Free 3rd World Products, Book 16 by Ed Howdershelt Page A

dropped the bugs into the glass. Tanya looked as if she might burst into tears.  
    She whispered, “Is it safe to talk now?”  
    “Yeah, prob’ly so. See those little bubbles? If they were waterproof they wouldn’t be leaking air.”  
    Taking the glass, she turned toward the sink.  
    I said, “Better to flush them,” and she turned again without comment, walking quickly to the bathroom.  
    Her hands were shaking as she dumped the glass into the toilet and pushed the handle down at almost the same time. That’s probably why one of the bugs wasn’t swept away.  
    She swore and almost frantically tried to make the toilet flush again and I stepped close to put a hand on her shoulder.  
    “Relax. It can’t hear us. Let the toilet refill and we’ll use some paper to help it along.”  
    With tears brimming in her eyes, Tanya shakily, quickly asked, “Is that all of them? Are you absolutely sure? How did you know about the others?”  
    Judging it time to put her mind at ease, I materialized a four-foot gray field screen. It followed the walls around the room, sweeping through cabinets and fixtures, and ended its journey at the toilet. The screen’s edges pulsed bright red when it encountered the bug in the bowl.  
    I said, “Sometimes I have them report what they find. No flashing. That’s for your benefit, to show what they do. I swept the apartment while I was in the doorway.”  
    The toilet stopped filling. I pulled some paper off the roll and dropped it in the bowl. Once it sank, I said, “Now try it.”  
    Tanya quickly reached for the handle and practically slammed it down. Everything swirled away.  
    Still trembling, she took my arm to turn me around and said, “I need the bathroom, please.” As I pulled the door shut behind me, she said, “I might be a few minutes, okay?”  
    I said, “Take your time,” then shut the door and went to the living room.  
    Sipping some of my Dr. Pepper, I called up a two-foot screen and sent a probe to have a look at the nursing home. Marie was on the second floor. The windows didn’t open, of course. That would have been too easy. I pulled up her med records and tried to make sense of them briefly, then fed them through my core for translations.  
    Simplified: Bone fragments driven through brain tissue. Small bits of brain tissue lost at the scene and more removed later when surgery removed fragments of bone. Months of antibiotics and drugs. Toxins from physical inactivity and a persistent low grade infection. That was the top third of one page. There were eight more pages in that particular folder.  
    I sighed and had a look at Marie’s progress photos. Deep dents around her head. Scar tissue across her forehead and temples. Places with no hair. Damn. How much more did I need to know? Or see? Just the basics. General health good. A minor but persistent sinus infection due to crushing of the maxillary sinus. Reconstructive surgery ‘recommended’.  
    Looking at the sinus X-rays, I thought, ‘ No shit. ’  
    Three pages further I found notes on her abilities to walk and talk. She was almost unintelligible, but alert and apparently able to recognize family and friends. She frustrated easily due to communication problems. Although she still had a tendency to drag her left leg, she could walk. A video showed her almost lurching instead of walking on a slow treadmill. She had almost no use of her left arm.  
    The toilet flushed and some moments later I heard the sink water run, then the bathroom door opened soon after that and Tanya came to stand a few feet behind me.  
    I said, “It’s a field screen and it’s showing me some info about your mom and the nursing home.”  
    “I can see that. What’s a field screen?”  
    “Please don’t ask questions like that. You can see it’s a field used as a display screen.”  
    She moved to stand by my right shoulder and reached to try to touch the screen. Her fingertips passed through it and she