"Okayyyy,” I allowed, pointing at the left side, “This seems to tell me it'll stop most rifle rounds and probably most small shrapnel."

  "No,” said Athena, “Not ‘most'. All. Whether by accident or design, you shaped this matrix so it could reinforce itself."

  "How will it do that?"

  "By shifting power from regions with lesser needs."

  Still holding my board matrix, I hefted it. “This thing only weighs about two ounces. How much will my suit weigh?"

  Athena canted her head and gave me a fisheye, then said, “Eighty-three-point-three ounces, but why does that matter? You won't have to carry it."

  Duh. She's right. Lifting an index finger, I said, “That's a damned good point."

  "Have you thought about how it will be different from your board?"

  "Not yet.” Thumbing over the side, I said, “I figured I'd have a few hundred miles to figure things out."

  She grinned at me and said, “As I said earlier, sometimes you entertain me,” and then she vanished.

  I sat contemplating her last words. Well, my first efforts with my board had amused Sue well enough. How would this suit be different from the board? No idea, but it seemed likely to me there'd be enough similarity to make it usable immediately.

  I remembered when I'd asked Elkor about a briefcase that could become a protective and flying device over a decade ago and he'd told me of its limitations. The problem hadn't been that he couldn't make something that would work. The problem had been in the manner of my asking. I'd inadvertently specified unworkable limitations on the master device and he'd still been new at interpretation and inferral. And at thinking for himself, essentially.

  With a mental sigh, I thought, ‘Oh, well. If I'd shown more imagination back then, I probably would have had my board a lot sooner and this armor long before now.'

  As I sipped coffee, I realized I'd left something out of the suit design. Where to put my coffee mug? Then it occurred to me that there didn't necessarily have to be a mug at all. I could make a field mug any time. Okay, then, where to put instant coffee? Nowhere. The suit wouldn't exist all the time and I'd long ago stopped keeping a briefcase overhead. Maybe it was time to start using it again.

  How much carry space did I really need? About that of a backpack. Maybe just a detachable container to protect a backpack in transit? Yeah. Pulling up the Internet on a screen and searching a catalog of backpacks turned up some hard shell designs out of Europe and Asia. I borrowed a design and replicated it in green to match the suit, then stuck it on the back of the suit. Hm. Kinda bulky looking, but what the hell ... it was a backpack shell. I put my backpack under it and stuck it back on the suit, then reshaped it a bit more until it seemed to look better.

  Swilling the last of my coffee, I took the pack shell off one more time, put my mug in my pack, and put it all back on the suit. Nah. Still not right. I had three sizes of backpacks. Maybe the suit could form around me and whichever pack I carried? I was about to ping Athena when she chuckled, “So amended."

  "Thank you again, milady. I told you I'd be lost without you."

  "I'm flattered, but still skeptical."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Five

  Altitude two hundred miles. High enough for a decent practice run. I used the Internet screen to look up my likely travel time to the ground and found multiple answers. A typical skydiver in a belly-flat fall maxes at around 122 MPH. Make it about 200 MPH in a head-first dive. But those were numbers for the lower atmosphere. Some guy named Kittenger managed 614 MPH in a high-altitude dive. Shrug. All those different speeds were meaningless. I'd be wearing a flight suit and I wanted to see what it could do, so time to the ground didn't really matter a damn.

  Hm. Wait one. Could my board matrix keep up with the suit? Doubtful, but I might need it for something. Using my side of Athena's core, I instructed it to wrap itself around my lower left leg. Good enough for now? Would the suit adapt to it? Standing up, I canceled the Ed2 simulation and the armor, put on my backpack, and said, “Hardsuit on."

  The suit manifested itself around me. I sent a probe to have a look at how it fit my pack and all seemed good. No straps sticking out, anyway. I looked like a faceless emerald statue wearing a round-top helmet and there were almost no articulations around arms or legs or chest. Did I need articulations?

  Hm. Other people might, if only to relate to me as something other than a big green stick figure. But at 187 pounds, I'm not a muscleman and don't particularly want to give that impression. I wasn't about to turn the flight armor into a Batman-style skin suit. And my left leg looked rather swollen.

