Read 3rd World Products, Book 17 Online

Authors: Ed Howdershelt

3rd World Products, Book 17 (11 page)

Looking almost confused as she glanced at me, Marie asked, “Hire me for what? I’m at least twenty years out of date on… well,
everything
that would matter.”

“That’s easily fixable, Marie. I think your real challenge would be working for younger people.”

For a moment Marie was silent, then she said, “Then I think we should definitely have that discussion, Colonel Horn.”

Colonel Horn. Cute. She closed a directive statement with a title, a gesture of respect. I watched Angie weigh matters briefly, then nod.

“I agree, Ms. Connor. I’ll have some time between two and four Tuesday afternoon. Ed, since you initiated this, why don’t you bring her out here to see me?”

“Oh, no problem at all, milady. I’ll just shelve some of my less critical projects to make room for your whims.”

“Thanks ever so much. Was that it? I have to be someplace soon.”

Looking at Marie, I asked, “Was that it?”

She nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

Angie said, “Then I’ll say goodnight now. See you then.” With that, she dropped the link.

Marie studied me for a time before she asked, “You’ll shelve some of your less critical projects?”

“I can’t let her underestimate her value to me, can I?”

Marie chuckled, “No, of course not. I see the resemblance, Ed. Except for the collar brass, she’s the Linda I knew in the eighties.”

“Wouldn’t settle for less.
Couldn’t
settle for less.” Meeting her gaze directly, I added, “And I
didn’t
settle for less. The woman they put in that chair before Angie failed completely.”

“Failed how?”

“She wasn’t enough like Linda. She couldn’t see all sides and angles at once, couldn’t fart without brass-plated permission, and needed to play pecking-order games. I got rid of her.”

Giving me a fisheye, Marie asked, “How?”

“I refused to cooperate. Retired, in fact, but not until that job was done. Lori Wilson was the mission. It isn’t really a secret, but I’d rather let Lori tell you about how I discovered her.”

Manifesting another fisheye, Marie asked, “Why can’t you tell me?”

I chuckled, “Because her version is a lot more impressive than mine and making her repeat it now and then helps her remember how wonderful I am.”

That got me a fisheye that lasted a few seconds, then Marie belly-laughed and said, “I’ve actually done the same thing a few times. And for about the same reasons, I think. Okay, I’ll ask her. What now?”

Shrugging, I said, “More flying. Navigation tips.”

“Okay, but we have all weekend for that. Tanya mentioned a club you two liked, but I don’t want to go there. Lesbians can be worse than guys in some ways. Remember that piano bar in Kaiserslautern? Is there anything like that here?”

“I dunno about here in Ocala, but we have one in Spring Hill. Tanya liked it for a while, but I think she got bored.” I almost added, ‘
And I’m pretty sure she told you about it,
‘ but I didn’t.

We called up our boards, I set my coffee mug aboard Galatea, and we got underway to Spring hill. Marie was up to something, and since she’d settled down a bit, I was willing to go along with it. For a while. Unless she blew up again, anyway.

I’d seen her quick-change act a few times long ago. Once she’d exploded at Will over a scheduling conflict, but all of a sudden she’d pulled her claws in and taken a rather theatrical calming breath, then said, “Never mind. Done is done.”

Will had looked at me as if to ask, ‘
What the hell?!
‘ as Marie left the room. The next day she faked pushing the wrong button on a drink machine and gave him the resulting bottle of Pepsi. That wasn’t like her, either. Pepsi wasn’t her first choice, but she’d drink one if a Coke wasn’t available. And as far as I knew, she’d never hit a wrong button before in her life.

That afternoon she’d called someone named Don to talk about helping her moving her stuff to a new apartment. When she got off the phone, she said, “He isn’t sure he’ll be off before seven and I have to get that stuff out of there tonight.”

Knowing I had to go to Landstuhl, she’d turned to Will. Of course. I didn’t think he was at all fooled, but he shrugged and said, “Sure.”

And it all worked out. Don got there a little after six, the stuff got moved, and Will had a little friendly leverage on Marie for a while. In the same vein, if I was about to be used in some manner, I’d either refuse to cooperate or try to bargain some similar leverage.

We took the long way, looping around Orlando and pausing for a time to watch planes take off and land at Orlando International Airport. Marie said the way air traffic controllers juggled dozens of planes at once had always amazed her. She then went on to say she’d dated an ATC in the eighties and told me about watching him work.

