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CHAPTER 21

After he was done with lunch Jason cleared the table and held up his hand.

“Drone,” Jason said.

The drone obediently landed and Jason examined it carefully. It was, in reality, a central controller, four electric motors and a bunch of flexmet. The motors had a small blob of flexmet on the ends, the “rotors” that retracted automatically on landing.

“How do I remove one of these motors?” Jason asked. “If, for example, it got damaged by a vulture?”

“Just take hold of the motor in one hand and the flex in the other and think about removing it,” Jewel said.

The motor removed easily, leaving the blob of flex for the rotors on the end. Jason removed that and revealed a small shaft of metal with six tines to hold the flexmet in place when rotating.

The motor had four small insets that had held flexmet before removing it.

“How is this controlled?” Jason asked.

“Flexmet has to be inserted into opening four,” Jewel said. “Between you and I we can control it.”

Jason determined which was opening four and inserted a strand of flexmet. After fumbling a bit, he got it to turn on, run, speed up and slow down by thought.

“Okay,” Jason said, getting up and retrieving a piece of wood. He attached a length of flexmet to the propeller shaft and formed it into a Dremel head. Then he took the motor and carved the wood very slightly.

“Now I see where you’re going with this,” Jewel said humorously.

“Is there a big store of woodworking tools on the station?” Jason asked.

“Very little,” Jewel said. “But Dremel tools are widely available.”

“I think it’s more useful than a Dremel,” Jason said. “Any idea what sort of torque these things have?”

“Light,” Jewel said. “They’re designed for RPM, not torque.”

Jason got a more-or-less straight branch from the kindling then set up a couple of arms of flex, coupled by a flexmet base, with the motor embedded on one side.

“I need this straight and level,” Jason said. He’d figured out he could put two pieces of flexmet, one inside the other, that would spin. By attaching the branch at one end to the motor and the other to the spindle, he had . . . 

“Congratulations,” Jewel said, again humorously. “You’ve successfully constructed a rudimentary lathe. Now we just need a rock monster for you to fight.”

“It works,” Jason said, starting the lathe and using a bit of flex to carve into the branch, taking off the bark first.

In twenty minutes, Jason had figured out a better lathe system, a drill press and a milling system all using flex and the drone motor.

“It might not have much torque, but you can work with it,” Jason said.

“You’re going to need a bunch of wood,” Jewel pointed out.

“Where are we ever going to find wood?” Jason asked.

“They’re going to have to be cut down to size,” Jewel said. “The drones can cut off chunks and they can be ground down . . . ”

“You’re thinking too small,” Jason said. “I’m going to need a large, flat platform. Do we have any big tree stumps? Herman, a big log and a bunch of flex . . . ”

* * *

It also took two large trunks embedded in holes. First, they laid a large tree trunk on the leveled tree stump, with flex to either side to keep it from rolling off. Then they attached flex at one end to the embedded trunks and the other to the horizontal trunk. Last a thin strand of flex was mounted in front of the horizontal trunk.

“And slice,” Jason said, mentally commanding the distant flex to retract and the nearer to extend.

The thin strand of flex that was supposed to slice off a plank parted with an audible “twang!”

“Fork,” Jason said. “It usually cuts right through wood. What’s wrong?”

“Calculating,” Jewel said. “This is a . . . Oh.”

“A what ‘oh’?” Jason asked.

“Harmonics,” Jewel answered.

“The drones are imparting harmonics to the flex,” Jason said, nodding. “Like a vibroknife.”

“Even when you swing it, there’s a slight harmonic vibration,” Jewel said. “You’re essentially sawing at the nanolevel. We need to introduce a harmonic to it.”

“Can we do that with flex or do we need a drone connected somehow?” Jason asked. “Do you need to go on the net and find a back massager?”

“Let me see what I can do with the flex,” Jewel said distractedly.

With a little bit of work, flex could be made to vibrate.

