Jake spent the following days planning and drawing, cursing himself each step of the way. Fallon’s expected arrival gave him an impending sense of doom. Why he was secretly afraid of Fallon, a man he had never met previously was beyond him.
He spent most of his days in Jo’s house, always trying to figure out how to improve on his designs. He was getting the hang of the schematics planning, but how he was going to materialise a drawing weighed heavy on his shoulders. Not knowing what Fallon was going to bring and constantly seeing Jo and James huddled together and speaking softly caused stress. Usually their heads would be almost locked together, peering over something on James’ computer, only breaking to burst out into laughter and curse at each other.
How come he had no one to work with? He was nothing more than the hired help. A slave, driven by those who were simply higher up on the food chain. Their sharp, caustic humour gnawed at him, though Jo always laughed and teased, which made things a little less tense. James simply was not bothered by Jake’s presence. Fallon was supposed to arrive in two days and Jake figured he should put aside his trepidation and look forward to having a rough-neck with him. More than anything, he wanted to know what Fallon’s relationship with Jo was.
“You got that clay model done yet, Mr. Sulky?” Jo came from behind him. He had been so far away in his thoughts he had not heard her approach, though he comforted himself with the fact that she was a trained militant and knew how to be stealthy. “What the fuck is your problem anyways? You’re supposed to be enjoying this, but you spend all day working. I thought nerds like me were the ones who had to work hard. What’s eating you?”
“Nothing. I’m just trying to catch up, that’s all. And by the way, ‘smart’ people like you don’t have to work hard for anything. So leave me alone, Jo” he groused.
“Oh. Fine. You want to play the whole ‘poor me I’m not smart enough to build a weapons delivery system’ role, you go ahead. James and I need the clay model and we needed it like, yesterday,” she said, dejected. Hurt flashed in her eyes and he felt like a royal cad.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay. I just have to concentrate if I’m going to get this right,” he said gently.
“Hah! Gotcha, Jakie-poo! Hows about this, James-sie, Hootch and I will move in here, just till Fallon comes. Fallon’s a bastard, but he’ll get along with you, I’m sure. He’s, well, not as pleasant as I am or even as easily understood as James, but trust me. Your learning curve will go ‘exponentional’!” she laughed out. “Just get that clay model ready by the end of tomorrow, so we’ve got something for the Grouch to work on, okay? We good? Should we have a huggle session to ease the tension?”
“I don’t need a damned huggle, dammit. Send Hootch in, tell him I’ll split my sandwich with him in exchange for company,” he said. She made him smile, but he would not let her figure that out.
“Yessir! One pooch that hasn’t had a bath in over a week coming right up! Don’t be stingy!” she called out as she left the room.
Almost immediately Hootch trotted in, as though he knew there was a food-reward coming his way. Smiling at the dog, he handed the entire sandwich to the dog and moved towards the pigeon-holed wall to get modelling clay out.
“Just what I need, a day with Play-Doh,” he muttered.
As he removed the clay out of its little wrapper, he realised it was not regular modelling clay. Almost yellow and with a greasy texture, it bent and moved like it had a life of its own. He spotted a piece of paper attached to the base of the wrapper and peeled it off.
It’s a sand polymer of sorts. No need to figure out what kind, just know that it’ll do exactly what you need it to do. Treat it with love. You’ll never run out. It’s self replicating. Pinch off only a little bit and make sure you place it back into the wrapper before leaving each day and you’ll save us from a blob attack. Flame what you have used to fix the form. I don’t need to tell you where the Bunsen burner is, do I?
-I’m too sweet, I know. Jo.
Smiling to himself, he did as instructed and pinched off a small part of the “polymer” and placed the rest back in the wrapper. He went back to his table and stared at his drawings. Attempting to re-produce what he had drawn with the polymer, he started to make the fixtures for the internal side of the cylindrical pay-load carrier.
How was he supposed to make it? He could not figure it out, so like a child, he shaped it into a ball and pressed his two thumbs right into it to make a hole. He then inserted his index finger into the hole and coiled his other hand around it. Feeling extremely proud of himself that it was all coming together, he pressed on, moulding, pinching, slicing and even adding touches of design to it.