“On one occasion,” she said, “Everybody got very tense and some guy came to look over Ted’s shoulder. They ordered a few planes to do things, argued with a French pilot, and suddenly everything was okay again, but I saw the supervisor’s hands shake before he left.”

After all that screaming at me, she was being chatty? I’d seen the pattern before. She’d chat a while to put the mark off-guard, then spring whatever it was. I’d intended to introduce her to mental communication through her board control disk, but I shelved that idea for the moment. Saving that for use as a keel-righting shock seemed a good idea.

At Vonda’s Place, a new pianist was tickling out a blues tune while we chose a table and ordered drinks from a blonde waitress whose name tag read ‘Trish’.

I asked, “New here?” and she replied, “No, three months.”

“That means Vonda thinks you’re good, which means I might also see you behind the bar some nights, right?”

Her left eyebrow lifted. “Some nights, yes. You know Vonda?”

Nodding, I said, “For years. Tell her Dragonfly dropped by.”

Glancing toward the bar, she said, “She’s here. I’ll tell her you’re out here if you want.”

“If she has time, fine. If not, no biggie.”

Trish nodded and left to get our drinks. Marie had been looking the place over and announced it would do. She seemed to relax visibly, fully occupying her padded chair rather than simply sitting in it. She stretched gently and took a deep, quiet breath, then looked toward the piano and winced slightly as the pianist hit an odd note.

Noddingly indicating him, she said, “He’s not bad, except for those. That’s his third since we’ve been here.”

“He’s probably some friend’s kid making a few bucks. If we’re lucky, Vonda will play.”

“She’s good?”

“She can make Liszt’s B-minor Sonata look easy.”

With a grin, Marie said, “
OOOooo
, I think I’m impressed. I’d forgotten you knew anything about classical music, Ed.”

“Ha. Sure you did.”

Our drinks arrived before she could reply. I gave Trish some money and sipped my drink, then nodded. “Very good.”

Trish looked at Marie, who realized Trish actually cared what she thought of her drink. She sipped and also nodded. “Mine, too.”

Smiling, Trish left us again and we sat in silence for a time before Marie asked, “You think I’m up to something, don’t you?”

I chuckled, “Yup. Sure do.”

In a flat tone, Marie said, “I’m not sure yet. Maybe I’ll tell you about it later,” and sipped her drink again.

Okay. Later. Maybe. With a mental shrug, I studied the bar. Ages ranged from twenties to seventies. Some of the pairings seemed to be the May-September type, but most were of like ages.

At a nearby table a pair of fortyish couples seemed to be having an animated discussion. A woman at that table glanced at me several times and met my gaze once. She nodded slightly. I nodded to her and returned to studying the room.

With some people, a glance or a nod is all it takes to set them off. In this case, one of the men at the table had noticed our tiny exchange and I felt him eyeing me. He abruptly stood up and carried his drink to our table, where he sat down without asking. Transferring his drink to his left hand, his hands ended up about shoulder-width apart as he leaned across our table.

He growled, “You see something over there you like, sport?” Glancing at Marie, he asked, “And does your date here know you’re eyeballing other women?”

Using the motion of wiping some dampness off the table, I moved my left hand away from my glass and said, “We just noticed each other. And you seem to be sitting at the wrong table.”

“You’re tellin’ me to go away?”

“Very good. You got it on the first guess.”

“I don’t like people tellin’ me what to do.”

“That’s not a surprise. Do it anyway.”

His right hand suddenly shot toward my shirt collar and my left hand moved to intercept. Grabbing his thumb, I twisted it outward and down quickly, heard his thumb and wrist joints pop, and let go.

The guy’s mouth and eyes opened wide in pain and shock. He clenched his right hand close to his gut and stood up as he hissed, “
You motherfucker! I’m gonna…
” just as Vonda’s bouncer, Bert, arrived. Bert’s heavy hand clapped down on the guy’s shoulder and sat him back down hard.

Bert quietly said, “That’s twice this week, Tommy. When you get out of that chair, you’re leaving. You won’t be back.”

When Tommy glared up and started to speak, Bert wrapped a big hand around Tommy’s bicep and firmly added, “Shut up. You’re leaving, dude. Just get up and get moving.”

