Pillsbury + 1 year:

[Just Old Al]

Later that day, Al picked up the phone and dialed a number that was altogether too familiar.

"Howard."

"Greg! BUDDY! PAL! How are you? How's that lovely wife of yours? Get any lately?"

"Al, you saw me yesterday, we moved houses together, and yes, I had a remarkable evening thanks to that crazy woman that's using your facilities and her friends. Now what the hell do you want?"

"What could I conceivably want? Can't I just call up and wish my blood brother a wonderful day? Can't I just want to hear the voice of my partner in crime, my battle buddy, one of our Band Of Brothers?"

"No, you old bullshit artist. Get to the point - what ails you that couldn't wait till we get together at the tests?"

"You wound me, sir, you wound me. Deeply. I call you out of the kindness of my heart to offer you a wonderful travel opportunity and you treat me with suspicion and malice. I am wounded - wounded, sir!"

"Oh, God - here it comes. NOW what have you gotten yourself into that you can't bullshit your way out of?"

"Well, it's Prroul and John. Need to get them to the West Coast after the party - and they can't be magicked. You know about Prroul and electricals, and he's the same way with magic - he grounds it out."

"I know. Interesting. SO, how are we going to get them there? Clara? Damn tight trip - four or five days in the back of that rolling shoebox."

"No, I have a better plan - we're going to build them a ride. I already have the start of it on the way in - it's being driven up from Muncie to Minneapolis as we speak."

Greg's voice took on a suspicious tone. "Ohkayyyyyy..what is it? Deuce and a half, panel truck? Asume we're just going to fit it with some furniture and go for it."

This was the part Al had been dreading.

"Welllll... it's a bus. An MCI-8 - 1978 vintage. Detroit Diesel pusher, Allison automatic transmission. Ex entertainer's job that got refitted to haul a choir group. "

Al continued quickly - let the cursing interrupt him.

"It's already ready to go as a hauler - we just need to refit the floors with some oak over the original floor to deal with Prroul's high contact pressure, and refit the suite at the back to take him as far as furniture goes - platform bed and such. Likely build him a sturdy chair or two to be out with us in the main area as well. Other than that, the thing's ready to go with a tyre change and a manintenance check - I refuse to drive anything anywhere unless it's been through a maintenance cycle I can trust."

There was a pregnant silence at the other end of the line - one that finally gave birth to Greg's voice. Surprisingly, he wasn't cursing - the tone in his voice was thoughtful and grudgingly approving.

"Surprisingly, that makes sense. Built as a people hauler, got facilities, and won't need a lot of work to bring it up to where we need it. Tentatively I approve. I have my CDL as well and assume you do - so driving the damn thing isn't going to get us in trouble. I assume MIB is in on this as well?"

"MIB is financing it. I made the case to Ms. Oduya that they could either fromt the costs on this or eat two months of agent's time, surveillance and all that keeping track of the Dynamic Duo as they walked to San Francisco."

"Makes no end of sense. Why is that scaring the hell out of me - and what's the other shoe?"

"Other shoe? What other shoe could there possibly be?"

"Al, I know you. You would NOT have called to tell me about this unless you expected to get yelled at for some insane, hare-brained subplot to this bad spy movie. Give."

"Well...you're not going to be pleased with the disguise I'm planning..."

[Sgt. Howard]

Annie agrees- you have my response down pat

[GlytchMeister]

The closest I've ever seen to an engine throwing something is a buddy's old rust bucket gasoline engine that did this thing called "dieseling."

Apparently, when he turned the car off, the engine kept spinning for 99.99% of a turn. The compression and residual heat managed to get the gas to ignite, and the engine would go backwards.

After a while of this happening, the engine decided to off itself in the most spectacular way it could imagine:

It dieseled especially hard and somehow managed to eject a chunk of metal (I think it was the whole damn piston) out through the hood and into the air in a shower of sparks, fluids, and fire.

I was in the passenger seat. I was out of the car and taking cover behind a sturdy tree before the piston landed.

[FreeFlier]

I knew someone who was hit in the face by the manifold when his v8 blew up . . . at the 2-3 shift in midpass. (It was in a front-engine dragster . . . that's why most dragsters now are rear-engine: Too many people had that experience.)

--FreeFlier

[GlytchMeister]

I always wondered why cars are made with the explodey spinning hot bits in the front where they will blow back into the cab if the car is moving at speed.

Yes, that's a technical term.

[Dave]

After a while of this happening, the engine decided to off itself in the most spectacular way it could imagine:

It dieseled especially hard and somehow managed to eject a chunk of metal (I think it was the whole damn piston) out through the hood and into the air in a shower of sparks, fluids, and fire.

I was in the passenger seat. I was out of the car and taking cover behind a sturdy tree before the piston landed.

"That's a heck of a cough you got there, buddy. Might want to talk to a doctor about it."