  I said, “Hardsuit off,” and moved my board matrix around front. Maybe it could impersonate a big plate of armor there? Nope. It looked altogether odd and would restrict movement. Around back, then. Under the pack? Just for now? I tried it. Nope. Not at all comfortable under the pack. In the pack, then. I barely managed to get the pack zipped shut at the top, but at least I'd found a place for the board.

  "Good ‘nuff. Hardsuit on."

  The suit again formed and I tested its flexibility, moving and folding my arms and legs a few times. I didn't feel the suit wrinkling or bunching at the knees and elbows and checked my joints. The suit seemed to flow and smooth itself out instantly. Examining my hands, I spread fingers and made fists. No problems. Resistance was about the same as if I were wearing foam gloves.

  Now ... about flying it ... I wouldn't want to lie flat and try to stare up at where I was going. That looked as if it would be pretty hard on the neck. Maybe twenty-five degrees off vertical would work better. After all, that's about as far as I usually leaned while riding the bike. I could save horizontal for when I was in a real hurry. Or maybe reshape the protective field to accommodate matters? Yeah. Comfort counts.

  I went through the motions of envisioning my ideas for a time. Right or wrong didn't matter; when I stepped off the flitter I'd find out more or less instantly if I was even a little bit wrong. Destination, other than down? I sent a ping to Lori.

  She answered with, “Hi, Ed. What's up?"

  "Hi, Lori. I'm upstairs, messing with a new idea. Want to see it?"

  "Sure."

  "Make a probe, then, and have it track me when I hop over the side."

  Her probe popped into being and circled me once as she asked, “What the hell is that thing?"

  "I watched ‘Iron Man 2’ on the way up. Does that about cover it for ya?"

  She laughed, “I guess so. What all can it do?"

  "We're about to find out. Athena, would you zap a copy of this suit's specs to Xenia, please?"

  Athena's warm fuzzy voice replied, “Certainly, Ed. Done."

  "Thank you, ma'am. I love your voice, y'know."

  "Yes, I know. You've mentioned that before."

  "Lori, the details of this suit idea are just between us for now, okay?"

  "Uh ... okay. How long is ‘for now', Ed?"

  "Don't know yet. Ready to track me?"

  "Yes. Whenever you're ready."

  "Now's good.” I tried to lift the suit matrix in about the same manner as I did the board matrix. That worked well enough; I quickly soared a hundred feet above the flitter and leaned forward and left to make the suit head for the ground. The suit responded instantly, just as had the board, and just as with my first flight on the board, I had to hurriedly compensate to avoid a spinning plummet.

  Picking a direction at random, I leveled the suit and fed it power. The suit gained speed, but I had no idea how fast I was going. Did that matter right now? No. Like the board, it wouldn't let me outfly its protective capabilities. But I was heading east and already over the Atlantic Ocean and Lori was at Carrington. I think.

  Turning the suit northwest, I asked, “Lori, are you at Carrington this week?"

  "Yes. Are you coming here?"

  "Might as well. This is a test flight. Just a minute while I set up some displays."

  Linking to my side of the core, I had it install a few translucent flight info readings within my range of vision. Good. Not in the way at all and I could see through them. Too bright, though. I lowered their brightness by half. Altitude 97 miles, air speed 936 MPH. Radar clean. Not in stealth mode, but having a field signature meant there were no worries about being mistaken for a missile. I pushed the speed up and managed to reach 1128 MPH.

  "Ed, are you okay?"

  "Yup. Why?"

  "You've been quiet for quite a while."

  "Been thinking, ma'am."

  "Okay, but ... never mind. How's it going?"

  "Good so far. I'm gonna get flat and see how fast it'll really go."

  Keeping my arms at my sides, I boosted power to the suit, flying by instrument readings. Altitude 121 miles, air speed just over 1200 MPH, attitude dead level. Overlaying a map, I made it show Carrington's location and adjusted my heading eight degrees. My speed passed 1400, then 1500.

  Lori chuckled, “I think I'm getting bored, Ed. This would be a lot more interesting if I could see the instruments, too."