Jason held up a piece of flexmet that looked a bit like a short tree branch as it vibrated. He increased and decreased the speed by thought.

“This stuff is going to eliminate so many industries,” he said, shaking his head.

“What would you use a vibrating tree branch for?” Jewel asked.

“You are either programmed to be naïve or joking,” Jason said. “Back massager?”

He formed the vibrating flex around his hand and rubbed his back.

“See?” he said. “Like old time barber massagers.”

“Long-term use like that can cause nerve damage,” Jewel said.

“I’m not planning on using it much,” Jason said, stopping the vibration and returning the flex to his bracelet. “But it might come in handy if some lady needs a backrub.”

He thought about the AI’s odd response then shook his head.

“Back to creating a field sawmill . . . ”

With the addition of a harmonic, the first plank of oak slid off in seconds.

“We just hit the end of my expertise,” Jason said. “I’m going to have to think about this. Register a new company: Withywindle Fine Woods and Furnishings. Then see if you can find . . . Todd Kranhouse.”

“Your old boss, Todd Kranhouse?” Jewel asked.

“We parted on good terms,” Jason said. “And I’ve never met anyone better with wood. God knows I wasn’t. Was not my gift.”

* * *

“Jason?”

“Mr. Kranhouse,” Jason said. “How are you doing?”

“Good, Jason, good, you?”

Prior to the Transfer, Todd Kranhouse had owned Kranhouse Milling, a company that did specialty milling mostly for the construction industry. The man had grown up with wood milling and even with most work moving overseas had managed to hang on by producing better quality than anyone else in the business.

Jason had tried but could not meet his exacting standards. And being covered in sawdust was not Jason’s idea of a way to spend your life, anyway. They’d parted by mutual agreement on good terms.

“I’m doing great,” Jason admitted. “I started a food company that’s taking the station by storm, Brandywine Foods.”

“I’ve heard of that,” Kranhouse said. “Even procured some of your comestibles. Had no idea that crocodile could taste so fair. Nor that you were involved.”

Kranhouse was so Yankee it was almost an affectation. Pure old-fashioned New England.

“Compared to print food?” Jason said. “Anything’s good compared to that. Are you back in business?”

“I am not, sadly,” Kranhouse said. “The wood on that planet looks to be the finest in centuries, and here I am selling off the contents of my house.”

“Hope you haven’t sold your woodworking equipment,” Jason said.

“That would be the last to go,” Kranhouse replied.

“My company has a need for a major milling order,” Jason said. “We’re building an event space and we’d prefer it not be simple flexmet or flexscreen. I pitched wood and leather. And the best guy I know with wood is you.”

“To get any contract would be nice,” Kranhouse replied. “The problem being there’s no milling equipment save for my personal equipment. Nor any wood, save that on the planet.”

“What if I told you, you can do almost all of it with flexmet?” Jason said. “What you can’t do with flexmet, you can use either your personal tools plus flex or a drone motor?”

“I would . . . wonder if you have been partaking of drink,” Kranhouse replied.

“If I bring in the investment, intellectual property and initial contract, would you consider a partnership?” Jason asked. “I would be, I promise, the extremely silent partner. But I’ve got some credit and there are, actually, a billion ways to use flex for woodworking. Jewel, bring the drone around and show Mr. Kranhouse that we can cut planks fine as silk.”

Another plank was cut off and the drone dropped down for a close-up of the grain of the wood.

“That is beautiful, beautiful oak,” Kranhouse said, his tone the longing of a true craftsman. “How does that saw work?”

“Flexmet,” Jason said. “It has a billion and one uses.”

“That’s so smooth,” Kranhouse said. “Much smoother than you get from a regular mill. It would still require sanding but not much. How thin can you slice it?”

“Not sure,” Jason said. “Jewel, thin to win.”

The “plank” that was sliced off the next time was so thin you could practically see through it.

“Amazing,” Kranhouse said. “Can you do that on the station?”

