Teenage Mutant Ninja Torpedoes

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Teenage Mutant Ninja Torpedoes Page 11

by David J. Wighton

It's true that Izzy had some success with the teams assigned to use the stolen grenades to destroy the special antenna extensions on the tops of government buildings. But realistically, Zzyk's transmitters could be back up and running within an hour of the damage being discovered. August 6, 2083 was Izzy's worst ever operation and Yollie didn't go to the embarrassment of naming it. One could imagine Zzyk chortling happily at seeing her failed attempts – if chortling was a skill that stemmed from snickering. By mid-August, the DPS brain-band installation goons had finished with the cities, and by the end of August, the rural areas were complete as well.

  # # # # # # # #

  August was not a particularly good month for Izzy for other reasons too. The Will and Izzy craze was spinning out of control. Her family tried to protect her from this as best as they could.

  Hank and Winnie took care of the tour guides that congregated at the edge of the defensive barrier and sent excited tourists into the protected area. At their worst, six to eight tours could come by in a day; at times, three groups of tourists might be sitting in one clearing waiting their turn to enter the Wilizy's protected land. Tours were staying longer now because some guides encouraged those that were brave enough to see how far they could walk into the defensive zone before a red light would start to blink rapidly. Hank saw this and knew it would only be a matter of time before some fool went too far.

  Will's electronic defenses made sure that people couldn't enter the secure zone; the defenses didn't respond when people or animals decided to leave the secure zone. To their horror, tour guides learned that a mad wolf in the area would charge anyone carrying an umbrella and they quickly removed that particular visit from their brochures.

  Doc and Theo were successful in removing all references on the WZBN website to personal appearances by Will and Izzy, and generally, the boards were clean. Anything that got by TG's new cleansing software was quickly erased by Theo who considered it his role in life to protect Izzy. What they couldn't do was control the Will and Izzy boards that appeared elsewhere on the Internet and those proliferated rapidly.

  # # # # # # # #

  If Izzy was hurting, Zzyk was not. He had his new brain-bands that would allow him to control any behaviour he wanted to. Specks of colour were gone. Random tests of the new brain-bands produced violent shaking. Life was good again. But there was that tiny nagging doubt. In the past, Izzy had pretended to be defeated; only she wasn't. Zzyk sent a personal e-mail to Igor, his technical systems chief, complimenting him for his success in upgrading the IOF's security system. But in case sensitive buildings had been penetrated in the first week of August, Zzyk ordered Igor to replace all the major software programs in the IOF's computers with the backup data for August 5, the day before the Wilizy's attacks.

  Back to the Table of Contents

  Chapter 19

  From Wizard's journals: Wednesday, July 10.

  With peach season coming up, I thought I should visit Boss in Chicago. He had made a deal that he'd give us more cartons of pellets if I came back and helped him improve his crop. Since I knew nothing at all about growing peaches, I sought help from Momaka. Talking about peach trees reminded me that I was going to ask her about Mom's shade trees that were doing quite well now.

  "It's a theobroma," she observed from my picture. "Best grown in tropical conditions and under larger shade trees that will protect it from wind and sun. Where'd you find this?"

  "In my mom's garden." I had to be careful here, because Momaka didn't know about our pirate activities. "It was part of a shipment that we received; included by accident, we think."

  "It takes up to five years to bear fruit. I can't see it doing well in Alberta. It's hot enough but not humid at all. You'll find out in five years, I suppose."

  "What's it called in real words?" I asked.

  "A cocoa tree. Its beans are used to make chocolate."

  Interesting.

  # # # # # # # #

  I was planning to take Lucas with me to Chicago because Boss was used to seeing him. Lucas and Dad were talking again, so I thought I could trust him. Lucas was bored at home now that we had taken the firewood wagons through the Okanagan; he gets a little antsy if he doesn't have something to do, so I thought he might enjoy the trip.

