3rd World Products, Book 16 (12 page)

Looking at me, she said, “We need to talk,” then she opened the bedroom door and headed for the dining table.
 

Chapter Eight
 

Stopping at the refrigerator, she got herself some kind of energy drink in a flexible pack, poked the little straw into it, and took a seat at the table. She started to poke her laptop’s ‘off’ button, then canceled the motion and looked at me.
 

I’d followed her to the table. Sitting down, I asked, “What’s on your mind, ma’am?”
 

She sipped, then said, “Well, first off, I’d like for nothing unusual to happen for a while. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed by… well, everything, really.”
 

“Okay. No new tricks for a while. What else?”
 

Tapping a nail on the table, she seemed to gather her thoughts and said, “You just pitched right into this and pretty much took over immediately. I’ve been basically just following orders every step of the way since we went out to that dock. I’m not used to that, Ed.”
 

Sipping coffee, I pondered how to respond and settled for, “What you’re used to isn’t my problem, ma’am. My problem is getting you ready to help spring Marie on Monday. I’ll be civil and pleasant whenever possible, but I’ll push, pull, or give you a hard nudge if I have to in order to get you up to speed. We can discuss any hurt feelings when the mission’s over.”
 

She stated flatly, “The mission.”
 

“Got a better name for it?”
 

Tanya seemed to consider that, then shook her head. “No, I guess I haven’t. I feel as if I’m running to catch up all the time, damn it. Or standing there looking stupid every time you show me something new. I don’t like it, that’s all.”
 

I chuckled, “Stupid? Hardly. I’ve had to train people who had shit for brains, Tanya. You definitely aren’t one of them. I’m having to give you the quick course and you’ve been surprised a few times. No biggie; I expected it. You’ve adapted quickly to everything. A lot of people couldn’t do that.”
 

Reaching to pat her hand, I said, “Just hang in there for a few more tricks. By tomorrow afternoon it’ll all seem normal enough and I’ll be able to trust you in action.”
 

That made her sit up straight. Her gaze narrowed. “
Trust
me? What the hell makes you think you can’t trust me?”
 

Pretending to backpedal, I raised a hand and said, “To do what needs done. To know
how
to do it. We can’t expect Marie to be able to ride a scooter or stand on a board, so she’ll probably have to sit or lie down.” Raising a finger, I said, “Which reminds me; you need to know something.”
 

Calling up my board, I stood on it, buttoned my open right shirt pocket, and had the board flip upside down. Hanging in front of Tanya, her openmouthed shock almost made me laugh, but I contained it.
 

“You can’t fall off a board, ma’am. Once you’re on one, you can step off or jump off, but you can’t just fall off. It takes a conscious effort.”
 

“But… how…?” Her expression became one of enlightenment and she said, “Another field thing, right?”
 

“Yup. Sticks like glue. Better, even.”
 

Flipping the board upright, I stepped off and let it vanish, then sat down. Sipping coffee, I said, “You can’t hit anything, either. It won’t let you. I’ll show you later outside.”
 

Eyeing me as she sipped her drink, Tanya asked, “Didn’t we agree on ‘
no new tricks for a while
‘?”
 

With a shrug, I said, “Whiles can be long or short, milady. Besides, that wasn’t a new trick. ‘
Can’t fall off
‘ is a standard feature. So is ‘
can’t hit stuff
‘. Now I have a question; who needs to know if you’re going to be gone for a day or two?”
 

Tanya held up a hand. “Wait. How can we do anything for mom in one or two days? How far away is Guyana?”
 

Consulting my core, I replied, “Georgetown is 2205 miles from Ocala. But that trip might not be necessary. The law says ‘not within US territorial boundaries’, which extend two hundred miles from shore where they don’t meet someone else’s boundaries.”
 

“Didn’t you use a flitter to take Joyce out of the country?”
 