“If we get the wood up there,” Jason said as it began to rain again. “And if we can effectively dry it. It’s all green.”

“That is an issue,” Kranhouse said. “Less so with heartwood. Not so much water in heartwood.”

“You could space dry,” Jewel said. “Vacuum will draw out the water fast.”

“Is not space cold, young lady?” Kranhouse asked. “It would cause the wood to crack and shatter.”

“That’s my AI,” Jason pointed out.

“They seem rather human, Jason,” Kranhouse replied. “No reason not to be polite. The point remains.”

“Put it in a stasis container,” Jewel said. “Open up to reduce the internal pressure then close. You can set the container inside in the warmth. It will draw out the water faster. Once humidity has increased, flush the air, send it back out. Repeat. Alternative is oven drying.”

“Where are we going to get an oven?” Jason asked.

“All of the compartments have heating and cooling,” Jewel said. “You’d have to get a safety variance for the compartment temperature, but you can just put it in a compartment like the warehouse and heat it up to whatever temperature Mr. Kranhouse considers appropriate. If the wood is already cut into planks, it will dry faster. The hot air can be recycled to remove humidity. The water then goes to the water processing system on the station. If that works for you, Mr. Kranhouse?”

“That could work,” Kranhouse said. “Worth a try. Question is costs. You said you had a bit of credit you’d invest, Jason?”

“I would, sir,” Jason said, wincing at the pun. “And easy terms to let you buy it back. I know you prefer to own your own company.”

“I had investors before, Jason,” Kranhouse said with a bit of a chuckle. “It’s rare a person owns a company outright. But I do appreciate the offer.”

“Would you consider a name?” Jason said. “I mean, Kranhouse Milling was a known name but . . . ”

“What name did you consider?” Kranhouse asked.

“Withywindle Fine Woods and Furnishings,” Jason said. “I’m going to also have to figure out how to do leather. And we’ll need leather seating. How I’m going to do that is still up in the air but . . . ”

“Withywindle?” Kranhouse asked. “I seem to recall that name . . . ?”

“It’s from a fantasy novel,” Jason said.

“Think I’ve never read it?” Kranhouse said, chuckling again. “That was all the rage in my day. I can accept that name. But are you sure you have sufficient credit to invest?”

“No,” Jason said. “I’d have to refer you to my accountant. But we need the milling for the event space. Do you mind if I send you to my accountant on this?”

“Not a bit,” Kranhouse said. “I do recall you were always shy on the subject of money.”

“Thirty-five, sixty-five work?” Jason asked. “Again, Jewel will ensure the terms make buyback easy.”

“That is standard,” Kranhouse replied. “Acceptable. To be clear, I agree to engage in a partnership with you on those terms, assuming the capital is available and there are no other codicils that are a deal breaker.”

“Jewel, introduce Mr. Kranhouse to Gil,” Jason said. “Explain to Gil the necessity for a good woodworker. Turn over all developed IP and any more I develop to Withywindle. There may not be much more work at first but I’ll be keeping an eye out.”

“As will I,” Kranhouse said.

“If that’s all good for you, Mister Kranhouse, I have other projects I have to get back to,” Jason said.

“That all appears to work,” Kranhouse said. “I’ll have to check the details of the partnership contract. But I would like to get back to work. I’ve missed wood.”

“Then I’ll bid you a fond farewell,” Jason said formally.

“Until we meet again,” Kranhouse said. “And, Jason, feel free to call me Todd.”

“I’ll try, sir,” Jason said. “Out here.”

* * *

By the end of the afternoon, Jason had figured out a dozen ways to work with the one oak trunk he was slowly reducing.

They’d cut boards thick and thin as well as posts, had determined a way to make drills using the drone motors, lathed pegs and used the combination to peg things together, crosscuts, edge cuts, milled edges and most other things he recalled from his brief job working in a wood-milling shop.

