“In a few more weeks, this thing is going to fly,” I tell her.
An Awkward Moment
“Now make sure Kylie has all of the DIP switches set to the addresses she’s programmed in,” Gramps reminds me again as I load the last interface card into the box.
“I’ll tell her,” I assure him, though in the three weeks we’d been working on the containment fields and the IC boards, I’m sure she’s heard it enough. “Why don’t you come over to double-check our connections?” I suggest. “We can always use another set of eyes.”
“I saw enough last week. You kids are doing just fine.” He follows me out to the truck. I set the box on the floor of the cab and close the door. He leans in, as if to keep anyone nearby from hearing. “Any more interruptions from Stiles?”
“I think he’s just keeping an eye on us for now,” I reply.
“Try to keep an eye on him, too.”
“It sure is a nuisance,” I complain, “having to make up a story to explain the wiring and the interface cards. And most of all, to test everything together.”
“That’s the way it is with covert operations,” Gramps replies. “Sometimes all you get before you have to make it all work, is a wing and a prayer. Now get going.”
I nod and start the engine. He raps the front fender as I back away, exhibiting a solemn look of concern on his face. And justifiably so. Jared, Jen and Willie have made a lot of progress installing the controls and wiring. Heck, if I were an outsider looking at the saucer, it would seem fairly obvious that there’s more than necessary for an exhibit of gyroscopic properties.
Gramps’ comment about ‘covert operations’ triggers my anxieties once again. But that’s what it’s been right from that first night we snuck over to the hangars after the landing, and the next night sneaking in to take a look for the escaped bits. The G-bit experiments, the nanotube conversions; all of it has been covert. At least it won’t be too much longer until we make our flight and expose the bigger injustice. I can’t even guess what the fallout from that will be.
I park the truck in front of the hangar. As I’m getting out, Kylie walks out to greet me with a big hug. She’s in a great mood.
“It’s about time,” she jokes. “We need your help.”
“With what?” I wonder, expecting another joke.
“With the skin,” she says as we walk through the big doors.
It’s no joke. Jared, Jennifer and Willie are wrestling with a large sheet of what looks like heavy canvas fabric. It’s completely without wrinkles and brilliantly reflects the small amount of mid-morning sun entering through the eastern windows. They stop when I walk in.
“We were just trying to figure out what would be the best way to do this,” Willie says without any greeting. “It’s pretty much cut to size, and we’ve used a template to cut the holes for all the containment tubes.”
I walk up to the material and feel the edge with my fingers. It’s slippery, a little stiff but still sagging between the ribs while they all hold it at the ends. “Wow! That’s pretty cool. Is it lightweight?”
“As light as we can get,” Willie answers. “And after we apply the curing solution, it’ll shrink a little and harden as the remaining moisture is pulled out of it.”
“Amazing.”
“But we’re having a hard time getting it into place. And it’s got to be secured along the way,” Jared explains.
“So what’s the plan?” I ask.
“We were just trying to figure that out,” Jen reiterates. “It’s going to take all five of us.”
“And the underside is going to be even worse,” Kylie adds.
The saucer has had new sections of sheet aluminum added around the tubes for the lifters and pitch controllers. When I check the latter closer, I also see new support pieces underneath. I wonder if anybody weighed them for the spreadsheet.
“We needed a little more support around the tubes,” Willie says.
“Better too much than not enough,” I answer. The frame looks magnificent sitting on its stands. “So what are we doing here?” I ask again, turning my attention back to the skin.
“We just have to get the fabric up on the frame and fairly snug onto each rib,” Willie says. “Then we use these pop darts to secure it.” He holds up what looks like a nail gun.
“How’s that work?” I ask.
“Pretty much like a pop riveter, except you don’t have to drill any holes. You just have to have the proper leverage so the gun doesn’t recoil on you when you fire it. I don’t think we can get that just standing between the ribs. The frame is just too high up.”
