Scrapyard Ship 3 Space Vengeance (17 page)

“
How do you know that?” the rhino replied.

“
The Greys. Same thing happened to them. We’re helping them get their planet back.”

“
Yes, the Craing have killed many of our kind, taken our mates and offspring. But they have also given us powerful weapons to fight our enemies,” he said, patting the energy weapon holstered at his side. “Soon, they will provide us with our own space vehicles so we can fight the Greys, destroy them once and for all.”

“
You will never be free of the Craing. Once you are no longer needed to serve the Craing Empire, you and your kind will be slaughtered.”

The rhino looked to the others; they were all getting agitated and starting to pace.

“
It seems to me you have three options. One, you make a stand here and fight. Unfortunately, it won’t be much of a fight since those five fighters will cut you down in less than a second, and you’ll all die. Second option, you’ll surrender and we hand you over to the Greys, at which point you’ll most likely be killed.”

“
What is the third option?”

“
You join in our fight against the Craing. We will drive the Craing from this part of space and you can return to your mates and offspring, return to a free and independent home world.”

“
We cannot speak for the others. We are only a few; there are thousands more of us here and on the Craing vessels.”

“
Often a revolt starts with only a few. Do you have a way to contact the others? Those attacking the dome city?”

“
Yes.”

“
Do it. Stop the killing before we use our fighters and vaporize every last one of you.”

The rhinos spoke between themselves in low voices. Finally, one of them stepped to the far side of the corral, closer toward the dome city, and trumpeted a sound so loud that Billy felt it vibrate through his helmet.

A moment passed and a similar sound echoed back from miles away. The exchange continued back and forth for some time. Eventually, it ceased and the rhino returned to the pack.

“
Well?” Billy asked.

“
It took some convincing. A temporary truce has been declared between Reds and Greys. The Reds are on their way back.”

* * *

“
There’s simply no way both Reds and Greys will agree to cohabit the same vessel, Cap,” Billy said. “Where are you, anyway?”

Jason stood on the bridge looking at Billy’s helmet cam feed of the planet below. “For now, we’re playing hide-and-seek with the other warships. Phase-shifting from one location to another so they can’t get a lock on us.”

“
How long can you do that?”

“
Since the Craing fleet has made an about-face and are headed back here, not too much longer. Maybe a day. What we need is a second ship. A big one. Secure the area. If things go right, we’ll be back to pick you all up in a few hours.”

“
Aye, Cap.”

Jason brought his attention back to the bridge. Turning around, Jason looked for Ricket. “Where the hell’s Ricket?”

“
I think he’s up on 4B, sir,” Orion answered, not taking her eyes from Billy’s helmet video feed.

“
Gunny, is this going to be a problem?”

“
Sir?” She pulled her eyes back toward Jason, then seemed to catch his meaning. “Sorry, sir.”

Jason brought two fingers up to his ear and hailed Ricket.

“
Go for Ricket.”

“
I need you on the bridge.”

“
Yes, I was already on my way, sir.”

Jason wondered if something was up. He couldn’t remember the last time Ricket hadn’t shown up even before Jason realized he needed him.

Ricket arrived a moment later and headed directly for Jason in the command chair.

“
Sorry, Captain, I was making some last-minute alterations to the PTCC software.”

“
You’ll need to play with that on your free time, Ricket. Right now I need you to collect what’s necessary for one of your remote piloting kits.”

“
Yes, Captain. For a Craing battle cruiser?”

“
Not necessarily.”

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

It seemed modular housing was much more prevalent than Nan had first thought. Surfing the web, she discovered a manufacturing and distribution center right there in San Bernardino. She spent the morning taking her refitted Jeep in for a required smog-emission test, and then registered the vehicle at the local DMV. After that, she picked Mollie up at school and headed for Gillgood Modular Home Builders.

“
How was our first day of school?”

“
Hated it,” Mollie said, looking out the side window.

“
Care to elaborate on that?”

“
What does that mean?” Mollie asked, not looking at her mother.

“
Care to explain why you hated school today?”

“
Everything I’ve learned you and Dad say I’m not allowed to talk about.”

“
You mean about things that have happened in space and on The Lilly?”

“
That and other stuff. I don’t fit in anymore, Mom. And I was so bored.”

“
Tomorrow will be better, you’ll see.”

“
Where are we going? I’m hungry,” Mollie said, looking at her mother for the first time.

“
We’re going to look at some modular homes.”

“
Why?”

“
Because I don’t like your Dad’s house. Don’t tell him I said that. I think it’s creepy.”

“
That’s not a very nice thing to say. I like the house just the way it is.”

“
Uh huh. Well, let’s just take a look, okay?”

“
I don’t like shopping. I want a Big Mac, Coke, and fries, and hot apple pie.”

“
If you’re good and don’t whine … maybe after,” Nan replied with a smile.

