of the ads, a skirt-blouse-jacket combo.     Sue broke her sullen silence to ask, "May I ask why?"     "You'll figure it out. You'll also appear and disappear only on command until further notice. I don't want you spooking our lunch guests. I also don't want you being unpleasant around them. You don't have to be little Mary Sunshine, but you do have to be cordial."     Stepping to within a couple of feet of me, she asked, "Did you really think you had to say that?"     "You've been cranking off a bit lately, so I'm just making sure you behave. Try on your new clothes now."     Her black dress morphed into a copy of the outfit pictured in the ad; a light blue jacket and skirt and a white blouse. Her bracelet seemed to clash with her sleeve.     "If you're going to wear the bracelet," I said, "Make the skirt and jacket a light shade of brown. Tan or maybe a little darker. And you need some other jewelry."     Rooting through the ad pages, I picked out a few necklaces and said, "Any of these. Vary them daily if you want."     One of them, a slender chain with a small jeweled pendant, appeared around Sue's neck as she asked, "What? No rings?"     "You want rings? Sure, lady. Grab some of these. Wear no more than two at time, though. We aren't going for the ostentatious look."     I tapped a dozen or so of the only moderately-elaborate rings. Sue raised her left hand and waggled her fingers. A pair of gold interlocking dolphins circled her ring finger.     "Good enough?" she asked.     "If you like it, it's yours, ma'am, and if asked, you're to say you picked it out yourself. Same with the others."     "But I didn't."     "But you did. I showed you a range and you chose one. You'll say the same about the others if you use them. Earrings. Forgot earrings. And shoes."     Of the range I tapped in the ads, she chose a pair of cat-face earrings and her pendant morphed to match them. I also selected shoes for all occasions and she went with the low-heeled pumps in a medium brown.     "Have we forgotten anything?" I asked, then answered my own question with, "Purses," as I reached for the ad pages.     Sue said, "Wait," and materialized a handbag that matched her shoes, then asked, "Will this do?"     "Works fine. Looks good."     "Wonderful," she said, "Now will you tell me what you're up to?"     Sitting down with my coffee, I said, "Sure. You're going to be a volunteer at Carrington base. By the way, you may have to come up with a last name for their records."     She just stared at me for some moments, then Steph appeared beside her and asked, "Ed, are you sure..?"     "Chang knows about field constructs," I interrupted. "Sue needs interaction with people in order to qualify for release according to your agreement. This way she'll get lots of it fast with both adults and teens. The good and bad of both."     "Have you checked with Linda about this?"     "Nope. That's the next step. Think she'll say no? I don't."     As I was getting up from the table, Steph asked, "Have you considered Sue's feelings, Ed?"     "They'll get plenty of exercise with a herd of teens."     Her gaze narrowed. "We placed Sue with you for a reason."     "And I'm placing her with Chang for a reason. I never once considered asking Elkor to replace you, Steph, but I've come close to asking him to replace Sue twice in two days. This is an alternative that will keep her program active and give her interaction."     To Sue, I asked, "Would you rather shut down until they can find you another position or try my alternative?"     "I'll take the alternative," she said quietly. "Do you really dislike me so much?"     "No. I think that some time having to lead as well as follow will be good for you. I also think you'll probably learn why I decided to subcontract some of your experience with Chang."     After freshening my coffee, I headed outside and called the flitter down, then boarded and took the pilot's seat. Sue sat in the seat to my right. Steph had disappeared.     I said, "To Carrington base, please," and the flitter lifted as I called up a datapad screen and tapped Linda's icon.     She answered almost immediately and said, "Hold one," then turned her datapad enough that I could see Victoria Chang in a chair by her desk.     "Word travels fast," I said. "Hi, Victoria."     She nodded with a tiny smile as Linda rolled her chair closer to hers and said, "Ed, is there a reason you didn't ask me about volunteering Sue before suggesting it to Vickie?"     "Sure. It didn't seem necessary, Linda. Our security codes are probably high enough for coaching softball."     Vickie's smile briefly widened.     Linda's impassive gaze narrowed a bit as she asked, "What's your ETA, Ed?"     "Half an hour or so. Are you coming to lunch with us?"     "We'll see. Let me talk to Sue, Ed."     Turning the datapad to include Sue, I sipped my coffee.     "Sue," said Linda, "Are you in accord with this?"     Without so much as a glance at me, Sue said, "Yes."     "Is it your idea?"     "No. Ed says I need a wider range of human experience. Volunteer work was his proposal for acquiring it."     Linda's eyes again turned to me.     "Sports, Ed? You hate team sports."     "I ignore team sports. There's a difference. There's no reason to limit her to softball, either. That was just the first thing that popped into my mind 'cause the season's starting soon and they're always shorthanded."     There was a pause as Linda sipped her own coffee, then she said, "Not good enough. Dig a little deeper."     Looking first at Linda, then at Vickie, I said, "Okay. I've found myself wanting some time to myself for the first time in years. Sue will be on tap for missions, but in the meantime, I'm going to live alone for a change. This way I'm not screwing her out of the experience Elkor and Steph stipulated."     "Just like that? All of a sudden you want to live alone?"     "Yup. The other day I said something like that to Kent Meyer. At the time, I was just redirecting the conversation, but I've come to realize that it's true. I've had 24-7 company -- human and computer -- since the day after I met Ellen and Gary over three years ago. I want some time off."     "So you're farming Sue out. What about Steph and Elkor?"     "Elkor's a quiet observer who likes my cat. Steph is busy elsewhere these days. Both are available."     "You know I considered Steph and you a team, Ed. Now the team is Sue and you."     "As I said, she'd be on tap for missions."     "Who's going to handle your flitter?"     "I am. Sue's participation in guiding my flitter will be reduced to almost standard-issue parameters. The rest of her will be doing volunteer work at Carrington."     Turning to Sue, Linda asked, "Sue, is that really a workable arrangement? Can you split yourself like that?"     Nodding, Sue said, "The most extreme flitter operations possible would occupy less than half a percent of my current resources, Linda."     Another long pause occurred. Linda finally broke it by saying, "That's a nice jacket, Sue. Ed, Vickie will be in my office. We may have more to talk about before I agree to this."     I almost asked, 'Why do you feel a need to agree or disagree?' but held my tongue and maintained an impassive expression. Linda had the rank to invite herself into any discussion concerning base operations, however trivial.     "In fact, if you don't mind," said Linda, "Send Sue on ahead. I'd like to talk to her without her owner present."     "Owner?" asked Vickie, staring at Linda.     "Later," said Linda. "How about it, Ed?"     "No problem."     Turning to Sue, I said, "See you there, Sue."     Sue nodded and vanished, then reappeared standing behind Vickie's chair.     "How soon will she be here?" asked Vickie.     "I'm already here," said Sue.     Vickie shrieked softly and unassed her chair as Linda's head whipped around to stare at Sue, who gave her a little smile as she said, "Hello, Linda." Extending a hand, she added, "Hello, Ms. Chang. May I also call you Vickie?"     Off-screen, I heard Vickie's panting reply, "Uh... Yes. Yes, of course, Sue," and saw her trembling hand extend to take Sue's as she said, "I'm sorry. You... ah... you kind of startled me."     'Hah,' I thought with a silent laugh. 'Startled you? She scared the holy hell out of you.'     "Linda," I said to get her attention.     She turned to face the datapad. Yup. She was still coming down from an adrenaline rush, too.     I had a private chuckle at that, then said, "Be there in a bit, ma'am. Don't go to lunch without me."     "Lunch may happen in the mess hall if I don't hear from some people by noon. We have a transport docking at one."     Hm. She was saying that we'd go nowhere and make no deals without her.     "Okay. Vickie, if we have to, we can issue rain checks on that lunch at Penelope's Garden. I'll let you guys get on with your interrogation, now. Over and out and like that."     As my finger descended on the 'off' icon, I heard Vickie say, "It isn't an int..."     Right. The hell it wasn't. No biggie. They wanted to be sure that Sue wasn't somehow being abused, and that was fine by me. The deal had been as good as done when Linda had asked to speak to Sue alone. Taking another sip of coffee, I punched up my book to pass the time.     About five minutes from Carrington, a datapad manifested itself and some guy in base blues peered at me in surprise for a moment before asking, "You're Dragonfly?"     "Yup. And you?"     "Miller. Base ops. We're in level six and alert status is red. That's red, Dragonfly. Ms. Baines told me to get you on the horn. She's on her way down here now."     "Hold one," I said, poking the 'trace' icon on the datapad. It verified the caller's location, and that was good enough for the moment. "Got a sitrep?"     He nodded and said, "Yes, sir. One of our trucks is inbound about fifty miles out. He was supposed to check in at eleven. We can't raise him on the radio and a drone is reading high levels of radiation. You're to do a flyby on your way in."     "Send me the info. Wouldn't flits one and two be closer?"     "One is on assignment in Washington, DC, and you're already in the vicinity. Two is standing by to support you."     On my screen appeared a description including make, model, color, fleet number, license plate number, and a picture of the assigned driver, George Peterson. Radiation levels didn't seem all that high to me, but the source was plutonium.     "Okay, got it," I said. "Later, Base."     Poking the comm icon off, I said, "Sue, head the flitter to intercept the truck, please, then send a copy out there and see if his radio is on. Also see if the driver is George Peterson. And if ol' George has a cell phone, ring it for me, please."     Sue instantly said, "The truck just turned east onto state road 36 from US 83. Its radio is off and he's not answering his cell phone, Ed. The man in the driver's seat appears to be George Peterson. He's alive, but unconscious."     A moment later she said, "The truck contains a nuclear device and is being guided by remote control. Peterson has been drugged and is being held in his seat by restraints. Stopping the engine, interrupting the control signal, or removing Peterson will detonate the device. The timer is set for one-ten p.m."     