I look at the scaffold on the far side of the saucer. “Could you lie down on a scaffold plank and get enough leverage?” I ask. “We could set the scaffold planks over the ribs, in a V-shaped pattern. Then somebody lying on the board could put almost their full weight on the gun.”
“It’s worth a try,” Jared says. “Let’s get busy…”
“Misters,” we all call out together.
Two sections of scaffold, previously used to transport materials to the cockpit, get rolled quickly into place. Instead of resting the planking on the junction of the cowling and ribs, Willie quickly devises hangers from the top of the cowling to just above where the fabric has to fit in. The other end of the plank sits easily on the scaffold.
“Now all we have to do is walk the fabric under the planks,” I say. “Willie, you pop the fasteners in while Kylie and I stand between the ribs and stretch the material.”
“I can do that,” Willie says.
“Jared and Jen, you pull the fabric taut at the other end. Kylie, Willie and I will stretch and pop our way down the ribs towards you.” It sounds easy enough.
“Let’s do it,” Jen says.
Willie loads the dart gun and walks down the plank to the cowling. Kylie and I slide under the outer frame of the saucer so Jennifer and Jared can pass the fabric to us. It’s hard to keep hold of which makes moving the big piece difficult.
We pull while Willie pops his way down the ribs from the cowling. Everyone’s hands soon ache from the effort, and it is impossible to pull all of the sag out of the skin once we get to the outer most section where it is wider. We stop to refine our process.
“My fingers are already getting stiff,” Jared grumbles. “Isn’t there a better way to grip this stuff?”
“Can we use pliers?” I ask, turning to Willie.
“We’ve never had to do that at the shop. We’ve never needed a piece this big. But yeah, probably, since we’ll have to do some trimming anyway.”
“Good!” Jared says, and begins to search around for the tools.
“I can’t pull any tighter,” Kylie reports. “Can anyone else take over for me at this point?”
“I don’t think any of us can stretch that tight enough, Kylie,” Willie says. “We need to add something to our plan.” After a couple more seconds, “Hey Jared? Are there any three foot one by fours around? We need to make a ‘T’.”
“I’m right here, Willie,” Jared announces, as he walks up from the other side with four pair of pliers of various age and use. “I’ll have to go look.”
“Maybe there are some pieces where we got the blocks to jack this thing up,” I suggest as I walk to the back of the hangar. Everyone watches and waits. “Just some two by sixes between twelve and eighteen inches long,” I yell over.
“Bring ‘em over!” Willie yells back. “We can nail the pieces together to form the ‘T’ at just the right height!”
I carry the boards over to the saucer. Jared has retrieved a hammer and nails from the tool box and pounds the top board on. “Better to have it just a little too high,” Willie suggests.
Jared crawls under to fit the height of the boards. “How’s that?” he asks sounding strained as he adjusts the newly fashioned support.
“Just a little higher,” Willie orders. We hear Jared grunt. “That’s good,” Willie calls to him. Jared nails the last two boards together and pu
ts the added support in place before crawling out.
We all get back to our positions. Jared and Jen grab their corners with the pliers. “This is much easier,” Jen quickly comments.
Kylie and I pull as Willie pops the remaining darts through the fabric before heading back towards the cowling again. “I’m going to go pop a few around the tubes. Why don’t you guys cut the next piece.”
We unroll another section of fabric. Jen and Jared measure it out, then Jared cuts it with a tool that looks similar to a pair of scissors, but heavy duty. Jen puts the templates for the tubes in place, outlining the holes with a black marker. Jared cuts those, too.
Kylie and I have to wait until Willie is done before the three of us can reposition the scaffold and planking. “What about the ends?” I ask Willie when everything is set.
“After the skin is on underneath, I’ll pull the bottom piece up, overlap the top piece and pop it into the skirt metal. It’s going to require some trimming, maybe even some stitching to get it smooth. But we can’t do that until all the wiring’s in place.”
“Stitching?” Kylie asks.