Apparently accepting his fate, Tommy said, “I gotta see my friends first. Let ‘em know…”

Lifting Tommy upright, Bert said, “They aren’t stupid. They’ll figure it out,” and helped a protesting Tommy find his way to the front door and outside. He then returned to our table and said, “Sorry about that. Are you two okay?”

Marie grinned and chuckled, “Oh, I think so. Thanks.”

Her apparent happiness made Bert’s left eyebrow arch, then he looked at me.

I shrugged. “I’m good. Thanks for putting a lid on things.”

Bert nodded. “That’s my job. Have a good evening.”

With that, he ambled over to the other table and spoke with Tommy’s companions. They didn’t seem too upset. The guy there even laughed shortly. Bert headed for the bar and spoke to the bartender. The woman who’d noticed me lifted her glass in a tiny salute and I nodded in return, then she turned to the others.

Marie said, “You seem to be as quick as ever.”

I met her gaze. “His intentions were pretty obvious.”

She snickered, “Yes, they were, but still…” She made a little grab and twist gesture and said, “That was entertaining.”

“Glad to hear it, ma’am.”

Trish swooped to our table, set down two fresh drinks, and said, “From Vonda.” She picked up Tommy’s glass and said, “I’m glad that jerk’s gone. I’m just sorry it involved you.”

With a shrug, I said, “Better me than someone else, ma’am.”

She didn’t seem to know what to say to that. After a moment, she grinned and nodded, then continued her rounds. I watched her swivel around some tables, then saw Vonda at her office door. She nodded a greeting and I returned a smile.

Marie asked, “I take it that’s Vonda?”

“Yup.”

“She’s cute. Is she just a friend?”

I replied, “Yup,” and sipped the last of my first drink, setting the empty glass down beyond the full glass.

Marie sipped her drink and sat eyeing it for a time, then said, “Other than Tanya, you’re the only person I really know here in Florida, Ed.”

That seemed unlikely.

I ventured, “Could be you’re overlooking someone.”

She shook her head. “No. The few good friends I had before my accident are gone. Dead or moved.” She sipped again, sighed, and said, “A helluva thing, isn’t it? I hated you for forty years and now you’re the only person I have any long-term connection to.”

I sipped and said, “Other than Tanya? And that should have been, ‘
to whom I have any long-term connection
‘, ma’am.”

Shooting me a narrow glance, she said, “I’m serious, dammit.”

Meeting her gaze, I nodded slightly. “Okay, but it’s Friday night and we’re having drinks in a piano bar, so why be serious? Your life’s been way too serious for way too long, lady. Take a break.”

Marie seemed annoyed. Her eyes held mine for a time, then she sipped again and set her empty glass next to mine. She started to pick up her fresh drink, then didn’t. Her fingers tapped the table a few times, then she said, “By God, you’re right. I don’t know what the hell it is with me; I’m always wound up tight for no reason.”

Maybe she expected some kind of response. If so, too bad. I wasn’t going to disagree; she was right. I wasn’t going to agree, either, and open the door to either analysis or argument.

At another table, someone’s elbow shoved a beer bottle over the edge. I sent an invisible tendril to catch it and soften its landing. Marie noted the small, quick gesture of my left hand and followed my gaze in time to see the bottle settle upright to the floor.

People at the other table marveled about the strange event as I took another sip and saw Marie eyeing me.

“Yes’m?”

She shook her head. “Never mind. I’ve seen you do other things.” A few beats of silence passed before she said, “Back in a few,” and quickly stood up to head for the piano.

I watched her go, then noticed Trish by the bar. She gave me a quizzical look, then turned back to what she’d been doing.

I thought, ‘
Nothing’s wrong, Trish. Marie’s just trying to make up her mind about something.
‘ Sipping my drink again, I watched Marie seemingly study the piano in great detail.

It seemed likely to me that Marie had been caught up in the earlier excitement of learning to fly her board and that she’d more or less decided to see if there could be anything between us. I’d have no objections if I thought she could contain her cranky streak, but I seriously doubted she’d be able to do that for very long.

On the other hand… She was an intelligent hottie. Why should the possibility that she’d turn mean at some future point be an obstacle? It would just mean she’d move on, and likely fairly quickly.

On the
other
other hand… if it didn’t matter, why did it seem to matter? Simple answer: she’d had enough tribulation and turmoil in her life lately. I was finally on her good side after forty years, and that seemed to mean something to me. I wasn’t sure what, exactly, but I liked this side better than the other.

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