That sounds a bit like something I've heard that some of the kids with old carb engines like to do sometimes... get going at a good clip, turn off the ignition, let the gas/air mixture flow through the engine for a few seconds, then turn the ignition on again and create God's Own Backfire.

It's quite impressive, I understand, up to and including the moment when the "backfire" ruptures the whole muffler / cat and sends out a huge blast of shrapnel.

Reportedly, insurance companies are reluctant to pay for any of the required repairs.

[GlytchMeister]

Events that qualify for "God's own Backfire:"
Yellowstone erupting
Coronal mass ejections
Supernovae
Idiots trying to be cool in old cars

[Just Old Al]

Annie agrees- you have my response down pat

A fine compliment from a fine lady. Give her a hug for me.

[Warrl]

Just for reference: in most states, if Al were driving his own bus at his own expense he wouldn't need a CDL. Some state, for vehicles over a certain size, would require a "non-commercial Class A" license, which basically means a test of skill at driving the large vehicle but NOT a test of all the commercial-driver regulations. Many states wouldn't even require that.

However, in this case he's essentially going to be driving for hire (even though his only profit will be the post-drive value of the bus which is unknown at this point and may be negative), so he'd need the CDL.

[FreeFlier]

General rule is that over 25,000 lbs gross requires a CDL.

This is the first I've heard of a non-commercial license . . . does it exempt you from the medical requirements?

--FreeFlier

[GlytchMeister]

Ocean kayaks are not built quite like the kind used on rivers... At least not this one. Most kayaks Glytch has seen wrap around the paddler, with only a minimal hole that sits around the hips.
This kayak was closer to a raft. It had a hollow, but it was much shallower and completely open. The main bouyancy was provided by a hard plastic shell that was completely sealed off - the paddler sat in a dip in the top of the shell and strapped in with a single buckle.
The reasoning behind this seemed to be it was better to ditch the kayak and just swim if you ran into any major trouble.

As a result, breaking through the surf in this type of kayak without losing boat and paddle was a bit of a tricky affair.

The first time Glytch had done this, he got turned by a wave and subsequently broadsided. The kayak flipped, and Glytch was unceremoniously driven to shore as he was battered by the waves while he struggled to get out from underneath his kayak.
The next time, he made it through - mainly because he was irritated at the sea and because he wasn't about to let his father haven't another opportunity to ridicule him.

He was quite a bit younger and smaller back then, however, and much less strong than he was today... He was much better suited to surfing with waves than trying to fight them. Glytch was pleasantly surprised by how easy his adult size and strength made navigating the waves, and soon he was through the breakers and was enjoying the gentle rollers farther out. After a while, he rolled out and dunked himself into the water to cool off. Once he was back in the kayak, he began to paddle towards the rocks where the caves were.

The tide was reaching its lowest point just as Glytch arrived at the caves. Every wave slammed into the rocks violently, sending spray high into the air and reducing visibility.
"What the hell was I thinking back then? That coulda killed me..." Glytch squinted at the jagged igneous rocks and the swirling water as he held his position. During a gap between sets, Glytch moved closer and began to analyze the complex ebb and flow of the water as it seethed and swirled. It was completely different from the way water behaved in a river rapid, but there were similarities as well... As he looked on, patterns began to emerge... Rips formed here when a wave was coming, and eddies formed there when a wave was going... Glytch hovered around the area slowly, using his knowledge of fluid dynamics to build a map of the rocks below the waves and to predict currents. Soon, a route began to present itself toward the mouth of the cave.

Glytch waited until a new set was about to hit before he made his move. His arms, strengthened by his training with Eme' and Safyr during the lead-up to the Battle, and maintained by regular archery and parkour practice, served Glytch well - the extra power let him surf the leading wave into the fray. From then on, Glytch abused his paddle - propelling him forward, stopping cold, making sharp turns as he struggled to take advantage of the flow instead of being shoved aside or sucked in by it. The pattern of the waves let him predict what was going to happen before it did - three times he used a forming or dissipating eddy to boost his momentum or bring him to a shuddering halt before he hit a rock - and the rocks helped too. Gently bounding off of them, pushing off from them with his paddle.
Spray soaked him and a few times he was nearly overturned by a wave, and he only just managed to stay upright.

Then, he was through and in the cave.

And that's when things went to pieces... For Glytch couldn't see past the mouth of the cave. Everything within was unknown.

Just like last time.

[GlytchMeister]

When people think of caves, they imagine dark holes in the ground that are impossible to see in.

Fortunately, this was not the case with this cave. It was relatively short, with an open exit that allowed sunlight in as well as from the entrance. It was still considerably darker in the cave tha out in the open air.
For Glytch, this was an advantage. His eyes had always been better suited for dim, even dark, lighting. This sensitivity to light was one of the many reasons he liked hoods so much.
Glytch broke out in a wide grin as he flipped his hood back - he needed peripheral vision now more than anything. Adrenaline was pumping into his blood, and time seemed to slow as his brain cranked into overdrive, allowing him to perceive reality at a faster rate and with greater detail.
With every single moment, Glytch saw and processed as much data as he possibly could, making as many off-the-cuff decisions as he did calculations.