  My plans for the trip changed after I talked with Will. He still wanted the Chicago pellets that Boss was going to give us, but he said that he also wanted all of the Wilizy ships at home when we went to war. The Wilizy/Europe was anchored over the Irish Sea. If a team could pick it up, they could stop at Chicago on the way home and they could tow the pellets underneath the ship like we had done before.

  The Wilizy/Asia was anchored over the Japanese Sea. I was going to Asia anyway, so I could bring the Wilizy/Asia back with me. But I didn't have the time to go all the way to Ireland and then fly that ship home. I talked to Dad about it. In the end, Dad gave Lucas and Theo the chance to go to Europe alone and bring the ship back to Chicago where they'd wait for me. They could play tourist anywhere they wanted to in Europe/Britain, but only for two days.

  Dad also said that Mathias and Reese could go to Japan with me to help bring back the Wilizy/Asia. I would pick up the sewing machines that I had been looking at and Mathias and Reese could go to the Japanese toy store and choose some toys for themselves out of Wilizy money. I had wanted to bring back more toys after the success of our harmonicas, so this way the boys would choose what they thought would be popular and we'd try them out. On the way home, I was to give them control of the ship. If they proved themselves responsible in crossing the Pacific, they were allowed to bring it all the way home while I left the ship early and flew to Chicago.

  It all worked out fine. I negotiated a good price on the sewing machines and so ordered a large number. These were pedal-operated machines that would allow the women sewing clothes to greatly increase their production. We were meeting the demand from the tourists, but I could see that we'd do much better if we could start exporting the clothes that they were making to B.C. rather than waiting for tourists to come here.

  The basic business model was like this. I'd give the sewing machines to the women on a lease-to-own basis. They'd pay a small monthly fee for a couple of months and then they'd own the machine. I wasn't out to make money on the machines, only to recover my costs. I did plan to sell them the needles, thread, cloth and dye though. All at a preferred rate since they'd be Wilizy suppliers. Once a month, the Wilizy Cloth and Dye Company would collect any clothing that the sewers wanted me to ship to British Columbia. I'd negotiate a price with some big retailers down there and all of the proceeds would go to the women. I was confident the storeowners would be interested. Our clothing was going to be far less expensive to buy than what they were currently buying.

  This plan also required us to stop giving our cloth away to anyone who wanted it. Instead we'd ask for a small cash or barter amount. We had supplied everything for free so that Albertans could make some decent clothes for themselves. That appears to have worked and the people we saw in the gardens were no longer wearing patched hand-me-downs. I had thought that Zzyk's beatings would slow our distributions of dyes, but they didn't. People were still making and bartering bright coloured clothes but they were wearing them under their clothes. DPS goons walked by the barter blankets all the time. They knew what was going on, but chose to ignore it.

  # # # # # # # #

  We've expanded the WC&D tables at the front of the properties to include Dreamer's pillows. They aren't selling well because there's still not a lot of cash flowing around yet. But people do pick them up and hold them to their cheek before putting them down again. I can see that they want them, but can't afford them yet. Dreamer gives me a progress report once a week on the mill's production, and I've told her that this isn't necessary, but she seems keen to keep me informed. I told her about the pillows being desirable. She may consider hiring seamstresses to sew coloured pillowcases at some point. We talked about that a bit but I don't know if she'll do it or
not.

  The construction at the bottom of the grassy slopes is now completed. We're calling this area of our land the Wilizy Bowl because it does look a lot like a bowl. We have the grassy slopes around three sides, and a flat bit at the bottom and then a big stage made from Dreamer's lumber and plywood. Steps lead up to the stage from both sides and there's plenty of room for large singing groups, that's for sure. Wooden panels at the back of the stage curve around to the sides of the stage. Additional panels above the stage are attached to the top of the walls and they serve as a roof to keep the stage dry. It's sort of like an open room. Momaka told me that the walls and roof are placed just right to magnify people's voices. The construction volunteers had a fun time standing on the stage and making their voices echo in the clearing.