“Yeah, this stuff comes will all kinds of trimming possibilities. There’s glue, and tape, and a kind of upholstery thread with a big curved needle. I’ve never used that stuff, but it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out.”
“Why not just tape it?” I ask.
“Maybe we will. We’ll have to see what works best.”
“Ready!” Jared calls out as he and Jen walk towards us with the next piece of fabric.
Without a word, Willie climbs up to walk the plank with a reloaded dart gun. With the first piece in place, I have to follow Willie up and work from the planking, too. Kylie and I pull the fabric to where Willie waits by the cowling. Willie pops while we all stretch the fabric. In no time we have the second piece in place. Willie climbs back to pop a few around the tubes.
“Is it lunch time?” I ask as I climb down from the scaffold.
“You always think it’s lunch time,” Jared declares humorously.
“Well, I agree,” Jen says. “And I’ve brought lunch today.” Kylie and Jared apparently already know. “Last night, some customer at the cafe had their pizza order made wrong,” she explains. “Instead of throwing it out, Jimmy said I could take it home. All we need to do is heat it up.”
“Sounds good.”
“It is good,” Jen declares.
Willie finishes up quickly, and we begin to head out the big doors. As we pass through into the sunshine, a voice greets us. “How’s it going, kids?” The hair on my neck stands up. It’s Stiles.
“Just heading to the house for a little lunch,” Jared answers casually. “Care to join us?”
Jared’s offer surprises me. Suddenly I remember the box of parts I had brought over. Did I take it into the hangar? No! Kylie met me. I left them in the truck! The truck is sitting a few yards away. If he looks in it, we’ll have a whole lot more lying to do.
“No thanks, son,” Stiles replies, with a sickening sour-sweetness in his voice. “I just thought I’d see how your gyroscope exhibit is coming along.” I don’t like the way he emphasizes ‘gyroscope exhibit’.
“C’mon in and take a look,” Willie says proudly. “We just finished putting a couple pieces of the skin on.”
I try not to hold my breath as the three of them walk through the door towards the saucer. “Very nice,” I hear Stiles comment in his syrupy tone.
“We’ll go start lunch,” Jen calls after them. “You have about thirty minutes.”
“I won’t keep them long,” we hear Stiles say. Then he engages Willie with a question about the composite skin, which we can’t hear.
“C’mon. Let’s take the truck,” I suggest hurriedly.
“I guess it is a little hot to walk,” Jen agrees as I open up the passenger’s door. She looks in, spots the boxes with the containment fields and controller boards, and looks at me with a wild, worried expression.
Kylie sees them, too. “I guess we ought to get moving,” she urges quietly.
“Uh huh,” I nod, trying to stay relaxed as I walk around the front to get in the truck.
Kylie looks out the rear window as we head down the road to her house. Satisfied the components won’t be discovered, she faces forward again. “That was close,” she exclaims. “I’m glad that doesn’t happen every day.”
“And I’m glad you came out to greet me,” I comment. “I forgot about bringing the parts into the hangar when I saw you.” I reach over to pat her hand where it’s securing one of the boxes on her lap.
“We sure were lucky,” Jen concurs.
“We’ve been lucky with a lot of things, it seems,” Kylie affirms as I pull to a stop in front of the house.
Jen opens her door to get out. “We’d better bring them in the house now, just in case Stiles does come down,” she cautions.
I follow Kylie and Jen into the house. “Why don’t you bring them down here to my room,” Kylie suggests. Jen hands me the box she carried in, and I follow Kylie down the hall.
In all my visits to see Jared, I had never once been in Kylie’s room. I had passed by her door on my way to his room, but it was usually closed. To actually be invited in feels strange and awkward and exciting.
The room is clean, but then I should have expected that. Mom always points out how much cleaner most girls keep things compared to boys. I could only guess how she was looking forward to raising a daughter.
