3rd World Products, Inc.
Book 10
Copyright©2007 by Ed Howdershelt
ISBN 1-932693-31-9
978-1-9326-9331-7
Caution: Some Erotic Content
Note: I'm not going to re-introduce everybody.
Read my other 3WP-Books before starting Book 10.
Chapter One
My implant pinged with Linda's chimes at eight on Sunday morning. I called up a screen and Linda's face appeared with an intense expression I hadn't seen since Dragonfly team six had disappeared in East Germany in the seventies.
I said, "You're scaring me, ma'am. What's up?"
Without preamble, she replied, "James Chen is aboard Shining Star with three other astronauts. Something punched through the ship, damaged several systems, and now they have less than six hours of oxygen left. That's at the absolute outside, Ed. They'd be using the last of what's in their suit tanks by then. And neither of the Amaran transport ships can get here in less than ten hours."
Figures. Things rarely go wrong at convenient times. Shining Star was a European Space Agency mission to the international space station with... what? Parts, I think. Who the hell's James Chen and why would one of 3rd World's people be aboard something as primitive as a chemical-fueled space gadget? Oh, well. Doesn't matter. Linda's upset and she called me about it.
"So what's the plan, Fearless Leader, ma'am?"
She sat straight, took a breath, and sighed, "We don't have one. Yet. We need someone who is extremely capable with fields and who can... think abstractly... under pressure."
"You're just being kind, milady. Sounds like me, though. What's the job? Try to deliver some oxygen somehow?"
"Yes, but maybe I should explain a little more first. NASA has an unmanned rocket that was supposed to rendezvous with Shining Star yesterday, but there were storms over the Cape. A second attempt to launch during an alternate window was scrubbed two hours ago, and now they don't think any of the astronauts would be capable of making an EVA by the time the rocket could get there. Someone would have to transfer the tanks to their airlock."
"Okay. Marching orders?"
Somewhat more animatedly, she said, "Go to Canaveral. Get with NASA's Lee Hines and see if you and your special friends can devise some way to get more oxygen up to Shining Star in time."
I didn't say anything about how flitters and orbiting stuff can't match up due to speeds; Linda knew all those logistics difficulties as well as anyone. But here she was, telling me to try to find a way, and she was as tense as I'd ever seen her, so I'd damned well give it a shot.
With a small salute, I replied, "Yes'm. By your command, milady. Have Hines or somebody who can take me right to him meet me at the VAB entrance in ten minutes."
"Okay. Ed, do you know James Chen from your visits here?"
"Nope. Doesn't matter, Fearless Leader. I know you and you seem to think he's worth some effort. Good 'nuff for me."
She smiled and said, "Okay. Thanks," as she tapped her 'off' icon. I looked up info on the international space station to get a feel for the turf and considered the puzzle of how to connect flitters and orbiting spacecraft as I tossed two cans of soup in my backpack and pinged Tiger's collar.
He answered, "Hello, Ed!"
"Hi, Tiger. Linda needs me and I have to go somewhere right now. Cindy will tell you about it, okay?"
"Can I come with you?"
"Remember the Space Center? With the big rockets? You were so bored you fell asleep in a corner. It's that place."
"Okay. I'll stay here and watch the house."
"Good deal, Tiger. Thanks."
Dropping the link, I called my board up as I called the flitter down and slid aboard the flitter at ten thousand feet about halfway to Brooksville.
Cynthia appeared in the seat on my left and I said, "Hi, there, Flitter Goddess. Completely aside from the fact that you could simply pop yourself into being on Shining Star and whomp up a batch of oxygen for those guys, do you know of any health reasons why I shouldn't ride one of NASA's rockets into space?"
With a raised eyebrow, she replied, "Your physical health is adequate for the purpose. If you're willing to go, I suppose your mental health would be a moot issue."
"Ha. Maybe so. Could be a real no-frills trip, though. I'd displace somebody's satellite on something like a Delta rocket that can catch up with Shining Star. As I understand things, my board can't operate in open space because there's nothing close enough to provide a base for pushing or pulling."
Giving me an arched eyebrow, she replied, "Yes, that's the simplest possible explanation."
I shrugged. "Simple works well enough for now. What if there were something big enough and near enough to use as a base? Their ship is almost the size of our space shuttle."
Her instant reply was, "You'd affect its orbit, Ed."
I shot back, "Not much, and they could correct things. The transport ship would pick me up later."