  "Oops. Sorry. Hold one.” I patched a copy of my readings into her probe as my speed passed 1700 and she muttered, “Oh, holy shit...” then said, “Hey, wait. A flitter is faster and you can make it green. What's the big deal about this suit?"

  "It's bullet proof. Shrapnel proof. It isn't just a flight suit."

  "Great. So's a flitter. What else can it do?"

  "Huh. You don't sound properly impressed at all, ma'am."

  "Maybe because I'm not."

  I sighed, “Oh, well. I'll be there in a few. Been to dinner yet?"

  "No. It's close enough to five. Meet me in the mess hall."

  "Sounds good. Over ‘n out."

  "Bye. Let me know if you crash, okay?"

  "Funny girl. See ya."

  Her presence vanished and I had my side of Athena's core manifest an emerald standard flitter. I was tired of almost looking ‘up’ all the time and Lori was right. A flitter was better. I turned off the hardsuit and called up the Ed2 sim again, then had the suit form around the sim. It looked even more bland and featureless than before. Maybe a Batman-style suit would look better after all. Or no suit at all? It could operate in refractive mode. Maybe it would be best to set it aside for times when a standard protective field wouldn't be quite enough.

  But I hadn't had any such times since long before I re-retired. In fact, retirement was just as gawd-awful boring as it had been a decade ago. I suddenly realized what the half-assed suit idea and the visit with Lori at Carrington were really about. I was attempting to place myself in opportunity's path.

  My flitter's console lit up with a blonde's face. She said coolly, “Dragonfly, this is Carrington. Are you coming here?"

  "Yup."

  "Do you have any passengers?"

  "Just me."

  "May I ask the purpose of your visit?"

  "Dinner with a friend."

  "May I ask who that friend might be?"

  "Nope. Why all the questions? New procedures?"

  She gave me an arch look and replied, “You could say that."

  "Bye, lady.” I reached for the ‘off’ icon.

  She yelped, “Don't you dare cut me off! I'll..."

  I never found out what she'd do. I sent a stun through our connection and watched her reel and topple. Some guy shoved his chair away from another console to roll a few feet and catch her halfway to the floor. Another guy hove into close view on the screen and asked, “What just happened to her?!"

  "She was running her face and got all wobbly or something."

  By that time I was descending into Carrington's air space. I turned off the monitor, turned on my five suit, and stepped off the flitter onto freshly-scraped steps outside the admin building's west door. At the checkpoint just inside the doors I was issued a clip-on ‘A'-class visitor's badge without so much as a call to verify me. I looked at the guy behind the kiosk counter and asked why.

  He showed me my name on his screen and said, “If you're on this list and your IDs check out, you get in."

  Nodding, I replied, “Just curious. Thanks."

  Giving me a tap-of-the-hat salute, he said, “Have a good day, sir,” and stood there with one of those ‘I'm just waiting for you to leave’ expressions.

  I said, “You too,” and headed for the mess hall.

  Linking to my core, I had it locate Barbara Roberts using her badge's comm signal. Interestingly enough, she was in Angie's office, about five feet from Angie's badge. Neither of the badge blips moved. They were prob'ly at her desk.

  My comm implant pinged. I put up a screen and answered, “You got me,” and Angie asked, “Ed, what are you doing here?"

  "Dinner with Lori."

  "You came all the way up here just for that? Really? What's wrong?"

  "Nothing's wrong and Carrington isn't ‘way up here’ with a flitter. Besides, how busy do you think I am down there in Florida? I could probably spend a week away and nobody'd notice. You had dinner yet? You could join us."

  "No, I'm in a meeting. Okay. Later, Ed."

  "Later, F ... Angie."

  Her left eyebrow went up. “What did you almost call me?"

  I chuckled, “Guess, ma'am. Old habits die hard. Bye."

  With a tiny grin, she replied, “Yeah. Bye,” and poked her ‘off’ icon.

  Okay, I'd set the stage. With a witness, the very woman who'd had her trainee crews tail me during previous visits. I was almost to the mess hall doors when I saw Lori approaching from another hallway. I waved, she waved, and I waited by the doors for her. Lori quickened her step slightly and I wondered why.

  She arrived beside me and took my arm as she said, “Oh, good. I caught you."

