"If the Union has fallen, then Earth is doomed. It would be more than a bummer, Marty," Brick replied.
"For sure. I was more mourning the loss of all the space babes," Marty replied.
"What are you guys talking about?" Metra said, her voice blaring out of the phone's speaker.
"Hey Metra, good to hear your voice," I jumped in. "We were talking about space babes. Don't ask. What's going on?"
"I just finished my latest design cycle and came up for air. Brick told me you guys were talking and patched me in."
"Great timing, Brick," I said.
"You're quite welcome, Jake."
"Anyway, how's the ship design coming?"
"Completed, finally. Since we don't have the resources to bring one of the larger Manufactories or the Shipyard back online, I'm doing a large scale version of what you did with that ridiculous contraption you built. What did you call it, again?"
"The Batteries Not Included," I supplied. "You never forget your first ship."
"You couldn't possibly call that a ship. Anyway, it's taken far longer than I like, but I've designed and queued up every one of the ship's components. As they're completed, Brick's bots are pulling them out of the Manufactor and taking them to the hangar for final assembly."
"I don't get it," Marty said, looking at me and back to the phone. "You're making a ship out of parts? Shouldn't you be using robots to build it in space, or whatever?"
"In better times we'd be doing just that, or something similar. All we've got is this Light Manufactory, though. Every part has to fit in the cubic meter space. It's making everything a huge pain in my balls."
"Uh, Metra, that idiom doesn't really work for you," I said.
"You say that all the time. Whatever. Your language is stupid."
"How long until the ship is done?" I asked, happy to change the subject.
"Five more days of part manufacture, and then I estimate seventeen hours of assembly time. After that, I'll need to test everything. Let's say seven days."
"Wow, a week to build a spaceship?" Marty exclaimed.
"We could have built this in a day with the proper tools," Metra complained.
"And we don't have them, Metra. You're brilliant, to make this work."
There was silence on the phone for a moment. "Thank you."
"What kind of spaceship are you building, Metra?" Marty asked.
"Just about the most basic runabout I can come up with. It's got room for me, my drones, and a bit of cargo. It'll get me to the satellite stations and maybe that transport ship Brick offlined if it's still there."
I used the lever on my seat to lean back a bit, feeling comfy in the warmth of the truck. Now that I wasn't driving and we were safe for the moment, I was feeling relaxed.
"Has it got any weapons? Like phasers or something?" Marty asked.
"Phasers? What are those?"
I missed the rest of the conversation as my brain shut down and sleep claimed me.
Chapter Eighteen: Into the Wilderness
MY EYES OPENED A MOMENT later, the sound of Marty's light snoring filling the cab. The truck was still running, down to 1/8th of a tank. The eastern sky was just lightening as the winter sun thought about rising.
My phone was on the dash in front of me. I picked it up and checked the time—8:31 am. I had slept much longer than I thought I would. I guess nearly a week of no sleep plus getting brained with a bat takes it out of a guy.
I shook Marty's shoulder gently. "Marty, it's time for us to get going."
He started awake, wincing as he held his side. "I'm awake."
"The sun's about to rise, get yourself ready if you're coming with me."
"Damn right I'm coming with you," he said and rubbed his face.
I turned off the truck and stepped outside, closing the door behind me. We'd be leaving the truck here for who knows how long. It didn't feel right to leave all the gasoline in the bed. I unstrapped a line of jerry cans and extracted the first one.
Five cans later, the truck was full. I unfolded a blue tarp and covered the gas cans. If someone was nosing around the truck, that wouldn't stop them from seeing the gasoline, but it felt better than doing nothing. With luck, the truck would be undisturbed while we were gone.
Marty stepped out of the truck wearing the cold-weather gear we'd purchased from Theo. It was military surplus, but looked quite warm. He had heavy gloves and a thick parka with a hood. He pulled a khaki backpack out of the back seat and strapped it on.
"Hey, Jake, I know you've got the pistol and the needler, but aren't there a lot of bears up here?" he asked.
I hadn't actually thought about it. I had to assume there were; they were everywhere. Were we far enough north to see polar bears? I didn't think so.
"Yeah, I guess there will be," I replied. Bears didn't seem like a real threat compared to Cutter Drones and the other Feral horrors I'd cleared out of the station. The GN-75 would make short work of any animal stupid enough to attack us.
"Can I have one of the guns, then?"
I pulled the holster free of my belt and then pulled the pistol free and held it up.
"You know how to use this, right? It's basically a Glock."
"Yeah, I've shot my uncle's."
"Great," I said, and handed him the pistol. He partially racked the slide, and when he saw the chamber was empty he nodded and released it. He dropped the magazine and checked that it was full before replacing it.
"Can I have the holster, too?"
"Sorry, man, won't work for you. No Interface."
"That's getting really annoying. Fine," Marty said, and found a pocket big enough to slide the gun into in his parka.
I pulled my bags out of the back of the truck one by one and strapped them on, trying to get them positioned so they wouldn't be in my way if I needed to climb or fight.