Obviously taking a dim view of my intentions, she said flatly, "Your p-field won't stop high-velocity debris."
"But you can, ma'am. You can zap it before it gets me or set up a field or something. I have truly vast faith in you, y'know."
Still seeming unenthusiastic as hell, she replied, "I'd be using broadcast power. Something I couldn't stop could very easily find us in low Earth orbit."
"Then it would be up to you to finish the mission; get the oxygen tanks to Shining Star. All that."
Her gaze narrowed. "I'd much rather go alone, Ed. I'm a little more durable than you."
Giving her a flat gaze, I said, "Yes'm, but that'll happen only if there's no possible way to get me up there too."
Looking and sounding moderately amazed, Cindy asked, "So you actually want to do this?"
Grinning at her, I replied, "Oh, hell, yes. Did you think my bio readings meant anything else?"
"Linda would undoubtedly object."
"Maybe not. Doesn't matter. I'm going if I can."
Sitting back, she said, "I see."
"Great. Now let's go see about a ride upstairs. Got a number for Lee Hines? He's some kind of honcho at the Cape."
Giving me a roll of her eyes, Cindy sighingly snapped her fingers. A blank field screen appeared and after a few moments, a harried-sounding man answered with, "Yes? Is this Dave? Your number isn't showing on my cell."
I said, "Nope, not Dave. I'm Ed. Linda Baines sent me."
"Whaaa...?! How did you get this number?"
"Just did. I'll be there in a few minutes."
Hines said, "I'll have someone meet you. Which gate?"
"No gate. No time for formalities. Meet me at the VAB."
"Uh... okay, then I'll meet you at the front doors."
"Okay. See you in a few."
Dropping the connection, I sat back and sipped coffee as I watched our descent to the Cape complex.
Looking at Cindy, I said, "As much as I'll miss your gorgeous presence, it might be better if you vanish for now. I'll have enough to explain and I can introduce you later."
Giving me an arching eyebrow, Cindy disappeared.
Of course Hines had told the security people there'd be a visitor. Before the flitter had even stopped moving, I was surrounded by people with guns who were busily yapping on radios and ordering each other around.
A tall guy with a burr haircut came out of the VAB with two other guys who also yapped on radios. The crowd parted for them and guns were pointed at the sky instead of me as the two men stopped at the flitter's field 'hull'.
'Hines', one guy's badge read. I dropped the flitter's hull field, hung my mug on my pants pocket, and stepped down to meet him. His sharp gaze took in my green Army shirt, jeans, and Adidas sneakers, then locked on my coffee mug.
When he made no attempt to introduce himself and simply stood staring critically at me for a time, I asked, "Yes?"
His gaze flicked around the flitter before he rather stiffly said, "Well, uh... To put it as politely as possible, you aren't quite what I expected. I'm not sure we can..."
I felt like saying, "By God, you're exactly what I expected," but I didn't. Keying my five suit on, I flicked open my belt knife and slashed at my left hand as Hines recoiled in alarm and several guns again aimed at me.
Holding up my unblemished hand, I said, "I'm already wearing my space suit. It's a protective field. Come on, Hines; snap out of it, break up this goddamned clambake, and let's talk about the problem instead of my wardrobe."
With a narrow look, he said, "I'd prefer you didn't swear in my presence."
"Then it's too damned bad this visit isn't about catering to your preferences. Look, if you could use one of your own people, I wouldn't be here. I don't know why you can't use one of your own people, but apparently my boss does, 'cuz she asked me to come talk to you."
Another guy bulled his way toward us and stopped cold when he saw me. His badge said he was Michael Gear.
Turning to Hines, Gear asked in a piercing tone, "He's the guy she sent?! He's in his fifties! Is this for real?!"
'Enough,' I thought, then I said the word aloud as I called up my board, lifted a few feet, rode it quickly in a tight, twisting barrel roll in front of the VAB, and returned to land and hop off it.
Now a couple of the pistols in the group were aimed right at me rather intently. I created a pulsing two-foot neon-red light ball between the flitter and myself and when all eyeballs had locked onto it, I swept a light stun tendril through the guards surrounding us.
Seven men and two women suddenly collapsed to the pavement. Hines and Gear stood staring at them in shock as I said, "If you two don't get your heads out of your asses, you'll go down next and I'll go way the hell over your heads about this. No more bullshit and no more guns pointed at me."
