Eye Candy (13 page)

“Very good, sir.”

Danny rang off.

Now what was he going to do? Perhaps he could take Howard flying, land and drop him off, and then toss Harley in the back seat and take her out to Catalina Island, thereby keeping his word to each of them.

As for Candy . . . perhaps she would wait up for him. After all, he had something which belonged to her.

His mind was suddenly reeling with the sudden and simultaneous events added to his social calendar (which was typically quiet; very quiet).

If he knew Candy at all, and he liked to think he did, or was at least beginning to, she would understand. Plus, they had the entire week upcoming during which they could spend time together. And Tim’s annual 4
th
of July beach-house bash was coming up. He was already looking forward to it. Particularly if he had the distinct honor and pleasure of escorting Candy to the party.

As for the explosive residue of the tri-nitro-tolu-whatever it was called, that was a bigger problem.

Chapter 11

Chocolate Suicide and Rainbow Dust

Susannah looked up from her desk when the door opened. It was Doctor Calvin, returning from lunch.
Candy
, Susannah reminded herself,
she prefers that I call her Candy
. It had been twenty-four hours since the shuttle crash. Candy seemed her normal self. “Nice lunch?”

Candy smiled. She suspected that by now Danny had discovered the gift she’d placed on his windshield. “Very nice lunch. Only . . . you ever have one of those days when you feel like someone is following you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I went to Pandora’s for lunch and there was a guy there who came in and ate after I sat down. Then I saw him again a little while later at the Yog-yog place. Which reminds me . .
.” Candy set a white paper bag on Susannah’s desk. “. . . I brought you a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Susannah smiled and opened the bag. Inside was a tall cup.

“It’s a low-fat, sugar-free Chocolate Suicide parfait made with whey protein. And I sprinkled some chopped almonds on top, to give it some texture.”

A deep, electronic voice rang out, “Doctor Calvin?”

Candy turned to Barney, who still sat in the reception area, facing the windows.

“Yes, Barney? Is there–”

Candy stopped.

In his big black robotic hand, Barney held a gun. A large one.

“Barney, I was told you had been relieved of your sidearm.”

“That’s correct, ma’am.”

“Where did you get that?”

“It’s a back-up weapon, doctor. Any good cop carries a back-up piece. I keep it in a secret compartment on my lower extremity.”

“Is it loaded?”

“Yes, doctor.”

“I see.”

Susannah was on her feet, the phone in one hand. “Doctor Candy, should I call–”

“No. I’ll handle this.”

Susannah replaced the phone.

Candy approached the robot. “Barney. Can you hear me?” She used her most commanding intonation, stating the name of the robot, followed by a brief and succinctly stated request.

“Yes, doctor.”

“Barney. I am a human being. I order you to place that weapon on the table in front of you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, doctor, I understand.”

Barney did not comply. Did not move. He still held the gun in his right hand, too far away for Candy to be able to reach out and grab it. Assuming she could possibly pry the weapon out of Barney’s mechanical hand, a hand which was strong enough to bend metal or lift a motor vehicle.

“Robot Barney. That was an order.”

“Doctor Calvin, have you ever swum in the ocean?”

Oh shit.
Barney was disassociating. In humans, it was a sign of psychosis. In robots, it was virtually unknown. “I gave you an order, robot.”

“Please, doctor. I require an answer.”

“If I answer, will you put down that gun?”

After a few seconds, Barney replied. “Yes, doctor.”

Candy ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath and let it out. “Have I ever been swimming in the ocean? Yes. Once. When I was a little girl.”

“What was it like?” Barney’s voice was softer now.

“It was cold. And choppy. The waves were far too big for me, and they kept knocking me down. I had salt water in my mouth and I couldn’t stop shivering. Why?”

“I would’ve liked to go swimming. Just once.”

“Barney. I have answered your question. Put down the gun. Now.”

Barney remained still. Candy realized then that the robot had been manipulating her, coercing her to answer the question.

“I must serve the public trust,” Barney stated. “A scared cop . . . is a dangerous cop. Goodbye, doctor. I shall miss you.”

In one swift movement, Barney raised the gun and pointed it under his chin and pulled the trigger.

There was a flash of white light and a loud
BANG!
Barney’s arm fell to his side and his body sagged in the chair. His red eyes flashed once and went dark.

Sparkles of rainbow-colored light filled the air. Candy looked up. In the air all around her floated a cloud of rainbow dust. The bullet from Barney’s gun had gone through his cranium and lodged in the ceiling. Barney’s positronic pathways had been completely destroyed. His very thoughts seemed to hang in the air.

Candy stood immobilized as rainbow dust settled onto her blond hair and the shoulders of her coat. Rainbow dust settled into the palms of her hands. She rubbed her hands together and the dust smeared, staining her skin green and pink and purple and blue, like the inside of an abalone shell she’d seen once when she was a little girl, the same day she’d gone swimming into that cold and salty ocean.

Candy sat in the chair beside Barney’s inert form. She reached down, took hold of his hand, and held it between her own.

Chapter 12

Egg Rolls and A-Holes

Danny arrived at the Santa Monica subway terminal and parked in the passenger loading zone. A few minutes later, Howard appeared on the escalator. He climbed into the convertible and Danny headed for the airport.

“It’s a nice day to fly,” said Danny.

“Every day is a nice day to fly.”

Danny drove past the airport terminal building and through the aircraft-owners’ security gate, then to the rows of hangars.

He pressed the white button on the wireless opener hooked to his car’s sun visor. The massive door of hangar nine began to fold into sections as it lifted upward.