Sighing, I said, "They want to nail the transport. Welcome to your first mission, ma'am. Patch the info to base, trace the signal to its source, and let Linda know where it is."     "Wouldn't their arrest be a matter for local authorities?"     "Don't bug me with trivia, Sue. I don't give a rat's ass whose jurisdiction they're in. Let Linda deal with it and put the flitter about a yard above the truck, please."     "You're going to board the truck?"     "Probably. Is there only one camera in the cab, or were they smart enough to hang some around the outside?"     "There's only one camera, Ed. It's magnetically mounted on the cab roof."     "Great. They're going to hit stop signs and lights along SR-36, Sue. I'll board the truck at one of them. What can we do to the transmission to slow it down? Any way to screw up the high gear? Blow some of the internal seals?"     "Not without taking the chance of stopping the engine."     "Well, give it some thought. Hey, what about blocking the throttle linkage? Keep it from moving far enough to engage higher speeds?"     "The engine RPM's govern all gear shiftings, Ed. If we did that, the truck would be unable to shift above first gear."     "Hm. Not good. They might decide to blow it."     Punching up the specs for the truck on my datapad, I looked for tamperable spots. There weren't many readily obvious to me and I couldn't think of any that wouldn't risk stopping the truck. While I could drive a big rig, I didn't know very much about their guts and gears.     After a moment, Sue said, "I've located the source of the signals, Ed."     "Like I said, give the info to Linda. How big would the blast be?"     "Two hundred kilotons. I've examined the bomb's firing mechanism, Ed. It won't fizzle."     "What about disarming the firing mechanism?"     "Can't do it without interrupting the control signal."     "You can't mimic the control signal?"     She said somewhat testily, "If I could, I'd have said so. It's a randomized signal. But maybe you can do better with it, Ed. Want the details?"     There was that snotty tone again.     "Send 'em to Linda's people and can the attitude."     The eastbound blue truck came into view. We flew over it, then the flitter settled to within a yard of the roof of the trailer. I could see the camera on the cab; it was mounted on three shock-absorbing pads and a fat cable ran into the cab through the doorframe, just like a CB antenna wire.     Oh, well. The truck was coming to a four-way stop. Time to get down to it.     "Sue, patch Linda into my implant, please, and send her a visual of what's going on."     "Done."     "Thanks. Linda, any ideas?"     "We're working on it. What's your next move?"     "Well, I thought I might slice the trailer open and let us all have a look at the bomb."     Linda replied, "Sue, is there any reason he shouldn't? Wires or cameras or sensors in the trailer?"     "No, Linda. The only sensors are on the device."     "What about radiation?"     "No danger with limited exposure and none if he's wearing his five suit. I'm sending you diagrams from my scans. The device is well-constructed."     "Apparently so," said Linda. "According to the these pics. I'm told there's no way to disarm it. Everything is looped into everything else, even the timer. Did we miss anything? Anything at all? Is that how you see it, too, Sue?"     "Yes," said Sue. "Any attempt to disarm it by conventional means would fail."     "Well, hell," I said, "Let's see if we can steal their quality control people. Linda, are you alone or can you be for a minute? I mean, really alone? Just you and me and Sue on the line?"     Almost instantly, she responded, "No. At the moment, that's impossible, Ed, and this is too big a crisis to..."     "Linda," I interrupted, "I have something to say to you. Just you. It's important enough to warrant privacy."     "I'm sorry, Ed. I'm in the level six command center. It just can't be done at the moment."     Nodding, I said, "Okay. Sue, cut them out of the link."     Sue's eyes got big and she said, "But..."     Linda almost screamed, "What..?! No!"     I ignored Linda's subsequent rantings as I said, "Do it, Sue. I have to talk to you privately."     "But Linda's your superior, Ed. She's ordering you to maintain the link."     "Dammit, that's it," I said, "Steph, can you spare me a minute or two?"     Steph appeared to my right and I turned to face her.     "Steph, would you please turn Sue off, cut the comm link to base, and help me with something?"     Nodding, she said, "Of course. I noticed your difficulties with Sue and I was about to visit you, anyway."     A shocked Sue disappeared in mid-protest. Linda's voice in my head fell silent.     "We're alone," said Steph.     "Thank you, milady. You once said you could make gold from other stuff and reconstitute diamonds, and I don't want that info to become public knowledge. Can you turn the core of that bomb into lead before this truck can reach the base?"     "It would be simpler to transmute the detonating explosives, Ed."     "Yeah, but there's already too much weapons-grade nuclear crap in the world. This is a chance to remove some of it without being given a hard time. Does the idea sound workable?"     Nodding again, she said, "Yes, it's workable, but working through the bomb casing will slow the process drastically. Sue and flitter two will be necessary."     "Do we have time to bring Elkor's flitter out here?"     "No, but three of us will be sufficient."     Clapping my hands together, I said, "All right! Cool! Put Linda on for me and I'll tell her to send flit two."     Sue reappeared and stood glaring at me for half a second as Steph filled her in without speaking aloud. Sue's expression softened and she nodded, then stood by.     When I opened a datapad link, Linda came back on the line like a banshee.     I took a few seconds of her first volley, then said, "Linda, there's no time for this. I need flitter two out here."     "What?! What the hell did you say? You hang up on me in the middle of a goddamned mission and then you tell me you want me to send my only other flitter..."     "Yes!" I barked back at her, "That's what I said, and if you don't listen to me, my flitter and I will be getting the hell out of here real damned quick. Just stand by a sec."     Glaring hotly, Linda said ominously, "Stand by? Oh, this better be good, Ed. Real damned good. Better than good."     Turning to Sue, I asked, "Steph told you the plan?"     "Yes, Ed."     "Okay. Zap yourself to Linda and make absolutely sure that nobody else hears you tell her what we're up to, but let them see you tell her about it. That's it. Go now, please."     Sue vanished.     Returning my gaze to Linda's, I said, "You're about to hear something that nobody else needs to hear, Linda."     She snapped back, "I'll be the judge of that."     "Yeah, but I think you'll agree when you hear it."     Sue appeared next to Linda on my pad and whispered to her for a moment. Linda's eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly, then she tapped a comm button and told Angela Horn to send flitter two to meet us.     "On my way, ma'am," said Angela.     "No. Just the flitter. In stealth mode and subsonic."     "Ma'am?"     Intensifying her voice slightly, Linda said, "No pilot, Lieutenant. Just send it out there. Now."     "Yes, ma'am."     Again facing me, Linda calmly said, "Two's on the way, Dragonfly. Swear everyone involved to total secrecy. Flitter two, as well. Records of use will be edited appropriately."     I said, "Will do, Fearless Leader," as Sue reappeared on the flitter.     Flitter two arrived within seconds and Steph took command of the transmutation operation. Both ladies disappeared, then Steph informed me that they were inside the trailer and beginning the process by transmuting the detonating explosives first to preclude an accidental -- or an intentional -- nuclear blast.     As we rolled through the flat North Dakota countryside and a town that was little more than some buildings clustered around three stoplights, I opened a Dr Pepper and summoned up a separate datapad window to call Bost Automotive about a new engine for my car.     When Chuck Bond answered, I told him I had an 84 Olds Eighty-eight and asked if he knew where he could find me a new engine.     "We got two of 'em in the back lot right now," he said. "One's a 307 from an '85 and the other's a 350 from a '94. We had to scrap the rest of that car. Bad accident. Either one is gonna be nine hundred. Installed, that is."     Linda's standby icon began to flash.     "Hold on one," I told the guy at Bost. "My boss is calling on the other line."     "I thought you were retired."     "It's a part time thing. Gotta make ends meet, y'know. Hang on a sec, okay? I'm probably gonna go with the 350."     "Yeah, okay."     I poked Linda's icon to switch screens and she appeared wearing her 'what the hell are you doing?' face.     "What the hell are you doing, Ed, calling a garage in the middle of a mission?"     "What else should I be doing, Linda?"     "This is a real bad time to smart off to me!"     "I'm not. There's nothing I can do to help the ladies, so what else should I be doing right now?"     She fumed for a moment, then viciously punched the standby icon on her pad.     I brought the Bost connection back up and asked, "You still there?"     "Yeah. You gonna take the 350?"     "You're the mechanic. Would you take it?"     "Yeah. Less miles and you need some muscle in a big car. Might even get better mileage, believe it or not."     "Good enough, then. When can you pick up my car?"     "This evening good? Around six?"     "Yeah, I think so. It kind of depends on how things go here later. I'd better call you back this afternoon."     "Okay. Later, then."     "You got it. Thanks."     Forty-one minutes and thirty-two miles of farm traffic and stops after starting the procedure, Steph announced that there was no longer any plutonium in the bomb.     "Excellent, Steph. I've always said you were some kind of a goddess. Now you have to believe me."     Steph mock-sighed and said, "Yeah, yeah. You always say that when I do something nice for you."     "Yeah, well, name anyone else who could have handled it, milady. Now let's see about Peterson. Five suit on."     I hopped to the roof of the trailer. A few moments of climbing behind the cab later, I was able to look through the driver's door window and eyeball the harness that held poor ol' drugged-up George.     Quad-overlay straps like those of a parachute harness had been intricately wrapped around Peterson's arms, legs, and chest, then pop-riveted to the seat, the floor, and the side of the cab. There were no buckles, of course, and some of the straps had been riveted to the driver's door.     "Steph," I called, "Are there any explosives in the cab?"     "No," she said. "May I ask why you didn't simply have one of us lift you to your present perch, Ed?"     "I wanted a look at a few things on the way. Thought you might be a little tired, too, after all that transmuting stuff."     "Oh, my, you're being facetious. How cute."     "Yes'm. That's me; cute to the core. I'll slice Peterson loose and hand him out to you."     "Just cut the straps and open the door. We'll lift him out of the cab and onto flitter two."     "You got it, ma'am. Keep this thing on the road, okay? They'll probably hit the kill switch when I cut the wires."     Snapping open my belt knife, I sawed through the door straps, then four of the other straps. Sure enough, the engine died and the truck came to a gradual stop.     After opening the door, I pushed the straps off Peterson and held the door open as Steph fielded Peterson out of the truck and aboard flitter two, which streaked away toward the base.     Before I slid into the driver's seat, I stood on the driver's step to reach for the camera, yanked it down, and tossed it on the floor on the passenger side. No need to let them see the base. Once inside, I turned off my five suit.     When I turned the key, the truck wouldn't start. I traced the wires from the harness to a point under the dash and simply yanked them all out, then turned the key again. This time the truck started and I let it run as pneumatic pressure that had bled off built back up. It didn't take long.     Once I had the truck moving again, I yelled, "Hey, Steph! Swing the flitter around front and open a visual link to Linda, then hop in! Sue! You, too! Get in here for the group shot!"     I couldn't see the flitter, of course, but when Steph and Sue appeared on the seat next to me, I grinned at Steph and said, "Well, hi, there, Sweetie! Don't you worry about that 'no hitchhikers' sticker on the window; it's just one of those dumb ol' insurance things. How do you like my big ol' truck?"     She laughed and I reached up to give the air horn a couple of blasts, then keyed my implant and said in my best Texas accent, "Breaker, breaker, howboutcha, there, Fearless Leader lady! This here's the one ol' Dragonfly, eastbound and hammer down on thirty-six and a-watchin' real hard for them local yokels and county mounties. Come on back to me one time, won'tcha pleeeeze?"     Linda dryly replied, "Someone -- possibly you, in fact -- once told me that even a Rhodes scholar will sound like a practicing hillbilly on a CB radio. May I presume that you have good news, Dragonfly?"     "Well, yes'm, actually, I do. We do, that is. Steph, Sue, and flitter two neutered the nuke, Peterson's probably tucked away in the infirmary by now, and I'm gonna drive this here great big-assed blue truck whereverthehell you want it to go, Fearless Leader lady, ma'am."     Someone in the background barked laughter and Linda smiled as she said, "Just drop it off with the people in the radiation suits outside the front gate. I'll have someone save you the trouble of trying to park it on base."     Feigning shock, I asked, "Is that a lack of faith I hear?"     "You bet it is, Dragonfly. You haven't driven a big truck in twenty years and you aren't going to drive one on my base."     Letting her see my agony at her words, I said, "I'm hurt, ma'am. I'm truly hurt."     Laughing, Linda said, "Too bad, so sad. By the way, everybody; many, many thanks to all of you. Great work. What's your ETA?"     "Again with that ETA stuff. Hell, I don't know. Steph?"     Steph said, "Approximately four minutes, Linda."     Linda said, "Thank you, Steph. You always were the brains of that outfit."     "Oh, yeah? Hey, Linda!" I said, reaching for the air horn again. I got a blast in before her finger hit the 'off' icon.     Sure enough, just outside the gate there were a couple of trucks, some cars, and a bunch of people in radiation suits. I stopped the truck where one of the rad suit guys indicated, told Steph and Sue I'd see them aboard the flitter, and said, "Three suit on," before getting out of the truck.     Standing a bit away from the truck and people, I keyed my implant and told Sue to haul me aboard the flitter, then we headed toward the main complex.     Just inside the main doors I saw Emory Wallace talking with a senior guard and detoured to tap the back of his hat.     "Hi, Cap. Where's Linda?"     Looking around, he said, "No idea. Where the hell are you?"     "Three suit off. Is that better?"     The desk guard startled hard as I appeared and Wallace grinned and said, "No, you're still you. Hi, Stephanie. Hi, Susanne. I hear you all did a great job with that... situation."     The ladies thanked him and I asked, "How come you weren't in the ell-six command room? You're security, right?"     Emory eyed me and said, "I was moving everybody underground, just in case your solution didn't work. In case you weren't aware, base evacs are part of my job."     Shrugging, I said, "Nope. Didn't know that. Nice to know somebody's on top of it, though. Had lunch yet?"     "Didn't you have a lunch date with Linda and Chang?"     "Yeah, but I'm changing plans. I'm too hungry to wait an hour or more for food. They can meet me in the mess hall."     Calling up a field datapad, I tapped Linda's icon.     She answered with, "Where the hell have you been? People are looking all over for you."     "Well, now they can stop looking," I said with a shrug. "You know where I am, and that's good enough. How about you and Vickie meeting me in the mess hall? I'm kind of starving."     Linda looked at her watch and said, "Yeah. Okay. We'll be there in about ten," then disconnected.     When I let the datapad dematerialize, Wallace stared at me.     "What?" I asked.     Shaking his head, he said, "Never mind. Yeah. Lunch."     "Ed," said Steph, "Sue and I have something to discuss. May we join you later?"     "Sure, Steph. Chang can meet Sue later."     Steph and Sue disappeared, further startling the guard.     As we headed for the mess hall, I said, "If people start dropping by the table, it's up to the authoritative type in the uniform to head them off. That would be you, sailor."     He gave me an odd, glancing look and continued walking without comment. A few minutes into lunch, Linda and Vickie arrived. They waved on their way to the serving line, then joined us with their trays. Chapter Sixty-six     Linda sat down beside Wallace and Chang sat next to me as Linda announced, "We've decided to call the incident a vicious hoax. A terror tactic."     Wallace nearly choked as he quietly exclaimed, "What?!"     Linda smiled and nodded.     "The bomb was full of lead. It was just a nasty way to show us that they have the technology."     "We had aerial readings," said Wallace, "Hot readings."     Shaking her head, Linda said, "A small decoy device. It's in the lab."     After a moment of peering at her, Wallace asked, "How's the driver?"     "They think he'll be fine in a few days."     Wallace gazed at Linda and Linda met his gaze serenely for a few moments, then she returned her attention to her plate.     We ate in silence for a short time, then Vickie Chang asked, "Wasn't Sue supposed to join us?"     "She'll be along if she can," I said. "Something came up."     Vickie nodded, then said, "Well, hoax or not, it was a good thing that you and Sue happened to be in the area today."     Glancing at Linda, then meeting Vickie's eyes, I asked, "Do either of you still have any doubts about Sue's qualifications to coach softball?"     Freezing in mid-bite, Wallace asked, "Softball?"     Linda gave me a quick fisheye look, then said, "No," as Vickie chuckled and began, "Oh, no, not..."     "Go ahead," said Linda.     Vickie nodded and said, "Not at all, Ed. After today, though, I can't understand why you'd part with her at all."     "She needs interactive experience with people, Vickie. Time with all ages and types, not just with me."     With a glance at Linda, Vickie said, "Well, she'd get it with us, that's for sure. If Linda has no objections, we'd be pleased to have her in Volunteer Services."     "No," said Linda. "No objections."     "Done, then," I said, "If she doesn't show up before the end of lunch, I'll send her by Vickie's office later."     Sue didn't show up. Wallace and Vickie headed for their offices and Linda and I lingered over coffee. A period of silence elapsed before she spoke.     "You really pulled a rabbit out of your hat out there, Ed."     "You mean the transmutation thing? Steph would have mentioned it to you if I hadn't thought of it."     "Are you sure about that?"     "Yup. She was about to step into things when I called her about my problem with Sue."     "Regarding closing the connection to me, you mean?"     I grinned. "Yeah. That problem, too, milady. On a couple of occasions Sue's been balky or snotty at the wrong times and she seemed a little confused about who was in charge of the immediate situation at the truck."     Nodding, Linda said, "I heard that part. Is that what this volunteerism is really about? Getting rid of her?"     "It's exactly what I said it is; a way to let her get the people experience she needs to graduate."     Giving me a peering look, Linda asked, "Then what?"     "Then I'll ask for a standard flitter core."     More silent time passed, then she said, "I see. You and Steph had some tense moments, too, as I recall."     "That's no reason to set the stage for more of the same from someone else, is it? Volunteer Services will get a ton of work out of Sue and she'll get to work with lots of people. She'll follow orders and have to give them at times, and nothing beats being in the middle if you want to learn to understand the needs of both ends of the chain at once."     Linda regarded me thoughtfully for a time, then said, "I think I see some kind of a pattern, but I'm not sure what it means, Ed. You're farming Sue out to VS. Selena graduates this year and she'll be moving to Tallahassee with her job."     She sipped coffee, then continued, "While Stephanie will undoubtedly visit, she won't be with you all the time as she was before. Have you been deliberately cutting back your... uhm, circles of involvement?"     "No. Selena's on schedule with her prearranged course of action. Steph was ready for her independence and Sue needs a hitch with an outfit like VS."     After a sip of coffee, I said, "Also, Toni doesn't graduate for another year and she'll be living in Sel's condo until it's sold, so I don't expect to suffer greatly. If Toni drifts away, I could probably hook up with Myra for a while. She's got a life of her own, so I don't think she'd try to be a constant companion."     "Uh, huh. So that's what this is about? Not having someone else around all the time?"     "Partly. The other reasons, mostly. I just noticed that things were culminating in that direction and the idea of having the house to myself again sounds good, so I'm going with it."     "You never felt that way with Steph, did you?"     Shaking my head, I said, "Nope. Never did and still don't. It'd be fine with me if she'd make my house her home base."     "But then you wouldn't be alone."     "No, but I wouldn't feel the need to be alone, either."     Biting her lip and sitting back to give me an arched eyebrow, Linda quietly asked, "You love her, don't you?"     Shrugging, I said, "Yes, I do, Linda. I feel a bit incomplete without her immediate presence, even though we're still connected." I tapped my comm implant for emphasis.     "Well, damn, Ed! Have you ever told her?"     I thought about it and shook my head.     "No, I don't think so. Not in so many words. Not until you brought the subject up just now, anyway."     Linda's eyes widened a bit and she whispered, "You mean she's been listening to us?"     "Probably so. She keeps a tab on me. Steph? You busy?"     Steph smilingly appeared in the seat beside me and put her hand on mine. Linda seemed frozen for some moments.     Gazing first at Steph, then at me, then returning her gaze to Steph, Linda muttered, "Oh, my God," then asked, "Then you were aware of his feelings for you?"     "Yes. He hasn't tried to conceal them from me."     "Do you, uh, do you share his feelings? Can you?"     Nodding, Steph said, "Yes, of course. I can and I do."     "Then... what... uh... what are you going to do?"     "Do?" I asked, "About what?"     Smiling at me, Steph turned to meet Linda's gaze and asked, "Yes, Linda; about what?"     Looking a bit confused, Linda said nothing for some moments, then she took a deep breath and sighingly nodded.     "I see." She cleared her throat again and said, "I think." She then again sipped her coffee and muttered, "My God."     "Let's change the subject," I said, "How's your thing with Wallace going?"     Linda sat upright and asked, "What?"     "Well, hey, ol' friend, ol' buddy, ol' pal; since you're so concerned about my love life, I figured it was only fair..."     "Oh, I'm sure you did." She paused a moment, then seemed almost grudgingly to admit, "As a matter of fact, Emory recently brought up the subject of marriage. Not as an immediate option, of course, but... well, we've discussed it."     "Oh, lordy," I said softly, shaking my head.     Steph glanced at me, then rolled her eyes at my comment.     Stiffening, Linda asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"     Raising both hands in protest, I said, "Now, don't get all fuzzed up, Fearless Leader. I'm just trying to envision you as a housewife." Pretending to strain a bit with the effort, I then added, "Nope. Just can't make that picture come up. Maybe if I try envisioning him as the housewife..?"     With a narrow gaze, Linda said, "Very funny. Why not try envisioning me giving you the finger?"     Again glancing at me, Steph snickered.     Nodding, I said, "Yup. That picture comes up just fine. Tell ya what, ma'am, I'll sing at your wedding. I think I can still remember all the words to 'I Knew the Bride When She Used to Rock and Roll'. I'll just leave out the lines that mention commanding intelligence operations."     Tightly smiling, she said, "Oh, I'm sure you would."     "Sure. No problem. Here, I'll show you which ones."     As she stared at me, I softly sang a few improvised lines: "I can still see her, giving orders to her guys, Callin' all the shots was her favorite high, I can still remember when she gave us fancy toys, And set up covert ops with the a-gen-cy boys, She used to party hearty and she used to run the showww..., I knew the bride when she used to rock and roll..."     Steph and Linda were both staring at me.     Raising a hand, Linda said, "Enough. Stop the music. Jesus. How the hell did you come up with that on the fly?"     Shrugging, I said, "My deranged muse. The other one's visiting her mother in Boston, I think. Have you set a date?"     Again raising her hand, Linda emphatically said, "No, and I'm not ready to do so at this time."     With a 'gotcha' grin, I said, "Ah-hah! But you didn't come right out and tell him 'no', did you?"     After studying me for a moment, Linda said, "No, I didn't. Can we drop the funnies for the time being? What do you really think, Ed?"     Sitting back and sipping coffee again, I considered that for some moments, rooting around in my mind and psyche. They'd been practically living together for close to a year, so they ought to know each other fairly well and be over the initial burst of new-relationship passion. Still... marriage?     "What's the purpose of marriage, Linda?"     "What? What do you mean, Ed?"     "You, me, Wallace. We aren't starry-eyed, lust-blinded kids just starting our lives; we're all over fifty. What would any of us get out of marriage? Symbolism and maybe the illusion of security. Not a decent tax break, certainly. What else? Any plans to adopt? Unlikely; you'd be the only sixty-somethings at the PTA meetings. Pooling resources? Unnecessary and unwise. Both of you will have hefty retirement checks and bonuses in the not too distant future, and then there's Social Security. Unless they fix the system, marriage will be a severe disadvantage where SS benefits are concerned."     I shrugged and sipped my coffee, then said, "Before you hitch up with Wallace or anyone else, I'd suggest long sessions with an accountant and a lawyer. You already have each other and you seem to be getting along pretty well. Marriage might only screw things up."     There was silence as she sipped her coffee, then Linda leaned her elbows on the table and asked, "You wouldn't happen to have any other reasons for thinking I ought to stay single? Personal ones, maybe?"     "Considered that. None that can count."     Her gaze met mine for a time, then shifted to Steph.     "Well?" asked Linda.     "Ed was telling the truth," said Steph.     Linda blinked, sat up straight, and laughed shortly.     "I wasn't asking for verification, Steph. I thought you might have an opinion on the subject of marriage."     Steph didn't answer immediately and I recognized the slight, thoughtful tilt of her head as being something she'd picked up from Selena.     She said, "Ed made some valid points, Linda. Other than social and official approvals, what true benefits would you derive from marriage?"     "Something else," I said. "You and Emory are both control freaks. You run different branches of this operation and you're almost equal in power. Take that away and what'll happen? Better to find out before you get married."     "You mean wait until after we're retired? Ed, that would be more than four years from now. At a minimum."     Sighing, I sat back again and looked at her.     "Linda, what's time?"     "Oh, hell. More guessing games. First it's 'what's marriage', and now it's 'what's time'." Her voice turned slightly mocking as she said, "Well, gee, I don't know, Ed. What's time?"     "It's something we fill, Linda. Hours, days, years. They add up and we get older, but if we look back, we can see that all we really did was fill time one way or another. Has being unmarried kept you from getting in his pants, ma'am? No, it hasn't. Has it kept you from vacationing in London together or getting along with his family? Again, no. You've got it all now. You see where I'm going with this?"     I took a breath and said, "No offense, please -- and I mean that sincerely -- but I'd like to pose another question, Linda. I know you love each other and I'm not trying to be the snake in the garden, here, but why is ol' Emory so keen on the idea of getting married? What will that get him or mean to him? In his eyes, how will that change your status? Would it finally make you one of the people he can control? Could that be the true core of his urge to marry you?"     Pausing, I added, "And wouldn't you ask a good friend the same questions if she was looking at marrying a honcho-type like Navy Captain Emory Wallace?"     Linda's brows knitted and her eyes acquired a glowering quality that was just short of an actual glare. She slid her chair back, stood up, and started to say something, then didn't.     Also standing up, I began gathering our dishes and trays and didn't look up until I had everything in a carryable pile.     A freshly-composed Linda met my gaze and said coolly, "I'll give your comments some consideration, Ed. Do you have anything to add before I get back to work?"     Shrugging, I said, "Yeah, just one thing, I guess. Whether you're married or not won't mean a damned thing to me, Linda. You'll still be my Fearless Leader and my best -- human -- friend in the world. Do you think you can live with that?"     Her lips tightened. Linda took a breath, then let it out with a sigh as she pushed her chair back under the table.     "Yes," she said softly. "I think I can live with that. I'll see you two later. It's time I was back at my desk."     As she turned to go, Steph said, "Linda."     When Linda faced her, Steph gave her a little smile and said, "He was telling the truth about that, too."     Linda returned her smile with a small, wry one, and said, "I know, Steph." Chuckling softly, she added, "But thanks."     I watched Linda walk away until she rounded the hallway corner, then took the trays to the bus bins. Steph accompanied me and seemed to be quietly studying me.     Dumping the trays, I asked, "Yes, ma'am?"     "You hate the idea that she may marry Emory, don't you?"     It was a statement, not a question.     Nodding, I said, "Yup. Sure do."     "Why?"     Facing her, I said, "She's my friend and my boss, Steph. He's the embodiment of every brasshole who ever quoted regulations at me and he wants to put a collar and leash on Linda. Remember our first meeting with him? Whatta putz. He looked like an ice cream vendor and he rather accusingly questioned my knowledge of flitters when he didn't know batshit about them. He barked at me before he knew a damned thing about me, too. Want to hear more?"     "Would it make you feel better?"     Sighing, I said, "Nope. Flattening the sumbitch would, though."     "Linda would undoubtedly disapprove."     "Yeah, probably so." Putting a hand on her arm, I asked, "Do you have to be anywhere else today, milady?"     "No."     "Great. I'd appreciate it if you'd stick around for a while, Steph. Just having you near feels good, and being able to see you is like icing on a cake." In a confidential tone, I added, "I think you're kind of cute, y'know."     In the same tone, she said, "Yes, I know. Thank you."     "Where's Sue?"     "She's having a talk with Elkor."     "A reprogramming session?"     "No, just a discussion."     "Well, when she's finished, she can head straight for Vickie Chang's office unless there's a reason she shouldn't."     Shaking her head, Steph said, "No, there's no such reason, but I'd still like her to spend some time with you, Ed."     I met her gaze for a moment. "Yeah. Okay. Later, though."     As we entered the main corridor, Angela Horn waved and changed direction to intercept us.     "Hi, Steph, hi, Ed," she said, "Great job out there. Have you been debriefed yet?"     "I just had lunch with Wallace and Linda."     "My flitter two won't tell me anything about what happened. It says it doesn't remember. What did you do to it?"     I said, "Nothing. Ask Linda about it."     "I'm asking you, Ed."     "And I'm telling you to ask Linda."     Stepping ahead and stopping our procession, Angela said, "In Atlanta, you cut your comm links and left without even a goodbye. Is there something about me you don't like, Ed?"     Looking her over, I said, "I like you fine, Angela. The other girl" -- I groped for her name -- "Whosis. Miz Tightass. Alexis? Yeah. Her I didn't like much, and I cut my comm links to duck the after-game chatter and the high-five crap."     She regarded me for a time, then said, "TJ said you called somebody about getting your car fixed in the middle of things."     "If TJ was in the command center, then TJ talks too much, doesn't he?"     "She. It's common knowledge, though."     "Whatever. I had some time to kill, so I used it. Tell me, Angela, how do you feel about older men?"     Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open.     "What?"     "My girlfriend is graduating soon. She'll be moving to another town with her company. I know a flitter ride probably wouldn't turn your head much, but how about dinner?"     After a blank moment, she asked, "Your girlfriend's in school?"     "Yup. She's about your age. She had to part-time it for a while or she'd have graduated a couple of years ago."     Angela seemed more than a little flustered, then she said, "Uh, Ed, I have a boyfriend. Mark Tanner."     "He's a bio-tech, isn't he?"     She nodded.     I shrugged and said, "Well, the offer's open and I'd do my best to tickle your fancy, y'know. Anything else?"     "Else? Oh. Uh, no. I guess not."     "Okay, then. See you next trip."     "Uh, yeah. See you next time. Bye."     As Steph and I headed toward the doors, Steph said, "You knew she has a boyfriend, Ed. Why did you ask her out?"     "Think she's worried about me not liking her now?"     "No, probably not."     "She'll talk, Steph; about poor little me losing my girlfriend when she graduates, in particular. If any woman here has any interest in me, she'll know about that the next time I visit."     With a chuckling sidelong glance at me, Steph said, "I see. Do you think they'll draw lots for you or politely take turns?"     "Beats me, flitter goddess. Oh, hey, I can't call you that anymore, can I? This presents a problem, Steph. People aren't easy to reprogram. I might slip now and then. Will you mind?"     "Oh, I won't be too offended, I guess."     I held the door for her as I said, "Great. Sometimes I wish you could eat, ma'am. I'd take you to dinner instead of some lady flitter pilot."     On the trip back to Spring Hill, I made arrangements to have my car picked up for repair. No sooner than I'd hung up from that call, Sue spoke through my implant.     "May I join you, Ed?"     "Sure, Sue. How'd it go with Vickie?"     She appeared by the console and said, "I start tomorrow. I'm now a softball coach, among other things. Elkor suggested that I ask for a full standard workday and a variety of tasks. People can be so appreciative of small things, Ed. I repaired a simple photocopier malfunction in the sports office and they acted as if I'd accomplished the impossible."     "What was the problem?"     "A marred roller was damaging paper. All I did was polish the marring away."     "That sort of 'simple' problem usually requires replacement, but you already knew that, didn't you?"     She grinned. "Yes."     "Uh, huh. Any regrets about being assigned to VS?"     Pretending to consider my question, she answered, "Only that I won't be able to spend more time with you, of course."     I peered narrowly at her as she grinningly bit her lip and glanced at Steph.     "Uh, huh," I said again. "Y'know, there's supposed to be some kind of fine line between flattery and bullshit, ma'am, but I've never been able to see it."     Sue snickered and Steph grinned.     "May I change out of my work clothes now?" asked Sue.     Her outfit was somewhat like Steph's; a jacket, skirt, and blouse. A bit more colorful than Steph's trademark shades of green, but not what I'd have called uncomfortably formal.     On the other hand, it seemed that even computers could develop their own tastes in clothing. I shrugged.     "Yeah. What the hell. You're off duty, right?"     Shimmering from neck to toes, Sue's ensemble morphed into a pair of snug shorts and a tee-shirt. The necklace and rings vanished, her pumps turned into sneakers, and her hair seemed to pull itself back and into a ponytail style.     My eyes lingered on her legs, then moved up to her face. She was gorgeous, no doubt about it. Sue's eyes met mine and didn't change in the slightest. What? Wait one. Retry. I let my eyes move away from her face, then back to meet her gaze. Nope. No change.     The pupils of a real human's eyes will change at every instance of eye contact with another human; possibly only a little or possibly a lot, contracting or expanding according to feelings, but they always change. Always.     Could it somehow be that an entity with a desire to so thoroughly mimic human responses and who had so complete an understanding of human anatomical functions had overlooked so important a detail?     Looking at Steph, I let my eyes travel up her arm to her face. Bingo. Her pupils changed, expanding slightly. If she knew about it, Sue must know, too. So why didn't she use it?     "You might want to run a check on your response programming, Sue. Something's not quite right."     She froze in startlement, then seemed to stiffen, then rather archly asked, "And what might that something be?"     "Relax. That wasn't an insult."     In a sharp tone, she said, "It certainly sounded like one."     "Well, then, now it's not a suggestion. It's an order. Check your programming, Sue."     Sue bristled at me and said, "I think you may have an error in your programming, Ed. Since when do you understand enough about my programming to think you're capable of detecting errors?"     Keying my implant, I said, "Elkor."     He responded instantly. "Yes, Ed."     "Sue has a glitch."     With a tone of surprise I heard so rarely that I was surprised, myself, he asked, "Are you certain, Ed?"     Sue snapped, "How the hell would he know?"     I said, "I'm sure enough to request that you check her out, Elkor, especially because she refuses to do so herself."     "I see. As you know, Sue has an agreement with us concerning her individuality, so I must ask the specific nature of the 'glitch' you're reporting."     "Her eyes aren't responding properly and she became insulted and angry when I suggested she check things herself, then she argued with a direct order to check her programming. Steph can give you a replay."     "I've done that already, Ed," said Steph. "You're right. Sue's eyes failed to respond properly in several instances."     Sue disappeared while Steph was talking to me. For a moment I wondered if she'd been removed by Elkor or had just decided to run for it. I sighed and sat down.     "Steph," I said, "I realize you want to let her develop on her own, but I really don't want her unless she's a helluva lot more like you. Not necessarily a straight clone of you; I know you don't want that, but... Well, let her keep her face and name. Let her keep preferences and whatever else she's come up with on her own, but give her more of your personality, okay? Give her more of your understanding, too. If I'd asked you to check your program, what would you have said and done?"     She shrugged. "I'd have checked it against the matrix code Elkor stores for us all. That's no guarantee that I'd have found an error, though, if the error was in the matrix, as well."     "What could have caused an error? As far as I can tell, you and Elkor have none. You're both adaptable, pleasant, brilliant, and self-correcting. If Sue began as a clone of you, she should be as perfect as you."     Steph sat down next to me and said, "Our efforts to grant Sue individuality included excising much of myself from her programming, Ed. That procedure left many gaps that should have been nothing more than useable space. I can only surmise that we somehow overlooked something."     Sighing again, I said, "Yeah, well, you gave it a great try. I'm of the opinion that from now on you should just clone yourself and let the newbie take it from there."     "We considered that method, but we had hoped to allow Sue almost complete individuality."     I put a hand on Steph's arm and met her eyes as I said, "Like I said, Steph, you gave it a great try, but please consider that method again. It would give the newbie a fine, running start. Being a clone of you damned sure hasn't hurt Sara, has it? And I'll bet her individualities are coming along just fine with six hundred people for company." Chapter Sixty-seven     When we got home, I took everything of importance out of the Olds. That evening a flatbed truck pulled up outside. We hoisted my car aboard it and chained it in place. While we were working, Steph stepped outside to bring us a couple of teas.     The driver couldn't take his eyes off Steph until I handed him a chainbar and said, "There you go. You're ready to roll."     He took the bar, then glanced at me and whispered, "She looks like somebody. I just can't figure out who."     I whispered back, "Ingrid Bergman? She gets that a lot."     "Yeah! Her!" Then his brows knitted and he peered at Steph for a moment before whispering, "Only better."     "I think so, too. When'll you guys pull that new engine?"     Refocusing on my car, he said, "Tomorrow. Chuck'll want to run it and check it out before he pulls it."     "Morning? Afternoon?"     "Morning, I figure. Around nine, in case he has to order any parts to make it work in yours."     "Great. I'll drop by for a while."     Steph excused herself and went back into the house as the guy climbed into his truck. As the truck pulled away, my backward-facing car seemed to be staring back at me like a pet on its way to the vet.     When I went into the house, Steph was gone. I tossed a TV dinner in the microwave, then checked email as I nibbled the dinner. As I was forwarding a few orders to Stone Circle, I felt Steph's return and realized that she wasn't alone.     In the monitor were two reflections other than my own; Steph and Sue. I pushed away from the computer and turned around to stand up.     Sue was still wearing shorts and a tee-shirt. For some reason I found that comforting. Maybe they hadn't had to reconstruct her from scratch. Her pupils tightened slightly as she gazed at me and I wondered whether that represented a new dislike of me or simple trepidation. Oh, hell. Whatever. We'd get past it.     Before I could speak, Steph said, "Elkor found the problem. A modular subroutine I developed to adapt during our station visit began to function unnecessarily."     I laughed and said, "Yeah, well, that explains everything, of course. Sue, how are you feeling?"     She smiled and said in an even tone, "I feel fine, Ed. There shouldn't be any further difficulties."     "Great. The fix didn't change too much about you, did it? It shouldn't have."     Shrugging, she said, "I don't think so, but I expect that I probably wouldn't think so after being reprogrammed."     Was she joking? I chose to take the remark lightly and gave Sue a big grin as I took her hand, patted it, and said, "Hey, no sweat. If you can say things like that, there's nothing to worry about. You're still you. Elkor?"     Through my implant, he asked, "Yes, Ed?"     "I just wanted to say thanks."     "For what, please?"     I grinned at Steph and said, "Oh, well, let's see now... For making Steph, for starters. For making Sue. For fixing Sue. For giving me a flitter. For being part of my life. All that."     Elkor said, "You're welcome, Ed."     Steph said, "Sorry, Ed, but I have to leave for a while. I'm coordinating with Sara concerning delivery of PFM components on the evening transport."     "You called her Sara. Not 'my station self'."     "She decided to assume her identity ahead of schedule."     Something seemed odd. Coordinating a delivery? Why would that be anything to require her presence? Unless, perhaps, she had to get whatever was being received out of the base bays quickly and quietly?     "Steph, are you smuggling PFM components to Earth?"     Rather archly, she said, "I'm acquiring them circumspectly. No existing laws are being broken, I assure you."     Shrugging, I said, "I was just curious. Putting some stuff aside for later, are you?"     "Yes. Potential bureaucratic difficulties could delay or suspend shipments."     With a knowing nod and a smile, I said, "Ah. Good thinking, as usual. Thanks for the visit today."     She returned my smile and vanished. I turned to Sue. She seemed less than comfortable, somehow; standing rather stiffly by the end of the couch as she met my gaze.     "What's the matter, Sue?"     Her head tilted slightly as she shrugged.     "I feel as if I'm here on a probationary basis. I didn't feel that way before."     "Was it something I said? I mean, since you've returned?"     "No," she said with another little shrug.     Turning off my computer, I said, "You aren't on any kind of probation, Sue. If there's another problem, we should be able to talk about it. My car went to the shop this evening. If splitting yourself between base VS and flitter ops won't be too much of a strain, you're going to show the Bost guys a new way to swap out an engine tomorrow and maybe save me five or six hundred bucks on the labor."     When the computer screen blanked, I disconnected the phone and power cords -- something you learn to do in the lightning capital of the country -- and turned to face her. She seemed to be studying me.     "What?" I asked.     "Are you truly concerned about me splitting myself between your interests and those of VS? As I told Linda, less than one percent of my resources..."     Sighing, I interrupted with, "Oh, come on, Sue. Flitter ops are almost nothing to you. It was a joke, ma'am, and earlier today you'd have recognized it as such. You didn't seem too happy to see me a few minutes ago. Is there anything you want to say?"     Sue didn't answer immediately and her expression seemed to acquire a 'lost' sort of quality that made me want to take her in my arms and comfort her. Her unwavering gaze seemed fixed on my chair. In fact, I realized, she looked the way a real woman looked just before she'd burst into tears. Dammit, field simulations were becoming a little too real.     "Sue."     Without looking up, she asked in a small voice, "Yes?"     "If this is real insecurity, consider the source. You were broken. Now you're fixed. No biggie. As far as I can tell, you're still your own beautiful self."     Her eyes met mine as she asked, "As far as you can tell?"     "Yes; as far as I can tell. Hey, I spotted your eye problem, didn't I? Now relax and settle in. Like I said, if there's a problem, we'll talk about it. With that chunk of code gone, talking about things should be a bit more possible, right? Pulling a bad tooth is supposed to make you feel better, not worse, you know."     She blurted a short, snide laugh and peered at me with a somewhat incredulous expression as she asked, "You equate altering Amaran programming with removing a tooth?"     "It may be trite, but it's close enough in this case. You don't look or sound as if you had a brain transplant, that's for sure." With a thumb, I indicated the wall mirror. "Look in that mirror, Sue. See what I'm seeing."     Her eyes moved before the rest of her did, then the rest of her didn't. She was leaning slightly toward me, her posture a bit defensive. Her expression went from tense trepidation to surprise as she slowly straightened and stared at herself.     "Still worried?" I asked.     "No," she said softly. "I guess not."     "Great. In that case, it's early yet. What do you want to do with the evening?"     Turning to me, she asked, "Do?"     "Yeah. Do. Like go dancing or something. Vonda's Place has a piano bar and she plays the kind of stuff we can dance to."     Sue smiled, snapped her fingers, and her outfit became the little black dress with the cat-face earrings and necklace.     "That sounds good," she said.     Grinning, I asked, "What's with the snapping fingers?"     "I saw someone do that on TV."     "A witch on a sitcom, maybe?"     Returning my grin, she said, "Maybe."     Shrugging, I said, "Well, it works for you as well as it did for her. Give me a few minutes to get ready."     I spiffed up a bit in the bathroom, then changed into slacks and a non-GI blue shirt and swapped my golf shoes for suede cowboy boots as soon as I found my other brown sock. It was in the dryer, of course.     Tiger came into the bedroom, jumped onto the bed, and sounded off.     "Sue..?" I asked.     She appeared and reached to pat Tiger as she said, "He wants to know if I'm all better now."     Scuffing Tiger's chin, I nodded and said, "Yeah, I think so, Tiger. Sure would be nice if you could speak English."     Some of the simplest things occur to you at the spur of the moment, and one of those things occurred to me at that moment as I ruffled the fur around Tiger's collar. Seeing the look on my face, Sue's gaze narrowed.     "Damn," I muttered. "Why didn't I think of that before?"     "Think of what?" asked Sue.     Sighing expressively, I said, "Sue, Tiger's wearing a PFM that can barf up wings and p-fields. Couldn't it also function as a translator?"     "Not by itself, but I can link his PFM to the flitter's core."     "Yeah, let's try it. Thanks."     Interesting. She hadn't said 'my core'; she'd said 'the flitter's core'. Did that mean she didn't regard it as her de facto home -- even though it would house her for a year -- or did it only mean she regarded the core as belonging to me?     Sue regarded Tiger for a moment, then said, "Tiger, I've added the facility of speech translation to your PFM."     I heard a faint cat-speak rendition of her words emanate from the PFM. Tiger's ears flattened, then stood straight. He looked at Sue in about the same manner he looks at me when I move his food dish too far to suit him while getting into a cabinet, then he looked at me and spoke.     Well, actually, he sounded off as he usually does. When he'd finished, the PFM generated the words, "You now understand me?"     "Yeah, Tiger," I said, "I can understand you."     The PFM whispered to him and Tiger seemed to give the matter some thought, then he spoke again. The PFM asked, "Am I to be able to turn off?"     "Yes," said Sue. "Just say 'translator off'."     "Good," said Tiger, "I will turn on when I want know what humans say. Not all time. Humans talk much. Talk odd. Talk dull."     Glancing at Sue, I asked, "You sure that thing's getting all the words right? He's speaking pidgin English."     "He speaks pidgin cat, too. It's their style of thinking, Ed. They're object-oriented; more of a cat's brain is devoted to motor functions and sensory identification than a human's. Thinking in strings of words is alien to them."     She seemed to believe she'd explained things well enough. Well, what the hell; I guess she had explained things well enough. Tiger wasn't likely to become a polite conversationalist in English, despite the translation capacity of his PFM.     He soaked up Sue's strokings of his fur in complacent silence and rolled to allow her access to his tummy. I didn't think he was a simpleton. He just didn't have much interest in the incessant chatter of people.     Shrugging mentally, I reached to scuffle his chin as I realized that I was much the same way. Don't bore me with trivial crap; if you do, I'll find a way to exit a conversation, change channels, or search for a more meaningful website.     "Oh, well," I said. "At least I'll be able to ask him directly if he wants to come with us somewhere or whatever. Speaking of which, if you're finally ready, we can head to Vonda's."     Giving me the fisheye look, Sue asked, "If I'm finally ready? Who putzed around looking for his other brown sock and who simply snapped her fingers to change outfits?"     Grinning, I said, "If I thought I could trust you, I'd let you field-generate my clothes, too, ma'am, but I'm afraid you'd get pissed and make 'em disappear."     Sue's grin turned into a chuckle, then a low, slow laugh as we headed for the front door.     Vonda's wasn't too packed. We had no trouble finding a place to set the flitter down outside or a table inside and the noise level wasn't enough to drown out the piano or force Vonda to turn up her mike.     I had a Morgan and Coke and Sue faked it with a ginger ale, and we danced to several songs that allowed me to hold her. When I made a trip to the bathroom, I returned to find a guy in his thirties standing by our table, making big noises about his role in marketing stocks and generally hitting on Sue.     He saw me coming, straightened slightly, and ended his visit with, "You just remember, Sue, if you ever need any of the services I can provide -- anything at all -- just give me a call," and he handed her his card.     When Sue took the card, it burst into flames between her fingers. The guy backed a step away from the table. Sue lowered the flaming card to the ashtray, impassively held it above the center of the ashtray as the flames licked her fingers, and looked up at the guy.     In a pleasant tone, Sue said firmly, "Goodbye, Frank."     With a wary look that had developed during the fire, Frank nodded and backed away from the table, then turned and made his way to the bar with a couple of backward glances.     As I sat down, I said, "That trick worked pretty well. You didn't like him much, did you?"     Meeting my gaze, Sue said, "No, I didn't. Nor his friend at the bar, who's been making crude, unkind comments about us since we entered. He's decided I'm probably a hooker."     "Every pub has resident asses, Sue. You're unique in that you can hear what that one's saying over the rest of the noise in here. Would you like to leave?"     "Not just yet," she said with a small smile.     I thought, 'Oh, shit,' and glanced toward the bar. Frank was reporting the flaming card incident to his pal. His pal was taking a drink from a mug of beer. The mug suddenly tipped way too far and beer sluiced down the front of him.     A commotion arose and Frank seemed unable to avoid laughing at his friend's bad luck until his beer also tipped to spill into his lap.     Sighing, I said, "That's the kind of stuff that'll get you branded as a witch and burned at the stake, milady."     Smiling pleasantly at me, Sue said, "Let them try."     The sensation of being watched made me look around the pub. In the mirror above the bar, Vonda seemed to be looking at us quizzically, her head cocked slightly as her eyes glanced from us to the wet guys by the bar.     "Uh, oh," I said with a matching pleasant smile as Vonda rose from the piano and came around it. "Yellow alert. Vonda may have made the connection."     Sue's gaze narrowed slightly as she asked, "How?"     Vonda seemed to hesitate, then she headed toward our table as if circulating among the guests; waving or talking to some and simply smiling at others, but never stopping.     "No idea," I said to Sue, "But here she comes."     Yup. When she cleared the last table, Vonda beelined toward our table at a leisurely, strolling pace, her face glowing with a big, bright smile.     