Gear looked up at me and gestured around as he asked, "Uh... Will these people be okay?"
I snapped, "They're just stunned."
"Uh... We... Uh... Well, when Ms. Baines said she was sending someone, we... Uh... We thought she'd send..." He paused, then peered at me as he asked, "Sir, do you actually know anything about the Shining Star mission? Or space travel, for that matter?"
Meeting his gaze, I replied, "They were supposed to deliver stuff to the international space station, which is a bit more than 200 miles up, going about 17,000 miles per hour, and has an inclination of about 51 degrees. I figure Shining Star is likely at about the same altitude at the moment, but the fact is, Mr. Gear, I don't have to know a damned thing about any of that. All I have to do is ride up there, deliver some oxygen tanks, and wait a couple of hours to be picked up."
Hines began to say something that looked as if it might be caustic. Raising a hand to stop him, I looked at Hines and said, "Whatever you decide; just tell me when it's time to leave."
As I stepped back aboard the flitter, I snagged my backpack off the deck and took out a can of soup, used a thin grey field to cut the lid out, pinched the top of the can to form a spout, and propped my feet on the console.
Sipping soup and coffee, I watched Hines and Gear wake up the guards and hold a hurried conference. Some of the guards looked ready and very willing to shoot me. Gear almost frantically shooed them away.
Through my implant, Cindy chuckled, "While I've not lost sight of the fact there's an emergency at hand, I've found a certain amount of humor in proceedings so far, Ed."
"That's nice, ma'am. I live only to entertain you, y'know."
That got me an actual laugh. "Of course you do."
"Just out of curiosity, why couldn't they have used one of their own people?"
"Weight restrictions. The man, his suit and its life support equipment, and sixteen oxygen tanks would require launch parameters that wouldn't get him there in time."
"So Linda probably thought we'd send a weightless AI up there to transfer the tanks? Possibly even you?"
"That would seem likely, wouldn't it?"
Calling up a field screen, I pinged Linda. She answered with her usual, "Yes, Ed?" as her face filled the screen.
"Hi, Fearless Leader. I've met Lee Hines and a guy named Gear. They seem reluctant to proceed."
Her gaze narrowed. "Why?"
"They were expecting someone younger and prettier than me to make the trip upstairs, I guess."
She said nothing for a moment, then said, "So was I, really. If I object, what then?"
Matching her gaze, I said flatly, "I'd rather you wouldn't. Not needing a bunch of space gear cuts away most of the weight problem. If there's any possible way, I'm going."
Sitting back in her chair, she seemed to digest that for a time, then asked, "You demonstrated some of your talents?"
"Yup, and even after all that, they lack confidence. My feelings are hurt, ma'am. That's the real reason I called you."
Linda snickered, "Yeah, sure. Stand by, Ed. I want their input on this before I threaten anyone."
She poked her 'off' icon and I soon saw Hines and Gear answer their cell phones. After a few minutes of conversation, they both looked thoroughly shocked and actually paled a bit due to whatever Linda had said.
"Wow," I muttered, "I'll bet if anyone says the name 'Linda Baines' around these guys from now on, they'll drop a load in their pants. Wonder what the hell she said?"
Cindy's soft chuckle filled my implant and became a full-fledged laugh as I finished my soup and poured a little coffee in the can to wash the last few noodles loose.
After swilling them, I set the can by my seat and waited as Hines and Gear again held a quick conference. Gear hurried to shoo the remaining guards away and almost ran back to the flitter as Hines squared his shoulders back, took a breath, and marched toward the flitter.
I picked up the soup can, stepped off the flitter, walked a few paces to meet him, and asked, "Well?"
Hines looked as if he was having trouble making the words as he said, "We're going to send you up."
Saying, "Great! Where's my ride?" I tossed my can at the flitter and it flashed to plasma with a loud 'bang'. Hines reacted as if a grenade had gone off and stood staring rather starkly at the flitter, blinking as if that would get rid of the afterimages from the flash.
Recovering a bit, Hines said, "Perhaps it's time for some formal introductions, sir."
"Okay. I'm Ed. Cynthia, milady, would you join us?"
She popped into being on my left and Hines's jaw dropped as his eyes grew huge. With much the same reaction, Gear also let out a kind of hissing noise, heard himself making the sound, and quickly stopped it.
"This is Cynthia," I said, "She's going with me."
Hines tore his eyes away from Cindy to look at me and replied, "Two passengers...? But..."