Danny checked the position of the sun, then checked the time on his watch. Thirty minutes to pre-flight, an hour of flight time, and then he’d be back on the ground in time to meet Harley for her turn in the airplane. Harley had literally screamed when he’d called and suggested they go up. He wasn’t yet certain where things were going with Candy, but Rory’s endorsement of Harley warranted that he at least honor his agreement to take her flying.

Danny drove into the hangar and parked near the Viper Jet. He and Howard got out and stood before the aircraft.

“What do you think, Howard?”

Howard surveyed the hangar, his head sweeping in a grand arc, and came to rest pointed in the direction of the airplane parked in the center of the hangar. The upper half of the jet was a shiny black, the lower half a vibrant metallic green, with a silver swoosh joining the two colors together, creating the effect of speed even when the aircraft was on the ground. Painted on the nose of the jet was a monstrous shark mouth, replete with two rows of triangular white teeth, and an eye with a mean-looking eyebrow.

Howard read aloud the white sequence of numbers and letters painted on the fuselage just below the vertical stabilizer. “November-Niner-Six-Niner-Victor-Juliet.” Howard turned to Danny. “Victor Juliet? Is this in reference to it being a Viper Jet?”

Danny nodded.

“Clever,” said Howard.

“I’ll prep for the roll-out, you grab the chalks.”

“Very good, sir.”

Danny ran around the aircraft, removing the red protective covers from the air intakes and the engine’s thrust nozzle at the rear of the airplane. He carefully looked into each cavity, checking for birds or bird nests, a common phenomenon at airports.

Danny completed the remaining items on his exterior preflight checklist while he watched Howard remove the yellow triangular-shaped blocks of wood from around the jet’s tires and hang them on their hooks mounted on the wall. He was impressed that Howard had known where to put them without being instructed to do so. He handed the tow-bar to Howard. “Want to tow it out?”

“I’d be honored, sir.” Howard quickly attached the prong of the tow-bar to the jet’s nose wheel and pulled. The jet rolled forward, and Howard backed up, pulling the aircraft out of the hangar.

“Nicely done, Howard!”

“Thank you, sir.”

Danny raised the canopy. He flipped the Master switch to
On
, activated all exterior illumination, and lowered the flaps. After circling the airplane once more to confirm all was as it should be, he turned them off and placed the tow-bar in the hangar beside the chalks. He grabbed two parachutes off the shelf and rejoined Howard at the jet.

“Ever been skydiving, Howard?”

“No, sir. I’ve not yet had the opportunity.”

“Does that mean you would like to go skydiving?”

“I believe I would, sir. From what I’ve seen on television, humans seem to find the experience most exhilarating. I would someday like to experience it for myself.”

“Well, not today.” Danny held up a parachute packed into its backpack. “I don’t anticipate you’ll need it, but this is a parachute. In the event that we have to depart the aircraft, I will blow the canopy, trim nose-down so that the airplane goes into a dive, and I’ll say, ‘Eject, eject, eject.’ You release your seat belt and climb out of the airplane. When you reach the designated altitude, the parachute will deploy automatically. If it doesn’t, pull the red D-ring. If that chute fails, pull the white D-ring. This deploys your back-up chute. If the back-up chute also fails, grab your ankles and kiss your ass goodbye, and try to smile when you hit the ground. Any questions?”

“No questions.”

Danny placed the parachute on the ground and Howard stepped into the leg straps. Danny helped Howard shrug the pack up onto his back, and buckled the buckles. Danny then donned his own parachute.

“Climb aboard.”

Howard deftly climbed into the cockpit and Danny showed him how to operate the four straps of the seat belt. He demonstrated the use of the helmet and its attachable oxygen mask before he realized Howard had no need of the oxygen. Danny climbed into the front seat, secured his own seat belt, and ran quickly but methodically through the remaining items on his checklist. He casually observed Howard adjusting the helmet, and making himself comfortable. Howard’s head swiveled in small, measured increments; he was studying the cockpit layout, studying the flight controls and glass panel displays; as any good aviator would.

Danny closed the canopy and started the engine, relishing the high-pitched whine and the slow, rumbling wind-up as the engine spooled up. Unlike those on his convertible, these sounds were authentic.

Danny glanced in his rear view mirror at Howard. Howard’s red eyes glowed.

Danny radioed the ground controller and got their taxi clearance, taxied east to the beginning of Runway 21, and taxied into the run-up area just short of the runway.

Beside them, in an old white-and-brown, high-wing Cessna 172 Skyhawk which looked to be easily fifty years old, an older man, clearly a seasoned pilot turned Flight Instructor, was attempting to teach the student in the seat beside him. Though both of them were fairly gawking at the green and black Viper Jet.

“Your jet attracts a lot of attention.” Howard’s robotic voice sounded smooth and calm in Danny’s headset.

“Yeah, that tends to happen from time to time.”

“Understandable. Your aircraft is very sexy.”

“Sexy?” Danny smiled. He’d never heard a robot use an adjective as subjective as ‘sexy’. He laughed. “I’m glad you think so, Howard.” With his thumb, Danny pressed his push-to-talk button on his joystick. “Santa Monica Tower, this is Niner-Six-Niner-Victor-Juliet, ready for takeoff.”

The airport wasn’t busy, and the tower controller responded quickly. “Roger, Niner-Victor-Juliet, you are cleared for takeoff Runway Two-One. ATIS information X-ray is now current. Winds calm. Sky Clear. Visibility is better than five thousand and five. Altimeter two-niner-niner-seven.”

“Two-niner-niner-seven, roger,” said Danny, “thank you for that.”

“Who you got in the back seat, Danny?” the tower controller asked.

“That’s my friend Howard.”

“You’re a lucky man, Howard. You fellas have a good flight. I’ve got a Gulfstream 950 on a three-mile final, so keep it moving around the corner, Danny.”