“Yes, but that trip was circumstantial and part of the premise was a visit to a tourist attraction. I doubt we’d be able to sell anybody the idea that Marie wanted to collect meteorites or visit Kaieteur Falls.”
 

Sipping coffee, I said, “I’m trying to minimize risk, Tanya. Risk to Marie, you, me, and anyone else — human or AI — who might have to look the other way. Rounds check on ambulatory patients every three hours. They check on coherent bedridden patients every two hours. Marie can manage a bedpan and she can use the call button, so she’s on the two-hour rounds chart.”
 

Tanya stopped sipping her drink and asked, “You think we’re going to — somehow — get her out of there, take her two hundred miles offshore, and sneak her back into her bed inside two hours?”
 

“That’s the current plan, ma’am.”
 

In a mocking tone, she said, “Funny, you didn’t really seem crazy at all until just now.”
 

“Reserve your judgment for now, ma’am. You haven’t seen everything yet. Do you get airsick?”
 

Somewhat defensively, she replied, “I haven’t flown much, but I haven’t gotten sick, either.”
 

“Big planes or small planes?”
 

“Big ones, when I visited family in Denver.”
 

Grinning, I said, “Oh, well. I guess we’ll find out soon.”
 

Tanya’s gaze narrowed. She insisted, “I
won’t
get airsick.”
 

With a little salute, I chuckled, “Oh, yes, milady. As you say, milady. How well do you handle rollercoasters?”
 

She replied archly, “I handle them very well.”
 

“Well, then. Maybe things won’t be all that bad. I do, however, think we should get your first flight lessons out of the way before we go to dinner. Back to who’d have to know if you’re gone a couple of days.”
 

Sipping her packet drink, Tanya said, “Well, my office, of course. And Jessica. She’s a friend and she’d worry. And Roy Timson. He’s the apartment manager.”
 

She fell silent and I prompted, “Nobody else?”
 

Shaking her head, Tanya said, “Not really. Not for just a couple of days, I think.”
 

“Does Jessica know you’ve been researching me?”
 

“No.”
 

“If she’s such a good friend, why not?”
 

“This was a private thing. Too private even for her. She knows about mom, though. She’s gone there with me.”
 

“Uh, huh. How long have you known her?”
 

“About four years, I think. Yes. Almost exactly four.”
 

“What would she do if she couldn’t reach you by phone?”
 

“She might come by. She only lives a few blocks away.”
 

I sipped coffee and asked, “And if you weren’t home?”
 

“I don’t know. Probably keep trying to reach me.”
 

“What about the manager? Why him?”
 

“I always let him know when I’ll be gone a while. He might have to let the fire department in or something.”
 

“Not this time.”
 

Tanya shook her head again. “No. He’d think something was wrong about it. I’ll just tell him I’m going somewhere for a couple of days. Jessica, too.”
 

“Where? And make it somewhere she wouldn’t call.”
 

Rolling her eyes, Tanya asked, “Where the hell would that be? Cell phones are everywhere.”
 

“Then make it some kind of private time. No calls. A boyfriend would be convenient for that. We could even tell him what we’re up to if he could keep his mouth shut.”
 

Yet again Tanya shook her head. “I had one until two months ago, but he became a problem.”
 

“Well damn. You really aren’t helping, ma’am.”
 

She chuckled, “Sorry. On the other hand, we won’t need to tell him anything, will we?”
 

I sighingly acceded, “Yeah, there is that.”
 

Tanya chuckled again and said, “You could play the boyfriend. Jessica would buy it. Martin was fifty-one.”
 

Giving her a deliberately skeptical look, I asked, “Excuse me, ma’am, but how old would I have to be to have worked with your mom?”
 

She sipped the last of her juice, pulled the straw out, and squashed the packet, then stood up. Walking to the pop-top trash can by the fridge, she dropped the packet in and turned to face me in a speculative manner.
 

“I know how old you are. You’re a little over sixty. But you don’t look it and you damned sure don’t act it. Most of the time, anyway.”
 