I interrupted with, "She's an AI. Her total mass and weight is just about zero. No extra fuel. Good enough?"
Again looking at Cindy, he muttered, "Oh, hell, no! Not nearly good enough!" then he sighed, "But I'll save my questions for later. Both of you come with me, please. I'm going to show you your... 'ride'." He put distasteful emphasis on the last word and started toward an official NASA sedan.
"Better idea," I said, and thumbed at the flitter.
We got aboard and less than ten seconds later I got my first glimpse of the vehicle that would carry us into space; a huge Delta rocket stood on the pad.
They were still working on it; a gantry-mounted crane was in the process of slowly moving something away from the rocket and technicians were doing things inside its nose.
Remembering what I'd seen of rockets that had blown up on the pad or soon after, I considered that -- if anything went wrong -- these could be my last hours on Earth.
Hines gave me a sharp look as he unclenched his fingers from his seat and said, "Uh... Could you make this quick? We'll need to run a few medical tests."
Holding up a hand, I replied, "No. Get any info you need from my ladyfriend here."
"We'd prefer that our own doctors gather your info."
Shaking my head, I said, "They can gather it from her. Call Linda if you have to get some kind of clearance on it."
"May I ask why you object to testing?"
"Nope. It's classified."
Hines chuckled, "I think you'll find our security clearances are quite high enough."
Shaking my head, I replied, "Government security is fine for most government stuff, but it's been known to leak rather catastrophically fairly often. No offense."
Subsiding into his seat, Hines seemed to be trying to get some kind of an angle on things. Gear looked at the rocket almost reverently and began to rattle off facts about overall measurements and power ratios and such.
I let him go on until Hines gave me a desultory glance and muttered tersely, "You're wasting your breath. He doesn't care about any of that."
Nodding, I agreed, "He's right, but thanks anyway. Now I'd like to have the flitter to myself for a while. Flitter, take us back to the VAB, please."
Hines and Gear went back into the VAB and I called up the specs for the Delta rocket. The computer ran several possible flights and I discovered -- as I'd expected, really -- that the weight of a man and the usual space gear would, indeed, have been enough to cause serious problems matching orbits.
My computer showed me the numbers for a tanks-only shot and the numbers showed the real reason I'd been called into this; the job called for someone who could maneuver quickly between the capsule and Shining Star. Maybe Linda really had expected me to arrange something with the AI's, but we knew each other pretty well and she could just as easily have asked the AI's without consulting me. That meant she had an ulterior motive in bringing me into the situation, but I truly didn't care what it might be.
For the next hour I called various people for brief chats as if I'd simply decided to pick up the phone and say hi. Sharon and my sisters weren't fooled during our conference call. Sharon eventually asked what was wrong.
"Nothing's wrong," I said, "I'm about to take a longish trip and I just wanted to make contact before I go. It's a business matter, so I can't talk about it."
My New Mexico sister said in a flat tone, "You sound as if you think you might not come back."
"Could be. I was overseas for over a decade once upon a time. If I did that again at my age, I might not get back during this lifetime."
She let me hear her skeptical snort, of course.
"Crap," said my Texas sister, "You're up to something. I know you, Ed. You're about to do something risky as hell or you wouldn't have called like this. Whatever it is, you just be real damned careful, okay?"
"You got it. 'Real damned careful'. Yes'm, I'll try to remember to scribble that on my hand so I can't forget, okay?"
"Yeah, you do that. In red, with a big Magic Marker."
They each pushed a little, but I didn't go into detail and I had other calls to make. Alissa wasn't home. I left a 'Hi, there, just checking in' type of message on her machine and called Angela. She took a break from training flitter pilots to chat with me and said she'd get with Linda to ask questions, then also wished me luck.
Hines came out of the VAB and quick-stepped toward the flitter. As he hopped aboard, he said, "We have a problem. You weigh one-ninety-one, which means we'd have to leave three oxygen bottles behind to compensate. That cuts our margins of error to an unacceptable level."
I didn't tell him that about twelve pounds of my weight was a briefcase he couldn't see. Three oxy bottles? Damn. Were they just trying to cut me out of the trip?
"Cindy," I said, "Could the flitter use fields to support the payload for the first few minutes during liftoff?"
Looking thoughtful for all of a split second, she replied, "Yes. Two minutes, forty-four seconds."