“
Is that where we’re going?” Mollie asked, pointing a finger toward a large lot with sections of homes supported up on temporary pilings.

Nan pulled in and parked next to a mobile home trailer. A sign said Office above the door.

Both Nan and Mollie bypassed the office trailer and headed directly for one of the modular homes. Unfinished plywood steps led up to wide double front doors. The door was unlocked and Mollie was the first one in.

“
Wow!”

Nan joined her and stood in the middle of what she figured was the home’s open great room. Although the flooring consisted of plywood sheets, the walls were in and the adjoining kitchen was completely done, with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.

“
You’ll have to go outside to see the other modular sections of this particular model,” a man’s British-accented voice informed them.

Both Nan and Mollie turned to see a salesman, wearing a yellow shirt and a broad brown-striped tie, standing behind them.

Mollie spoke up first. “Who are you?”

“
I’m Jonathan, a representative here. And who am I addressing?”

Nan smiled and offered her hand. “I’m Nan Reynolds; this is my daughter, Mollie.”

“
Nice to meet you both. You’re in the market for a new modular factory-built home?”

“
Maybe. We’re just checking things out. Looking at my options.”

“
Let me tell you a little about them. They are just as strong and reliable as any traditional, pad-built home. The loan process is the same and—”

“
Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve already researched all the pros and cons, Jonathan. What’s the size of this particular model?”

“
Twenty-eight hundred square feet. The other sections include four bedrooms, three baths, laundry room, a great room, and even a three-car garage.”

“
And what’s the minimum lot size for this plan?”

“
Well, you’re getting into specifics that come well down the line. But we suggest a quarter- acre lot, minimum—you know, so you can have an adequate yard.”

Nan pulled a small notebook from her purse and flipped it open. Next door to Jason’s current relic of a house there was an open lot. Teardrop calculated it to be a full acre.

“
Okay, good. Um, how much do these modules weigh?”

Jonathan was taken aback by the question and furrowed his brow. “Ms. Reynolds, a typical crane will have no problem lifting, or positioning, the modules. Again, all that is well down the road after selecting your home plan.”

“
Generally speaking, then, just spitball it, how heavy are these things?”

“
Ten to fifteen thousand pounds per modular unit. Let’s say fifty thousand pounds, total weight. Of course, rigging and extraneous items would be added on to that number,” Jonathan said, still confused.

“
No, that’s good. Rough numbers work.” Nan wrote them down in her little notebook. Teardrop had been specific; lifting anything heavier than twenty thousand pounds was problematic.

“
What’s the price of this particular home?”

“
There’s no one set price, since they are all configurable to what options you’ll want.”

“
How about this one?”

“
Well, this is a model.”

“
Yes. How much is this one?”

“
This is a quite complex, multi-roofed plan. No less than six modules. Let’s say one hundred ten dollars a square foot.”

Nan went back to writing in her notebook. “A twenty-eight hundred square foot home. Let’s see, that comes to three hundred and eight thousand dollars, right?”

“
Give or take. Now, that’s complete: delivery, set onto the foundation, plumbing and electrical hookups, and all the detail finishes inside and out.”

“
Jonathan, I’m going to go look at the other sections, its other modules. When I get back I’d like you, or someone who is the decision-maker, to give me the full price for delivering this home locally, as it’s currently configured, by tomorrow afternoon.”

“
You’re serious?”

“
Yes.”

“
That’s not possible.”

“
I’ll pay three hundred thousand dollars and you won’t have to install anything. Just drop off the modules and be on your way. Are you the person to make that deal?”

“
Um, no, but I’ll find out. Take your time looking at the modules. This could take a while.”

* * *

Teardrop finished clearing and then excavating the lot. It had found in the scrapyard several tractors, a Caterpillar backhoe, and an ancient-looking bulldozer. Both of the latter were soon up and running and, with Teardrop at the controls, made quick work of Jason’s next-door lot.

The modules arrived at the Central Valley Scrapyard on six specialized wide-load flatbed trucks the following afternoon. Expediting a crane and the truck to carry it had been an extra cost. The modules were lifted and placed around the outside periphery of the open lot. There was still much to do before the modular sections could be moved and assembled. Since Teardrop had access to the house plans the previous day, it was able to order what was needed from local contractor supply stores with early morning deliveries. It had already configured hookups for the municipal water and sewer lines, as well as the underground utility lines.

Two jumbo-sized cement mixers were going non-stop and Teardrop had made the footings for the above ground foundation, as well as the back porch. The driveway would take a few days longer but had been staked out, and graded, forms and rebar positioned. Throughout the day, city and county inspectors showed up, requiring Teardrop to drop everything and hide. Nan hadn’t believed it possible to get so many people moving with such short notice. But with her access to additional funds for discreet, under-the-table payoffs, local government officials were not adverse to making special arrangements, just this once.