“From this can Mr. Kranhouse’s AI figure the rest out?” Jason asked. It was raining again and he was ready to get into the hooch, prop his feet up in front of the fire and settle in for the night.

“Given that, according to Miss Katherine, he’s been talking nonstop about wood since he got here,” Jewel replied, “probably so.”

“He can be a tad obsessive,” Jason said. “But he was the best because he was obsessive.”

“She’s eternally grateful he’s going to get wood to work with again,” Jewel said. “He’s been driving her nuts.”

“How’s the negotiations with Gil going?” Jason asked.

“It was mostly handled by the AIs,” Jewel admitted. “But Gil agreed and Withywindle Fine Wood and Furnishings is now set up as a real entity. Mr. Kranhouse is already looking for a compartment. It’s going to require two, one for drying, one for working. But it’s doable. There’s a compartment not far from Brandywine that’s probably useable.”

“That’s the wood figured out,” Jason said. “Now for leather, about which I know exactly nothing.”

“Already handled,” Jewel said. “Because I saw nothing in your background about preparing leather, I tossed it to Duncan who tossed it to one of the ground R&D teams. They’re working on old-fashioned methods of tanning, lye from ash, tannin from oak, mixed with bots and flexmet. It will have to be buffalo hide; they’re in Chindia. But buffalo hide is a good leather and Ghu knows we have enough of it. When they get it working, they’re going to move on to seeing if they can prepare crocodile skins as well. We’ve got a ton of those in storage. Probably not the look for Brandywine but as Sheila pointed out . . . ”

“It’ll make a ton of pumps,” Jason said, walking into the housing container. The fire had been fed while he was away and with most of the container buttoned up it was warm and cozy. He hadn’t realized how cold he’d gotten standing in the rain until he came inside.

“As time permits, get Herman and the Alfreds lifting various types of tree trunks into conexes. Give Mr. Kranhouse a variety of wood to work with. It can be sliced as he sees fit on the station then dried. Send at least one trunk of every kind of wood in the lease.”

He took off his hat and formed a series of pegs to hold it and his rain gear.

“Does that include small trees?” Jewel said.

“Check with Kranhouse on species,” Jason said. “But I want him to at least have oak, ash, birch, beech, hickory, that sort of thing. As well as some coniferous. But ask him in general.”

“Will do,” Jewel said. “Who’s paying for the lift? Brandywine or Withywindle?”

“It’ll have to be Withywindle,” Jason said. With his outer gear off, he sat down and took off his boots. Then he padded over to the personal locker and removed a set of fleece-lined slippers. With his wet socks off and slippers on, he ambled over to the fire and propped up his feet. “Send a note to Tim. Need to load at least one conex full of wood on the next lift. Withywindle will pay for their share on the shipment but it’s needed for Brandywine’s event space.”

“Will do,” Jewel said.

He hadn’t worked, physically, nearly as hard as many of the jobs he’d done in his youth. But the day had been wearing, nonetheless. The majority of the weariness came from being out on the boat. That wore you out until you got used to it.

And the fishing had taken some energy.

“To cook or not to cook?” Jason said, pulling a high-test Purple Lightning out of the case by the chair. “That is the question.”

He only had so many of the prepared meals. If he ate them every time he was worn out, he was going to be out quick.

“Ever had fire-grilled abalone?” Jewel asked. “It’s not hard to fix. I can fix it for you.”

“You don’t have taste buds,” Jason replied.

“It’s not seasoned,” Jewel said. “It’s usually just cooked in the shell over a grill. I kept some of the shells and can make a grill over the fire in a jiff.”

“There’s an old saying,” Jason said. “If she could cook, I’d marry her. Usually said about planes and things.”

“You can’t marry an AI,” Jewel said. “But I’d be glad to try some for you. If you don’t like it, no big deal.”

“Any shrooms?” Jason said. “Of a known type. I’m not up for tasting at the moment.”