  Doc's singing and harmonica contests are going to be held in the Wilizy Bowls. He has received a lot of interest in all the cities. He had enough contestants for two full mornings and afternoons of competition in Calgary and Edmonton. Then, because of the high interest, Doc said that they'd have the top ten groups compete in a final contest that will be held at night. To give people a chance to see the groups perform, Winnie has arranged to borrow two of Dreamer's big light standards. Momaka is going to introduce the groups around the province. The judges were taken from our volunteers – a sort of thank you for their efforts. Admission to the daytime contests will be free. For the evening show that will be held under the stars, admission will be one barter item with all of them going to the peddler wagons so that they can help the people in the rural areas. Dad said that he didn't see any purpose in trying to hide the Wilizy connection to the peddler wagons any further. Everybody knew.

  Winnie has been bugging me to invite Dreamer to the evening contest in Edmonton. She says that I should find ways to thank our suppliers when they do good work for us. Since I'm in charge of our business, and since we only have the one supplier, it would be easy for me to do. I wasn't sure about that. I figured I should get a second opinion.

  Mom told me that successful businessmen in the ancient times were always finding ways to express gratitude to the suppliers who did excellent work for them. "A good supplier makes the business look good. A lazy supplier does the opposite. You should always work hard to keep your supplier happy and what better way than showing appreciation."

  "But how would she get to Edmonton?" I asked. "And it's going to be too late for her to go back that night. Where would she stay? Would I have to sit next to her? What would I say to her?" I didn't see this happening at all. I figured that Dreamer would turn me down flat, actually.

  "Well, first Dreamer has to accept the invitation. After that, we'd have to see. And if she did come, yes, you would have to sit next to her. You're her host; she's your guest. You need to be polite. You'll be listening to people singing most of the night, so you don't have to say much. Afterwards, you could always talk with her about the board feet production her mills are putting out each day, I suppose."

  "But we've already talked about that Mom."

  "I was kidding."

  I didn't understand the joke. I figured I should get a third opinion. I was hoping to find somebody who would say it was a stupid idea. Will wouldn't let me down.

  Back to the Table of Contents

  Chapter 20

  In mid-August, Will was down at Stanford with Winnie while Wolf and TG were in Hawaii. Will had asked TG to have a long look through the ammo factory's computer. Was there a schedule of regular shipments to The Citadel? What was ordered? How much of each item? Could the computer that held those orders be hacked?

  Will also wanted to know if computer software controlled the equipment that manufactured the bubblegums and their shells. Could that software be hacked? A couple of hours after Wolf had arrived in Hawaii, Will mind-messaged him. Can you steal a lot of those lead sheets without anyone noticing? Bring to Stanford?

  Will's preliminary analysis of the shells suggested the ammo was an electronic grenade as he had thought. The presence of the lead sheets on the factory floor bothered him. Were they really lead? If so, why were they in the same area of the factory as the shells? Safety reasons? He'd run some tests soon but not when Winnie might walk in accidentally. Right now, she was in the biology lab working on some bones. Patella was also working on some bones. Rabbit bones.

  Wolf arrived a couple of hours later with fifty lead sheets in a filament pallet. "They keep no inventory of these sheets," he said. "Stuff is just lying around. TG says to tell you that the answers to all your questions are Yes. He now owns all of the computers in that complex and can access them without having to enter the factory. He sifted through the orders from The Citadel and can give you an analysis when you want it. Why'd you want the lead sheets?"

  "They might be useful in our attack on the carrier. I need to do more tests first. But the main reason I wanted them so quickly was because I think these bubbles should be stored properly. They're carrying a lot of potential electrical charge inside of them and we've been carrying them around loose; storing them inside a lead container could be prudent."

  # # # # # # # #

  While Wolf was busy back at the compound reviewing surveillance data on Prudhoe and Anchorage, Will was running test after test in Stanford.

  •Yes, the electronic grenade would demolish a sling. A single bubble hitting a sling could cause a warrior to fall out of the sky. As they already knew however, they had no effect on titanium. Could he build titanium armour for every warrior? Yes. But, could they use their weaponry through the armour? Doubtful.

