“She might be our best bet. She does better than just about anybody when it comes to explanations.”
“You mind giving her a call?”
Dingus said, “See there, Lakki? There are things the Captain is afraid of.”
Lakki replied, “I’ve met Mrs. Sloan. He is a wise man.”
John laughed, “She’s gonna fit right in.”
When Dingus made his call, we could hear gunfire in the background. I whispered, “Oh no, we’ve interrupted her range time.” They talked for a little bit, and Dingus said, “See you soon, then. Thanks.” He turned to us and said, “She’s coming. They were almost done at the range, anyway, or you would have been out of luck, Bob.”
I asked, “Did she and Grandma Cachi ever decide who was the better shot?”
Dingus replied, “I learned to quit asking. I don’t think they did, though.”
John asked, “Touchy subject?”
“Kinda. Dee isn’t used to being outshot by anybody. I’m the only one she makes an exception for.”
The transit opened, with Dee and Grandma Cachi striding out. Grandma said, “Captain, we’re never going to find the weak spots in that new pistol of yours, if you keep interrupting us.”
“Begging your pardon, Ma’am, but I was in need of Dee’s special skills.”
“You have seen Dingus shoot, haven’t you?”
“Not those skills. I need her to explain something to someone.”
Dee asked, “What, and to whom?”
Dingus said, “There’s a fella in interrogation who’s having a hard time accepting that his military career is over. Even if we take him back to Oak, his superiors won’t trust him, after he spent time with us.”
Dee said, “I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise you anything, though.”
I replied, “Good enough.”
Grandma asked, “Mind if I tag along?”
Dee said, “Not at all. Maybe you could come up with some good ideas.”
They headed into the interview room. I said, “I almost feel sorry for him.”
Dingus replied, “You haven’t seen them when they start playing off one another. There’s no ‘almost’ to it. He’s had it.”
Lakki said, “Will they hurt him?”
Dingus said, “Only his pride.”
Lakki went into the observation room to watch. I said, “Unless you need me for something, Dingus, I’m going to get out of your way.”
“Can’t think of a thing, Boss. If something comes up, I’ll give you a call.”
John said, “I think I’ll head out, too.”
We grabbed a transit. John asked, “Where are you headed, Bob?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really have anywhere to be till Nikki gets out of the autodoc.”
“If I were you, I’d go to the range, while you’re sure it’s not busy. You ought to put a few rounds through that new pistol, before they wear it out.”
“That sounds like a good idea. You want to come along?”
“Probably should. I haven’t been getting much practice lately, either.”
When we got there, Nunya said, “I just finished cleaning your pistol, Boss. I’ll bring it out.”
I asked, “Do they have you doing their cleaning for them?”
“No. I just did it this time because they got called away.”
“Good. You’re not supposed to be their flunky.”
She asked, “Boss, what was it they had to go do?”
“Talk to a fella about his future, and how he wants to spend it.”
“You trying to hire somebody, Boss?”
“I don’t think so. He didn’t seem like he would be happy working for this outfit.”
John said, “The Captain tried his best to get through to him, but he just wasn’t listening. I hope they have better luck.”
Nunya replied, “If those two hardheads can’t get through to him, he’s a lost cause.”
John picked up my new pistol. He dropped the magazine, checked the chamber, and asked, “How does it work?”
I pointed to the solid part of the magazine. “This part here holds the energy to push the bullets down the barrel.”
“You mean, like a battery?”
“It gives up its power too quick to be a battery. Must be a supercapacitor, or a superconducting coil, or something else I don’t even know enough to know exists.”
We both looked at Nunya. She said, “Don’t look at me, fellas. I got to the place where I needed a power source for the thing, and asked Scotti. She showed me this file on the server, and I printed it out. She never said anything about what technology it uses.”
John loaded it up. “Do we need ear protection?”
I replied, “Nope. It’s quiet.” He put a mag full downrange. “This is nice. Almost no recoil. You copy that from the Squirrels?”
Nunya said, “Nossir. After I built the first prototype, it seemed a little snappy, so I went looking for ways to cut down the recoil. I found a system they use on high-end target air pistols, and adapted it.”
“It’s good work. I like it a lot.”
I asked, “How is it holding up to the accelerated wear program the Grannies are putting it through?”
Nunya said, “I tore it down at ten thousand rounds, and tried to find anything that looked iffy. The whole thing passed with flying colors.”
I replied, “They’ve put ten thousand rounds through it, already?”
“I might have helped, a little.”
“Good for you. They need a little competition.”
“I could never be competition for those two. Most of a week down here, and neither one of them has missed yet. They’re not quite as fast as Mr. Sloan, but I wouldn’t want either one of them mad at me.” We had a good time, but with just the one pistol, there was a lot of waiting. John convinced Nunya to bring out her prototype, and we tried that. She was right, it was pretty snappy, for such a small pistol. Finally, John asked, “Do you suppose I could get one like this? It’s an awfully nice weapon.”
I said, “Why don’t you print
