///
As Cleve enters Chloe’s meat locker, he mulls over the weapon situation in the Morgan domes. His rifle might draw unwanted attention if most people don’t carry in there. The repo squad, even out in the field, just had pistols. The only other longarm he’s seen on this planet belongs to the woman grinding bones in front of him. He likes her practical bent; she’ll make use of that material somehow. “Making gelatin?” he asks. “Jello?” Then it occurs to him she might not know what that is.
Her shudder, though, indicates that she does. Powdered jello is included in some of the ration packs. “That stuff’s disgusting,” she says, not looking up from her work.
“Glue?”
“Glue would be useful. You about to head out?”
“Yeah! Mariah had a pretty good idea about trying to camouflage the rover. Got any ideas?”
Chloe considers for a moment. “Maybe some sort of mesh or netting with local foliage.” Unfortunately, she does not have anything like that on hand. Data Haven doesn’t have the necessary materials. The only tarps they have are designed to be seen. Chloe has tried to conceal their bright blue color, but the slick hydrophobic material repels paint and dirt.
“Oh, you’ve already tried this?” Cleve asks.
“Of course. You’re not the first person to have this idea; it’s a good one.”
“No, not the first, not even the second,” Cleve says, not willing to take credit for Mariah’s good thinking.
Chloe’s advice is to work with the local plants themselves, weaving them into cover. Mushroom trees don’t have large leaves, but the prickly xenofungus stems stick together like velcro. Those vines can be hard to work with, which is a drawback. However, since most people don’t like to go near xenofungus, just its presence on the rover is likely to serve as a warning not to approach. Anyone who gets closer might interpret the vehicle as an overgrown ruin from the crash, particularly if the exterior looks a little beat up.
“That’s a good idea,” Cleve tells her.
“Just a matter-of-fact thing,” Chloe says, the praise sloughing off her. She finishes up her grinding and offers Cleve her hand. He moves his to shake hands, but she extends her arm closer in, clasping his forearm instead of his palm. Cleve adapts smoothly to the unexpected gesture. In Canada, this is a less common parting tradition than the handshake, but he fought with international forces back in the war. Some warrior-types were keen on this, and some bros. Apparently Chloe is, too. “Good luck,” she tells him.
///
Before I meet up with Cleve and Takuto, I stop in Tenoch’s lab. There are two things I want to ask them about, and I start with the one that’s completely aboveboard. “Is there a repair kit for the rover? Any extra tools you have that Cleve might need to fix it up if something goes wrong with it?” Tenoch stares at me, expressionless, and I elaborate, “Like extra wrenches?”
Tenoch looks around the workshop. “Of course there are extra wrenches. But a specific kit?” They shake their head. “That might be a good idea, but you never know what you are going to need. Unless! Can you tell the future?”
“No, I cannot. But you’ve worked on the vehicle and know its components, as well as what types of wrenches could be useful for dealing with it,” I point out.
Tenoch rattles off a list of wrench names. Allen, socket, monkey… I make no attempt to remember or record any. Tenoch isn’t instructing me; they are delighting in their special interest. They talk about various kinds of wrenches, their pros and cons. How much space they take up, what they’re used for, which are multipurpose and which can damage nuts. I wait out the tide of information, letting Tenoch revel in their passion for wrenches until they are ready to help me assemble a small selection of them.
After the infodump, I have a basic repair kit, along with a warning that some of the tools are of inferior quality. “So if any of them break, I’ll owe you some wrenches,” I say.
Tenoch considers for a moment. “I suppose so, yes,” they agree, as though the thought would not have occurred to them. I think they are just happy to have wrenches in more people’s hands.
“All right, well, I’m also wondering if you have any smaller, more refined, sharp tools and files,” I tell Tenoch. “The kinds of things that could be used to get through a lock,” I add, narrowing the scope of my question to one they can more easily consider. It’s unfortunate I don’t wear a pinned cravat and my preferred boutonniere is self-adhering. My short curls definitely don’t get pinned back. All this is to say, my outfit does not lend itself to picking locks.
Tenoch does not pass judgment on my potential need to get through locks, but they just don’t have the kinds of tools I’m looking for. They are interested in the art, but Data Haven does not have many physical locks on which to practice it. This exchange is more educational for me than the one on wrenches. I have very little experience in this area, but Tenoch has insight to share on common lock features and how to exploit them, which I very much appreciate hearing.