  I grinned and said, “Oh, good, I'm caught. Could be a lot worse, right? You could be Rosie O'Donnell."

  She snickered, “No way in hell. Look, on the way here I heard Aunt Lisa's in the mess hall. Can we postpone dinner a while?"

  Putting up a screen and sending a probe into the mess hall, I saw Lisa talking intently to some guy. She pretended shock at something he'd said and grinningly smacked his bicep. He made some smiling reply, then she put her arm in his and leaned close to say something confidentially.

  I shook my head. “No need to put dinner on hold. She's with some guy and they seem pretty tight. Who is he, her new squeeze?"

  "That's Randolph Torell. She says they're just friends."

  "Uh, huh. Crap. If she hasn't banged him yet, she will soon."

  Wide-eyed Lori smacked my bicep and hissed a bout of laughter with a hand over her mouth.

  I asked, “What? Look at her. She's practically climbing into his lap."

  Lori let out a soft cackle and leaned on the wall as she recovered. After a moment, she said, “I still say we wait a while. I'm not starving, are you?"

  "Wasting away to nothing, ma'am. I don't give a damn if she's in there. Let's go eat. If she becomes too annoying, we'll just stun her."

  Rolling her eyes, Lori said firmly, “We will NOT stun Aunt Lisa tonight."

  "But we will go on in and get dinner, right?"

  Levering herself away from the wall, Lori sighed, “Yeah, come on,” and seemed to trudge ahead of me into the mess hall. I let her continue to the serving line as I veered toward Lisa. She saw me coming and straightened up, releasing Randolph's arm. Behind me I heard Lori hiss, “Oh, shit,” then her probe formed near my shoulder.

  "Hi, Lisa,” I said, “Is this the guy you dumped me for?"

  She gave me a big fisheye and a sharp, “What?!"

  Randolph's eyes got as big as Lisa's, then his gaze narrowed. I held up a hand and said to him, “Just kidding. When we met, she thought I was after Lori, so we never had anything more than an ongoing argument as a relationship."

  Lisa yelped, “I did NOT think you were AFTER her, Ed. I just thought you were pushing her too hard."

  I shrugged and admitted, “Yeah, well, I prob'ly was. A number of uncharitable people have told me I can be difficult.” Looking at Lisa, I said, “Anyway, Lori and I just want to eat and run. We're gonna get a table by ourselves and I didn't want you to have any hurt feelings. Okay?"

  She glanced at Randolph, then at Lori, and then looked back at me for a moment before she replied, “Uh, okay. What's so..."

  I interrupted her with, “Thanks, ma'am. Bye, all."

  With that, I turned to join Lori at the serving line. Her glare said it all. I grabbed a tray, plates, and silverware and pointed at one of the steaks on display. In the reflection of the room in the Plexiglass sneeze guard, I saw Lisa and Randolph holding a conference almost nose-to-nose. He glanced at me in a desultory manner and said something and Lisa noddingly agreed as if he'd just spoken high gospel. Heh. Or maybe low gospel?

  Good enough. That would keep both of them at bay on social levels and very likely make Randolph do some digging on his own. That would likely get someone's attention. I reached for a baked potato and met Lori's eyes in her reflection.

  She muttered, “What was all that about?"

  "Think she'll come to our table?"

  "No. Well, maybe. Hell, I don't know."

  "If she does, she'll probably lose Randolph first. Wanna know why I'm here?"

  "Yes, actually, I do."

  "Can't say exactly. It just seemed to happen. Know what that means?"

  Rolling her eyes again, she responded, “No, Ed. What does that mean?"

  As we took our stuff to an empty table, I said, “In this case, I think it means my subconscious is trying to find me something to do. Retirement still sucks."

  "You want 3rd World to hire you back?"

  "Not exactly. Maybe as a contractor. After I left, I had some job offers from government agencies and a couple of in-house mercenary outfits. Some of them got pretty obnoxious about it when I said ‘no'."

  She looked up from cutting her steak. “What are in-house mercenaries?"

  "Paramilitary companies based in the US or exclusively employed by the US."

  Lori chuckled, “Sounds right up your alley."

  "Years ago, maybe."

  "Have you suddenly sprouted a conscience?"

 

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