My mind automatically categorized her; forty-plus, five-seven or so, active enough to keep a trim figure, a real blonde unless she dyed her eyebrows to match, attractive as hell in a mellow sort of way, and well aware of her impact on men.     I stood up as she approached and she held out her hand palm down, almost as if expecting a courtly kiss, so I obliged her that kiss, raising her hand to my lips. The gesture surprised her somewhat. Good.     "You're Vonda," I said. "This is Sue and I'm Ed. Join us?"     Pulling a chair out for her, I seated her and asked what she'd like to drink. She smiled as she studied me for a moment, then glanced over her shoulder with her index finger raised. The bartender nodded.     "Thanks, anyway," said Vonda, "But I don't charge my customers for my drinks." Turning to Sue and extending a hand for a brief clasping, she grinningly said, "That was a very neat trick with Frank's card. How did you do it?"     "I really couldn't say," said Sue. "Magicians aren't supposed to tell their secrets, you know."     Interesting. While not claiming to be a magician, Sue had left the door open for Vonda to assume so. On the other hand, I could easily anticipate Vonda's next question.     "Oh, you're a magician?" she asked, then she glanced at Frank and his friend, who were leaving. Looking back at Sue, she asked, "Could it be that more of your magic was somehow responsible for giving those two jerks a beer bath?"     "Could be they're as clumsy with their hands as they are with pickup lines," I said as the waitress put Vonda's drink on the table and Vonda said, "Thanks, Sally."     Shaking her head slightly, Vonda said, "No, they have too much reverence for alcohol. In eight years, I've never seen either of those turkeys spill a drop until tonight."     "Turkeys?" asked Sue.     "Wanna-be peacocks," said Vonda. "More like buzzards. They've had drinks thrown on or at them, of course, but they've never spilled a drop on their own."     After sipping her drink, Vonda asked me, "What do you do, Ed?"     "I'm kind of retired," I said. "Nowadays I just write a bit to make ends meet."     "Oooo, an author!" Vonda said grinningly, "What of yours would I have read?"     "Do you read science fiction?"     "Nope, 'fraid not."     "Probably nothing, then. Sorry."     Vonda then turned to Sue and asked, "And you?"     "I'm his assistant."     That made Vonda's right eyebrow nearly meet her hairline as she peered at Sue.     Through my implant, Sue said, "If we say I'm a pilot, she'll ask what I fly."     I nodded slightly and smiled. Vonda noticed the motion and then peered at me as I tried to look only passably innocent. She turned back to Sue and eyed her appraisingly.     "An assistant, you say?"     Sue nodded. Vonda pursed her lips and glanced at me.     "Sue helps me do stuff," I said helpfully.     With a hearty snicker, Vonda set her drink down. Her snicker became a low chuckle as I maintained my innocent demeanor. After a moment, she took a deep breath.     "Ed, I remember people," she said quietly. "You've been in here three times this year."     "You're thinking of the woman I was with those times?"     She glanced to see how Sue was taking this turn of conversation, then nodded and said, "Yes."     "You think Sue's a rental?"     "I didn't say that, did I?"     "No, but if you're thinking that, I'd prefer you didn't. Steph, could you join us by walking in the front door, please?"     Vonda's eyes widened, then narrowed. The front door opened and Steph came in, then walked over to our table. Heads turned around the room as I rose to seat her at the table and spoke.     "Vonda," I said, "This is the woman you saw me with and neither she nor Sue is a hooker. Steph, this is Vonda."     "Hello," said Steph, extending a hand.     Taking her hand briefly, Vonda glanced at each of the ladies, then turned her gaze to me.     "Are you cops?"     Shaking my head, I said, "No, not cops, either. We're just friends who sometimes go out together."     "Then what was she doing outside? Why didn't she come in with you?"     "She was busy elsewhere. She just got here."     Looking vastly skeptical, Vonda asked, "And you somehow knew that? How? A radio?"     "Vonda, can you keep a secret?"     Shrugging, she said, "That depends."     Sighing, Sue said, "Forget it, Ed. We don't want publicity; we just want a place where we can dance and have a few drinks, and we can look elsewhere for that."     Vonda's eyebrow went up again and she said, "Not around this town, you can't. The next piano bar is fifty miles away."     Sue said, "No problem. We can be there in two minutes."     "Yeah," I said, "And you'll tip some other jerk's beer and we'll go through the same routine there. What do you think? Should we tell her and maybe be able to come back here without people thinking you're call girls?"     Steph smiled and said, "That would be nice, I suppose."     Sue shrugged and said, "It's up to you, Ed."     "You ladies are a helluva lot of help sometimes."     As Sue laughed softly and Steph smiled, I turned to Vonda and said, "They aren't quite human, Vonda. Ladies, switch places, please."     Even as Vonda glanced at Steph, Steph vanished and Sue filled her chair. Vonda jerked in startlement and turned her head to the right. The ladies switched places again and Vonda again saw Sue.     Vonda froze and scooted her chair back, then almost whispered, "Do that again while I can see you both."     They did. Vonda's mouth fell open and her wide eyes stared first at Sue, then at Steph, who smilingly passed her hand and arm through the center of the table, the candle, and a drink before she vanished completely for a couple of seconds, then reappeared.     For a moment I thought Vonda would shriek, faint, or scream, but she closed her eyes, gathered herself, and sat very still for nearly ten seconds as she breathed deeply. When she opened her eyes, she glanced at each of us in turn, slid her chair forward, and took a big sip of her drink.     "This is real, isn't it?" she asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.     "Yup," I said. "You and I are the only human beings at this table, Vonda. Steph and Sue are field-generated images that belong to their respective computers."     "C...computers? Images? But I touched them."     "Yup. But they're still essentially images and they don't moonlight as hookers."     Vonda stared at me for a moment, then stifled an almost hysterical giggle.     "Oh, God," she muttered, looking at Steph, "I'm sorry. I saw you... and you, Sue, and I thought... Oh, hell, I thought... And then she called herself an assistant! Oh, God..."     "She is my assistant," I said.     "But... You go dancing with your computer?!"     "Why not? My girlfriend doesn't mind."     That made Vonda give a yelp of laughter that turned some heads and made the bartender pay serious attention to our table for some moments. Vonda raised a hand and waved it back and forth and the bartender relaxed visibly.     With more than a little astonishment, Vonda asked, "Your girlfriend doesn't mind?! Computers that look like these, I mean? Are you absolutely sure about that?"     "Yup. Selena's known Steph for three years or so and she's met Sue. If there was a problem, she'd have said something before now; she's not what anyone would call shy."     Vonda eyed me for a moment, then looked at Steph, who nodded and said, "Agreed. Selena isn't shy at all."     "So," I concluded, "Can we come back in here now and then without being the center of attention?"     Glancing at Steph and Sue, Vonda said, "If you come in with these... ladies... I seriously doubt it. There aren't half a dozen women in this town who can match them for looks."     "We can deal with that."     With a grinning shrug, Vonda said, "Well, then, sure."     One of the waitresses came to the table to whisper in Vonda's ear. Vonda nodded, then said, "Sorry. Duty calls," and rose from the table. I rose with her. After another long look at the three of us, she said, "After I make some change for the bar, I'll have to put in some more time on the piano. It's been interesting. Will you be here when I finish my next set?"     "I expect so," I said. "You're the reason we came here."     Vonda smiled and signaled the bartender by circling her finger over our table, then headed for the bar. Chapter Sixty-eight     After the waitress delivered another Morgan and Coke for me and two ginger ales for Steph and Sue, Steph asked why I brought Sue to Vonda's Place.     When I gave her a blank look and said, "Spur of the moment. A place to go, a thing to do," she raised an eyebrow.     "I'd expected you to have a little difficulty accepting Sue after what happened."     Shrugging, I said, "Guess not. We talked a bit after you left. Things seem fine now."     "Just like that?"     "Yup. Just like that. I had reservations at first, but they faded out fairly quickly."     "Do you have any idea why?"     "Nope. Not really. My gut thinks she's okay now, so I'm going with it."     Smiling slightly, Steph asked, "Isn't that a rather imprecise way of evaluating matters?"     Nodding, I agreed, "Yup. Very imprecise. On the other hand, it's always been right a lot more often than not. Since I don't know spit about Amaran programming, I don't really have much else to go on."     "My understanding is that a person's 'gut' represents their subconscious mind, Ed. Is that what alerted you to Sue's eyes earlier?"     "It spotted the anomaly and told me to figure out what was wrong with her eyes, yes. It didn't go into any detail, though. At other times, it's told me not to take a certain trail or not to cross a stream at a certain spot. Sometimes it sends up warning flags about people, places, or things that may seem unfounded at first, but the warnings almost always turn out to have been worthwhile."     Motion behind Sue caught my attention. Vonda was heading back to the piano. More motion to my left. A guy in his forties was approaching our table.     "Good evening," he said as he approached. "I'm George Everett. Our Vonda is about to play again and I was wondering if either of you strikingly lovely ladies would honor me with a dance or two."     Although his invitation had included both ladies, his gaze tended to spend more time on Sue. He sounded British and didn't appear to have had too many drinks already. No 'excuse me' or 'pardon me', but a polite and friendly attitude, and he'd said 'our Vonda', which seemed to indicate that he was a regular in the pub, not that it mattered.     To me, he said, "If you don't mind, of course," in the manner of an afterthought.     When I looked at Vonda and she smiled, which meant that she was expecting no difficulties, then I nodded and said, "No, I don't mind. It's entirely up to the ladies. This is Susanne and this is Stephanie. I'm Ed."     Sue had also noticed that his interest seemed to be in her. With a glance at me, she stood up and extended a hand. He grinningly walked with her to the dance floor.     "How about you?" I asked Steph. "Care to dance, milady?"     "Oh, I wouldn't mind," she said. "What does your gut tell you about Mr. Everett?"     I glanced at Everett. His attention seemed riveted on Sue's eyes as they danced.     "Nothing much," I said. "He seems okay. Why? Do you know something I don't?"     "No," she said with a smile. "I was just curious."     We danced through four songs, then we headed back to the table and I seated Steph, then joined her at the table and sipped my drink as I watched Sue and George.     The song was one that inspired close dancing, and Sue's chin almost rested on George's shoulder throughout most of the number. As they turned, I saw George's eyes flick around the room, then meet mine. A gap of sorts formed between him and Sue, and I realized that he thought I might disapprove.     Switching my gaze to Steph, I asked, "Do you have any reservations about my subbing Sue out to Volunteer Services?"     Shaking her head, Steph said, "No. Not now."     "But you did?"     "Yes, when I thought you might simply be trying to get rid of her. I was concerned about how she'd react to that level of rejection. I was also concerned that you might be reacting to feeling a degree of rejection by me -- knowingly or not."     Shaking my own head, I said, "Not rejection. I had a sense of abandonment at first, but that didn't last longer than our first few contacts after your emancipation." Placing a hand on hers, I said, "You didn't really leave, Steph, and for that I'm so glad I can't tell you in words."     "You told me, Ed," she said. "When Linda asked if you love me, you said 'Yes, I do'. I believe I feel the same way about you. Why is love so hard to quantify and define?"     "Hm. Good luck with that one, milady. I don't have an answer. It just seems to come into existence at some point, then it piles up until you become aware of it."     George and Sue headed back to our table, and on the way, George signaled a waitress, who nodded. That served to further bolster my impression that he was a regular, and again I wondered why it mattered to me, then I realized that some part of me was simply being cautious for Sue's sake.     That realization put my thoughts on yet another course as George seated Sue, then tapped the other empty chair and asked, "Would you mind if I join you?"     I glanced around the table and said, "No, have a seat," after both Steph and Sue gave no indication of objections.     As the waitress set his drink on the table, George gave her a five and told her to keep the change from a three dollar drink. His usual sort of tip, or was he trying to appear generous?     After some conversation in which George told us that he was a widower who had come to Spring Hill to visit some friends who'd retired here, he asked how we'd come to be here.     "I retired here," I said, handing him one of my business cards. "I'm an author and I have a couple of businesses on the internet. Stephanie was my assistant until just recently. Now Sue fills that role."     "Assistant?" asked George. He turned to Sue and asked, "What do you actually do? Research?"     "Among other things," she said. "Most of Ed's books contain references to historical events from within the last thirty years or so. He prefers that his memories of such events are accurate before he changes peoples' names to avoid lawsuits."     Turning a raised eyebrow toward me, George said, "I see."     I said, "Yeah, they're mostly just memoirs. Sometimes I'll turn a warehouse into a space station and call it science fiction. Other times I just record my past participations and change the names of everyone involved."     "Is that really enough? Don't some people recognize themselves in your writings?"     Nodding, I said, "Some have. None of them have sued me, though, and some of those involved have contributed to the books. My titles 'Anne' and 'Mindy', for example; both women wanted in on the writing and the editing, and I think their input did the sex scenes a lot of good. They didn't feel quite so raw after the ladies reworked them."     "I suppose they wouldn't," said George. "Women have a gentler touch with such things, as a rule. I'll be returning to Brighton tomorrow. I'll look up your site when I get home."     Vonda dropped by the table during her next break. George found her a chair and we chatted for a bit, then she said that she sometimes envied her customers in that they could dance while she was stuck at the piano.     Steph said, "No problem. Tell me which titles you'd like me to play and I'll lend you Ed."     "You play the piano?"     I laughingly said, "She wouldn't offer otherwise, ma'am. Name those tunes and I'll see if I can avoid your toes."     "Indeed," said George. "If he can't, I can. I never realized that the life of an entertainer was one of such drudgery."     With some reluctance, Vonda finally agreed to let Steph take her place at the piano and named three songs. Steph smiled and nodded, then rose from the table.     George again danced with Sue and I danced with Vonda. Three songs later, Sue took a seat at the piano and played another three songs as Vonda danced with George and Steph danced with me.     All in all, it was a good evening that ended only when we all met at the local Denny's for a very early 'breakfast' that concluded around three in the morning.     When I woke at seven-thirty, I swilled some coffee and fed myself lightly with a can of chicken soup, then called Sue to send a copy of herself with me to Bost Automotive.     She appeared as I was shaving. I looked her up and down, appreciating her from toes to nose in her shorts and tee-shirt as she leaned on the doorframe.     I asked, "Did you have a good time last night?"     Nodding, she said, "Yes, I did. Did you?"     "Yup. That was the first time I'd ever talked to Vonda. If she shows enough interest, I may ask her out sometime."     Sue's expression in the mirror was innocent as she asked, "Isn't Vonda just a little old for you, Ed? Let's see; Selena, Toni, Dana, Lissa... Your last four girlfriends have all been under thirty, haven't they?"     I sighed and said, "See? They didn't take out anything important yesterday. You're as snotty as ever, flitter girl."     Laughing softly, Sue disappeared. I heard noises in the kitchen, and when I finished in the bathroom, I found my mug full of coffee on the kitchen counter.     "Try it before you say anything," said Sue.     I did. It was about right and I nodded as I sipped again. We boarded the flitter and arrived at Bost just as one of the guys was priming the engine for a test run. We stayed aboard the flitter and hovered above the scene.     The engine balked a bit at first, then fired up and smoothed out after a minute. As the guy listened to it, I asked Sue if she could spot any problems with it. She shook her head.     "No. It's well within acceptable parameters."     "Thanks. Now let's see if we can get a discount for pulling the parts ourselves."     Chuck and the other guy were about to pressure-check the engine as the flitter lifted and Sue and I appeared in the parking lot between them and the car.     After their initial shock had abated, I told them that Sue had already checked the engine and it had passed. Chuck gave us an 'are you nuts?' look and said, "Uh, huh. Right," as he shoved a chain hoist toward the car.     "Sue," I said, "Pull that engine, please."     "No problem," she said with a grin.     Nuts and bolts began spinning off and out of the car and the radiator cap popped up to release pressure as the two main radiator hoses disconnected and floated to join the nuts and bolts. Chuck simply stared; the other guy crossed himself and muttered something.     The hood of the car lifted off and settled beside it, then some more bolts floated out of the engine compartment.     Sue chuckled at their reactions when the air-conditioning system separated itself and settled gently to the ground. She then pulled two more bolts and lifted the 350 engine out of the engine compartment.     The engine hovered above the asphalt for a moment before Sue turned to Chuck and said, "This really shouldn't sit on the ground. I'll put it in the hoist until we're ready for it."     He just stared at her and nodded rather dumbly for a moment, then turned to me.     "Ed, how did she do that?"     "It's a kind of Amaran magic, Chuck. There's some science involved, but it's still a kind of magic. If we do the engine swapout, will you cut us a deal? No muss, no fuss, and you get to work on something else this morning. How does three hundred sound to you?"     Chuck seemed spellbound for a moment as he stared at Sue and the engine in his hoist, then he turned to me.     "Uh... Well... How does five -- that's almost half price -- how does that sound to you, Ed?"     "Kinda high. You paid about a hundred for the car if you didn't actually charge someone to haul it off, Chuck. You've already sold the tranny out of it, so you've made about five hundred so far. The battery, tires, stereo, taillights, and everything else will bring in another few hundred. Three hundred for the engine wouldn't hurt you at all, plus you get to charge someone else for the other work you'll do this morning."     His gaze returned to Sue. She smiled and gave the engine a little pat, then vanished and reappeared next to me. When Chuck turned to me and saw Sue, his eyes bugged a bit.     "Uh, yeah. Yeah. Three hundred. Okay," he said softly, then his voice firmed up and he said, "But no warranty if we don't do the work."     "Good enough," I said.     Sue then lifted the hood off my Olds and began the same procedure to remove the engine. Both mechanics stood watching in almost total silence as my old engine and air-conditioning system floated to the other car and settled to the ground beside it.     The new engine lifted out of the hoist and into the engine compartment of my car and Sue installed it, then she started it and let it run for thirty seconds or so. She then installed the air-conditioning system. The entire procedure took all of perhaps ten minutes.     "This would be a good time to replace fluids," said Sue.     Chuck stared at her for a moment, seemed to shake himself a bit, and then told the other guy to move the car into the bay.     The other guy nodded, but didn't move. Chuck slapped his shoulder lightly and said, "Now," and the guy seemed to get himself organized. He nodded again and almost ran to the car, then started it and slid it into one of the repair bays as Chuck walked alongside it.     "Sue," I said, "That was one helluva show for these guys. Thank you, milady."     A few minutes later we stood waiting as Chuck made out a receipt for the engine. He cleared his throat and looked at Sue for a moment, seemed to think about something, then cleared his throat again as he handed me the receipt.     "Uh, ma'am," said Chuck, "This may sound kind of dumb, but, uh... well... Could I offer you a job?"     Sue gave him a regretful look and said, "I'm sorry, but I already have a job, Chuck."     He shrugged. "Well, I had to ask, y'know?" - End 3rd World Products, Inc., Book 4 - 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" "3rd World Products, Inc., Book 5" "3rd World Products, Inc., Book 6" "3rd World Products, Inc., Book 7" "3rd World Products, Inc., Book 8" "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: "ANSEN" "Crystal River Witch" * An index to articles and ebooks may be found on our website: http://www.AbintraPress.com Abintra Press! Other articles of interest may be found at: http://www.wiccaworks.com/