“This polymer or whatever is a fucking riot,” he said with the jubilance of a seven year-old that had just been handed a lollypop.
Hootch whined in response. He dug around the drawers to find a Bunsen burner and placed it aside so he would have it ready – just in case The Blob lost its temper. In an instant he saw that it had almost doubled in size, and was looking very much like a rough version of the pay-load casing, minus fixtures and mounts.
He flicked on his goggles and flamed it, having the most fun he had ever experienced in weeks, or months, years maybe. As the polymer heated, it became completely translucent and hardened. It now looked like glass. He was almost sure it was the government’s best kept secret. Who would’ve thought he could make glass, all by his little self?
Flaming the edges to make sure everything had completely hardened; he noted which parts needed fixing and “fine-tuning”. Once done, he set it aside so it could cool and rummaged around for a marker pen. He began to mark the spots that needed fixing along with dimensional calculations.
“Boy, that actually looks like a pay-load carrier,” James said, which had James literally jumping off his stool. Was it possible that he was going deaf? He had not heard James come in either. “You’re working fast, brother. I didn’t expect an actual model before Fallon’s arrival. I thought he’d have to teach you how to do it. I’m impressed – really.”
“Shit, I’m impressed too. It does look good, huh? I always did love building things. I’ll make another one, right after I’ve figured out which parts need to fixed and readjusted. Should I make a fake pay-load as well? This is way too much fun.”
“Good to see you smiling, but sorry, you can’t work anymore today. You haven’t left that room in more than a day, haven’t you noticed? You’re beginning to look like Jesus. Go home, shit, shower and shave. Then sleep. You’ll be much more productive if you’re well rested, Mr Crazy Inventor. Jo’s really impressed and I have a feeling that I’ve made the right choice,” James replied.
“What? I’ve been here for more than 24 hours? Unbelievable. It felt like a couple of hours, three at most,” Jake said, puffing with pride. Thirty-two years and he’d never felt that he had accomplished anything. A small, glass model was enough to send him over the moon. “Yeah, I should go. You and Jo prolly want some quiet time.”
“You’re still an idiot, that much hasn’t changed,” James sighed as he walked out of the workshop. The silence of the house was broken by the sound of a blasting horn, probably coming from a truck outside the house. The three of them, followed by Hootch who was now barking excitedly came out of their respective workshops and gathered at the kitchen to see who or what was causing such a commotion.
As if he knew, Hootch started to wag his tail and ran towards the front door. They saw a huge U-Haul truck parked outside, with no driver in sight. Jo glanced over her perimeter scanner and saw that no human form had approached the Coroner’s Office.
“Fucking Fallon. Has to bring his grouchy ass to my doorstep at dinner time. I’m going to break his fat neck. I’m hungry again, dammit,” Jo cursed, with a look of pure disgust on her face.
Watching intently as Jo unlocked the front door and James grabbed his gun, a fancy looking Jericho 941 out of its holster, pointing it directly head-level at the front door in preparation. As the door swung open and the two smart ones moved aside, a tiny man with spectacles in a preppy looking sweater appeared in front of them.
“Nice moustache, Fallon. You’re one ugly mother fucker, you know that?” Jo said, irritated.
“Hey, I think it makes me look manly,” the tiny man with a mousy voice said. “Good job, James, you’re standing on the right side of the door with your back to the wall. I see you’ve been taking Sun Tzu’s advice by protecting your rear-right. Fantastic. Now move aside, I want to meet The Builder,” he squeaked, ominously.
“Oh, you’re still obsessed with warfare and Sun Tzu? You’re a fucking loser,” Jo said.
“You’re a fucking red-bottomed baboon, but I don’t love you any less. Where the fuck is The Builder?” he asked angrily. “And can I come the fuck in? Shall we build this thing out here? Where’s dinner, woman?”
“Wow. He really is not a pleasant person, now is he?” Jake asked, earning himself a dirty glare from the now angry, tiny man.
“Jake, the builder, meet Fallon the Melon Felon,” James said, trying to stifle a laugh.
“The Melon Felon?”
Expect to read Chapter 9 soon!
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