"Thanks, milady." Looking at Hines, I asked, "Would that cover the weight problem?"
He turned from Cindy to meet my gaze and almost whispered, "Oh, hell yes! Can it really do that?"
"Sure. The problem is matching orbital speeds. Watch."
I asked the flitter to lift a car parked to one side of the doorway and move it to the next parking space. The flitter sent a fat grey tendril around the car, picked it up, and placed the vehicle in the precise center of the next space.
"Oh, dear God..!" breathed Hines. He raised his hands in a 'stay put' gesture as he almost yelled, "We need new numbers! Wait right here!" then he ran back into the VAB.
I looked at Cynthia and said, "Flitters have done tricks for the evening news since 2000. How the hell can seeing one lift a car surprise a guy from NASA?"
She shook her head. "Maybe he doesn't watch news that doesn't involve space."
"Hm. Yeah, maybe. How long will it take that thing to match up with Shining Star? An hour and a half or so?"
"An hour and forty-seven minutes."
"Damn. That plus waiting for the transport to find me. It's gonna seem like a week up there."
Grinning, Cindy suggested, "It isn't too late to back out. You've already seen space many times, Ed."
"This is different and Linda had reasons for involving me -- likely political reasons. After something like this, I doubt she'll hear another squeak out of the bureaucracy's tightwads."
Cindy laughingly said, "What absolute drivel! You aren't doing this for Linda. You're doing it for you."
"Well," I admitted, "Maybe a little bit, yeah."
She laughed again and disappeared, then laughed yet again through my implant before her presence vanished. Some moments later, Hines came trotting out of the VAB and started chattering about burn rates and weight differences. I let him go on until he realized I wasn't paying much attention.
When he stopped talking, I asked, "How soon 'til liftoff?"
He looked at his watch and replied, "An hour and thirty-four minutes. Having the flitter handle lifting the payload cuts fuel consumption by... Ah, never mind. It just means we'll get you up there at a useful speed."
Nodding, I replied, "Great. Back in a few," keyed up my board, and soared away toward Melbourne. Calling up a screen to locate a sporting goods store on a main highway, I chose one on State Road 520 and found the place easily.
The camping display had three sizes of hydration bladders. I picked two of the mediums, paid for them, and headed back to Canaveral to find Hines in a frantic-looking discussion with Gear not far from the flitter.
Landing near them, I took the bladders out of the store bag, picked up my backpack, and said, "Hi, guys. Where can I rinse these out?"
Hines bellowed, "Where the hell did you go?!"
Handing him the empty store bag, I replied, "That should be pretty obvious, even to a rocket scientist. Take it easy and take me to a faucet, okay?"
For some reason, Gear chuckled. When we looked at him, he asked, "Would you rather fill them with bottled water?"
"Doesn't matter to me. Tap's fine."
With a grin and a 'come along' gesture, he headed for the VAB entrance. I followed him and after a moment, Hines followed us inside. Gear led me to a kitchenette alcove in a break room, where I rinsed each bladder and filled one with water, then reached for one of the coffee pots on the brewing machine.
As Gear quickly read aloud the cautions concerning hot liquids on the second bladder's label, I added about half a capful of my instant coffee to the pot and stirred it. After sending a cooling field into the coffee to make it drinkable and tasting the results, I filled the bladder as Gear held it open.
Looking mystified, he blurted, "Hey! It's not hot!"
Without answering that, I switched off the hot plate, rinsed the pot, and set it back on the coffee machine.
Hines had taken a chair at the little nearby table. He said, "You didn't have to buy those, you know. We have Air Force and Navy survival gear for all occasions."
Glancing at him, I replied, "Thanks anyway, but I won't have to give these back later. How much time left?"
He checked his watch. "Fifty-eight minutes to go."
"Time to take a leak and wash up, then."
"Speaking of which," said Gear, "Cynthia said a catheter won't be necessary."
Shrugging, I said, "She's right," and left my gear on the table to head for the restrooms. When I returned to the kitchenette, I slipped on the bladders with the water in back and the coffee in front, adjusted straps, and asked, "Will the oxygen tanks be bundled or loose?"
"They're packaged in groups of four. Cynthia said you'd have no problems moving that size load."
Shifting the pack a bit, I said, "Good 'nuff. Are we ready?"
"I wouldn't think so. Cynthia's not here."
Heading for the VAB entrance, I replied, "No sweat. She'll pop in sometime before I get to Shining Star."
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