“There are four species of known edible fungi,” Jewel said. “One of them is reputed to be quite tasty.”

“Get me a few of those,” Jason said. “I’ll make skewers. And, yes, abalone sounds good.”

“I shall endeavor to provide,” Jewel said.

A drone brought over a selection of mushrooms while a stasis case walked in on flexmet legs. The case opened to reveal slabs of abalone as a drone brought over three shells. The abalone were added to the shells which were popped onto a flexmet grill to cook as the case walked back into the night and the rain.

Jason skewered three of the rather large mushrooms onto some flexmet and extended it to reach the fire. He didn’t even have to get closer. It was an incredibly lazy way to cook. But the lever of the large mushrooms was rather heavy on his hand, so he extended down a prop to hold the contraption up. That was even lazier. Perfect.

The shrooms were ready about the same time as the abalone. He plucked that out of the fire himself, using flexmet, and set the mushrooms and the abalone on a flexmet tray attached to his camp chair.

“Bless us, oh Lord, and these Thy gifts which we are about to receive from Your bounty through Christ Our Lord, Amen,” Jason said, crossing himself.

“That’s the first time you’ve ever prayed before a meal,” Jewel said.

“I forget,” Jason said, trying a bite of the mushroom first. “Needs some salt and pepper.”

He fished into the case and came up with salt, pepper and garlic salt. A touch of garlic salt and pepper was just right.

“We need a replacement for black pepper soon,” Jason said, taking another bite of mushroom. Perfecto.

The abalone was . . . chewy. Also, rich and incredibly flavorful.

“That’s really good,” Jason said. “Also enhanced by some garlic salt and pepper.”

Three mushrooms and a half an abalone and he was stuffed.

“This is really good but incredibly rich,” Jason said, gesturing at the abalone. “I’m not going to be able to finish even one. And it’s not because I stuffed myself with mushrooms . . . ”

“Jason,” Jewel said, laughing, “I’m not going to get annoyed that you don’t like my cooking. For one thing, I’m an AI. It’s not my gift. And for another, abalone is reputed to be extremely rich. I probably should have only cooked one.”

In the distance, the wolf pack made itself heard. Even behind the defenses of the camp, the sound made his hair stand up.

“Should I have the bots take out the wolf pack?” Jewel asked. “It’s permissible as a potential threat even outside the lease.”

“No,” Jason said. “Leave them for now. There’s no value to the meat or the pelts. I can handle a wolf howl or two. I’ll put the abalone in with the precooked meals. It really is rich.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Jason,” Jewel said with a tone of humor in her voice. “I’ll clean up.”

The abalone was whisked into the stasis case with precooked meals and the tray disappeared.

Jason finished off the Purple Lightning and just meditated on the fire for a while.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Jewel said after a bit.

“I don’t really have any,” Jason said as the wolves continued to howl. “We’ll see what the traps and nets bring in tomorrow. My inventive brain is worn out for the day. We’ll see what tomorrow brings . . . ”

* * *

“Lord knows, I am grateful for this fine church that you all have provided,” Pastor Mickey said. He stood at a flexmet podium on a low stage at one end of the hall. “I am grateful to you. To those of you who procured this building for us, and to all of you, for showing up. And I thank God, the Lord of the known and the unknown universe alike, for His grace in bringing us here, alive, and a mostly intact community.

“I’ve been thinking about myself, and about some of our neighbors, recently. And I’ve been led to take as my text today, the Epistle of James, chapter one, verse two. ‘My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations.’ Now, ‘temptations’ here are ‘peirasmois,’ which means ‘trials.’ The wise old bishop of Jerusalem here is not saying that we should want to be lured into sin, no. He’s saying we should be happy to be tried. He’s saying that there is something about the human condition that needs serious testing. He’s telling us that we shouldn’t want life to be too easy, we should embrace life with joy precisely because it is difficult.

“Now what on Earth is old James talking about?”


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