As I follow Kylie in, I look around. The décor reveals small parts of her life; stuffed animals sitting on shelves around the mirror over her dresser; a couple posters of some boy bands; and her computer sitting on a desk. It’s a comfortable feeling room.
“Over here,” Kylie orders, setting her box down and opening the closet doors. I carry my box of parts over to hide them where she is pointing. As I set them down, I notice a basket of clothes on the right side. On top of the pile I notice some of her underwear. For a split second I focus on one piece; a bra. Other than my mother’s on laundry day, I have never seen one that somebody else actually wears. And it’s Kylie that wears this one.
I back out quickly, turning away from Kylie who stands to one side waiting to close the closet doors again. I can feel my face flush, and in spite of the hot weather, feel even hotter.
“What’s the matter?” Kylie asks, instantly aware of my discomfort. She peers into the closet, quickly guesses the source of my embarrassment and closes the doors. “Oops,” she giggles coyly. “Forgot about those. Sorry.” She’s seems only a little embarrassed as she takes hold of my hand to drag me out. “You’re so cute,” she assures me quietly.
She lets go as we walk back into the kitchen, where Jen looks around from the oven. I guess I’m still a little red. “What’s up with him?” she questions Kylie.
“Nothing,” Kylie quickly covers, though I guess they will probably talk later, “Just an awkward moment.”
“Well, the oven’s still pre-heating, but it shouldn’t take long to warm these pizzas up,” Jen tells Kylie. Kylie walks over to pull some perforated pizza pans from a cabinet.
“I’ll wait for the guys on the porch,” I say, still feeling embarrassed.
I close the door behind me. It’s quiet but hot on the porch. The sun has moved far enough around the south side of the house so that shadow engulfs the steps. I sit down, laying my forearms across my knees. Feeling tired and dismal, I briefly review the scene from Kylie’s bedroom. Will I ever feel comfortable where girls are concerned? Right now, it doesn’t seem like it.
The warm wind quickly washes my concerns away. I look down the road towards the hangars to see Jared and Willie walking along. It’s hard to tell if they are talking. Their heads are hanging down as they scuffle along the dirt road.
“Boy, that guy is a pain!” Jared cries as they walk up to the porch. “I thought we were in trouble for sure!”
“Why? What happened?” I ask.
“Why are you sitting out here?”
Willie interrupts, sweat rolling down his face. “It’s hotter than blazes! Let’s go in and at least enjoy the AC!”
They walk up the steps beside me. I get up to follow, glad to have the guys around again. “Just waiting for you,” I reply before changing the subject. “You know, I had containment frames and circuit boards in the truck when we left.”
“I had no idea,” Willie replies, as we walk into the kitchen. “We’ve really got to be more careful.”
“You can say that again,” Jared agrees.
“Careful about what?” Jennifer asks, ending her conversation with Kylie to find out what Jared and Willie are talking about. I sit down at the table to listen.
“Stiles,” Jared restates. “He just kept asking question after question. And now you tell me about what was in the truck? This project will be over soon if we don’t keep our stories straight.”
“What do you mean?” Kylie asks innocently. “There’s nothing out there right now that would give any clue that we’re not doing just what we say we’re doing.”
“Yeah? And what would you say if he asks you what the tubes around the cowling are for?” Kylie ponders the question. “See?” her brother chides her. “Not only does it take a minute to think up an answer, but what if you don’t tell him the same thing Willie told him? Then he’ll really know something’s going on.”
“What did you tell him?” Jen asks, turning to Willie.
“That they’re for lights,” Willie quickly replies.
“And it’s a good thing you said so, and right away. I reacted like Kylie did just now,” Jared confesses sheepishly, “and that’s no good. It’ll look suspicious.”
“What else did he ask?” Jen inquires further.
“About the skin, about the frame; he even crawled underneath and looked around.”
“At least he didn’t see the circuit boards,” Jared sighs, looking up. “And he couldn’t see into the cowling, which is good. Wouldn’t surprise me if he snoops around after dark.”
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