  • Yes, the bubbles could be shot from the same Alaska gun as what fired the traditional ammo. That was because the bubbles needed the rifling inside the gun to get the bubbles spinning as they emerged. The spinning activated the charging mechanism.

  • Without the spin, the bubbles were harmless.

  • Bubble storage was problematic. If one bubble began to roll, and caused other bubbles to roll, they would enter into a charged state. One bubble exploding could cause other charged bubbles to explode. Alaska's light planes could indeed become flying coffins.

  Will spent an hour using one of Stanford's laser machines to cut the sheets of lead into small sizes. He did this knowing that small amounts of lead could be formed into different shapes reasonably easily. Lead could also be joined to other lead shapes by melting the edges until the lead became liquid that formed into a tight connection once it cooled. He looked at the squares he now had and calculated that he had enough pieces of lead.

  By now, Winnie was in the lab poking around. "I found some more interesting books," she said.

  "Did you sign them out?"

  "Nah. I'll remember what I read. Are we going back now or do we stay over?"

  "Gotta get back. I'm pressed for time. But first, I'm going to make you a helmet. I want to see if it stops your headaches. It may look funny on you, but I want you to try wearing it for a while, OK?"

  Half an hour later, Winnie was wearing a solid helmet of titanium. It fit loosely on top of her head and other than a narrow slit at eye level, it covered every millimeter of her skull.

  "This makes me look like the top of one of those submarine torpedoes," she said after looking in a mirror.

  "Sorry. You only have to wear it a couple of times and only when a lot of people are making noise around you. Then, tell me if it stops your headaches."

  "Can I wear it outside?"

  "Sure. Why?"

  "The boys are going to be so jealous. I'll look like a speeding bullet. Bet'cha they'd pay a lot of chocolate bars to take a turn."

  Winnie was spending far too much time with Wizard.

  # # # # # # # #

  Wolf was insistent that he would not do any time travel research into Mac's life. He didn't even want to know what Will found unless it was vital. He did agree to get information on her father and on Sven so long as it didn't reveal personal parts of Mac's life. Will started his time travel research when Mac was a toddler because h
e figured the family was trouble free at at that point. From there, he skipped quickly through Mac's life, looking for an event that would have left a lasting mark on the family.

  Everything seemed normal in Mac's youngster years. Her mother, Emily, was a piano and singing teacher and passed on her skills to her daughter. Mac appeared to enjoy playing the piano and singing, and spent many hours in practice. By the age of 10, she was as skilled as her mother and might have tried some piano teaching of her own, had it not been for her other interest in the military. The piano was the family's meeting place every evening. Her dad had rudimentary piano skills, and apart from pounding out some military marches, he was content to listen. When she was very young, Mac would march around the living room to her dad's marches, and when he had pounded the last note home on the piano, she would stand at attention and salute her dad. He would salute her back. He called her Soldier, and she called him General.

  While Mac's marches around the living room passed into memories soon afterwards, their practice of referring to each other in military speak did not change. Will never found a single incident of Mac calling her father Dad or an equivalent. The general never called her Barbara, a name he had opposed from the outset because it was the name of his sister-in-law who thought military men were stupid brutes. When Mac found out that her father didn't like the name, she objected to it as well. If her mother ever used it, she'd hiss at her. Eventually her mother called her Mac like everyone else in the army community did.

  The base's school was small and undemanding. The general saw that Soldier was not learning much, but he didn't want to pull rank and remove the teacher. She was doing as well as she could. So he augmented Soldier's classroom instruction by teaching her himself. The general had risen rapidly in the ranks because of his intelligence. He had the ability to master copious amounts of data, to organize things mentally, and to see strengths and weaknesses in military matters that nobody else could see. He used military books to teach Soldier how to read. Instruction in other subjects such as math and science went only as far as was needed to calculate shell trajectories, and the desired mixtures of chemicals to make destructive explosions, for example. History studies revolved around military history. Soldier grew up with massive holes in her education, but in military matters, she had a graduate degree.

 

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