“Well, gee, thanks, ma’am. Now I can hold my head high when I go back to the old codgers home.”
 

Tanya snickered and said, “I could call Jessica over to give you a second opinion. Where should I tell her we’re going?”
 

Shrugging, I asked, “Where would you want to go for two romantic days with a brand-new boyfriend?”
 

She chuckled, “Probably to his place. That way I’d find out what to expect if we moved in together. Is he a slob or a neat freak? Something in between?”
 

I chuckled, “Something in between. I vacuum occasionally. That’s about it. There’s a lot of stuff I never use, so it never moves. I don’t bother to cook and I pretty much live in one room of a three bedroom house. When I’m home, that is.”
 

“That’s about what I expected. Should I call her?”
 

Regarding her thoughtfully, I asked, “Would it make you feel better, Tanya?”
 

Regarding me just as thoughtfully, she nodded. “Yes.”
 

“Then do it. Tell her we’re going on a grand escape to total privacy and not to call unless it’s an emergency. In fact, invite her to dinner with us tonight. That way she won’t tie up daylight you need for training.”
 

“Training?”
 

“Flight training. Other training.”
 

“What kind of other training?”
 

“You’ll see. Call Jessica and let’s saddle up.”
 

She gave me a sort of ‘you’re doing it again’ look and took her phone out of her purse. On general principles, I checked her phone records. Yup. She and Jessica called each other one or two times a day. I wondered if there might be a relationship of some sort beyond friendship, then canceled that thought. I didn’t really need to know and I really didn’t care.
 

I couldn’t think of any way to verify that Jessica wasn’t aware Tanya had been researching me. Did that matter? No, not really. Enough other people watched me in one fashion or another. They’d know about Tanya by now. But a level of secrecy tended to cause subtle bonds to form, and I wanted Tanya to have just such a bond if I had to tell her to do something without having time to explain it.
 

So she’d call her friend and spin her tale of surreptitious romance with an older man. Going to a public place meant not having to make blatant gestures to convince our audience we were hot for each other.
 

Standing up as Tanya greeted Jessica, I said, “No Mexican food and no sushi, please,” and headed for the bathroom. Tanya gave me a glance, then nodded.
 

As I took a leak and washed up, it occurred to me to send a probe to find out who — other than her nurses and doctors — might be keeping an eye on Marie. Contact and visitation records had been sparse until Connie and Will had arrived, but a new name appeared after their first visit.
 

A guy named Richard Comber had dropped by, talked to her doctor, and hadn’t returned. He’d said he was with the company paying Marie’s bills, but that company employed no Richard Comber.
 

The card he’d tendered upon arrival had a shiny, high-durability front. On it my probe found fingerprints that tracked back to one Phillip Nagel of the NIA. In Nagel’s computer I found what appeared to be a reasonably accurate history of Marie’s employment with three government agencies. In his work folder I found more recent records of his efforts to investigate her current activities. There wasn’t much in that file; apparently Marie had really retired completely.
 

Then I found notes about Tanya’s overnight visit to Spring Hill. They even knew about the camera she’d placed, which meant the info hadn’t come from a simple GPS tracker. Even as I read the file, it continued growing with notes that her residence bugs had stopped transmitting and her GPS tracker was in west Gainesville. For some reason they hadn’t tapped Tanya’s cell phone. I wondered why.
 

Stepping out of the bathroom, I found Tanya still on the phone, so I went to the back porch and stretched in the sunshine as I sent probes around the apartment. They found some people in cars, but most were coming or going.
 

One guy in a Chevy sipped from a travel mug and shifted himself in his seat. A probe checked his ID and showed me an NIA card in his wallet. His name was Avery Treat and he had a tendency to talk to himself.
 

“This is bullshit,” he said, “First I hurry over here, then I bake in the damned sun. There oughta be some shade and I ought to have a damned desk by now.”