Funny thing about sea caves. Kayaking in them is extremely dangerous. Limited options as to where one can go, unpredictable currents and flows, and the ever-present danger of getting stuck in one as the tide rises and drowns you.

Glytch wasn't exactly sure how long he had been at this, but he wasn't going to stick around to find out how long it would take for his window of opportunity to close.

His mad grin shining in full force and a fearless laugh belting from his chest, Glytch drove forward toward the light at the other end of the tunnel. The waves interfered with themselves in the confined space of the cave - constructive interference created massive waves and nets of water shooting up and slamming into the ceiling. Sometimes the impact was enough to create a brutal bass note that shook Glytch's teeth in his skull. One such jet flipped Glytch completely over - end over end. Destructive interference created sudden dead zones, or massive, yawning holes that reached almost all the way to the bottom of the cave. Every time a hole formed, it would make a jet.
Cackling like the madman he was, Glytch improvised his way through the cave. The exit was especially dangerous - it was a relatively narrow opening that would barely fit a centuar. Getting through it would require considerable skill.

Glytch just used a different type of skill than most people would think to use.

Waves tend to arrive in sets, and the interval between sets is fairly regular. Once you know how many waves are to a set and how long every set is and the time between sets, you can generally time your actions to the motion and pattern of the ocean.

Just as Glytch neared the exit, the last wave departed from the cave, and the water went suddenly calm. Paddling through the exit was a simple matter of pointing the bow toward the hole and going forward until he was past.

On the other side lay Glytch's favorite place in the world.

[GlytchMeister]

The moment Glytch entered, he was immediately reminded of the cenotes of the Yucatan Peninsula. Rock walls reached up high, but they were rougher and darker than the walls of the sinkholes in which he had searched for the Black Book with Brandi. Igneous rock eroded differently from whatever the Yucatan was made of. The water beyond the exit of the cave was rather calm, gently lapping at a secluded and amazingly clean beach - driftwood and trash usually didn't make it through the caves - that required propulsion and intent.
Vines and ferns and other jungle flora grew in abundance atop the walls and in whatever niche they could get their roots into. The beach, far below, was shaped like a crescent moon - the calm seawater formed a roughly circular lagoon. The cave Glytch had just come through was at one of the points of the beach.
A few palm trees grew in the sand... Apart from them, the closest plants were ferns and hibiscus growing in the walls.
Glytch's mad grin softened into a contented smile as he ran the kayak aground. A short minute was spent dragging it up past the high tide mark.

Then, Glytch plopped down on the soft sand and lay there, watching the sky as he listened to the sea and the sounds of the island.

As Glytch relaxed, the thoughts of the Black Book, of the Battle of Pillsbury, and of his nearly ever-present concern over his identity faded away; replaced by the warm sand, fragrant air, and the gentle heartbeat of the waves. Soon, the sun set, and the sky gradually darkened, revealing a truly spectacular view of the stars. The walls of the chamber shielded Glytch's eyes from the light of any nearby towns, allowing him to see more stars than almost anywhere else he had ever been to.

As amazing as the sky may have been at the time, Glytch could only stare at it for so long before he dozed off.

[FreeFlier]

The Yucatan is mostly limestone . . . the cenotes are solution caves where the ceiling has collapsed until it broke to daylight.

--FreeFlier

[Dave]

The Yucatan is mostly limestone . . . the cenotes are solution caves where the ceiling has collapsed until it broke to daylight.

And, you could say that the northern Yucatan consists largely of shrapnel. 65-million-year-old shrapnel.

A lot of the cenotes occur in a semicircular area, distributed around the circumference of what's left of the Chicxulub crater. Big rock, fall down go boom... and, not surprisingly, the rock around the crater rim is rather banged up and cracked, thus leaving it prone to groundwater flow which results in those solution caves in the limestone.

I imagine that inside the rim, much of the rock is relatively "young" sedimentary deposits... sea-bottom ooze which filled in the crater... and this would tend to be limestone-rich.

[GlytchMeister]

Yup. I touched on that in Dark Knowledge.

There are a few cenotes near the center of the crater as well. The Lanthians built a dome over one to help hide the Black Book.

Who would look under a hill for a hole in the ground?

[FreeFlier]

Collapse caves usually have a hill on the floor where the debris piles up. it's fairly common for flowstone to cement the debris into a solid mass, too.

--FreeFlier

[GlytchMeister]

Collapse caves usually have a hill on the floor where the debris piles up. it's fairly common for flowstone to cement the debris into a solid mass, too.

--FreeFlier

Right, but they don't have a hill on top of them. The Lanthian...

Or was it the Etheitians?

SOMEBODY built a dome over the whole Cenote and disguised it as a hill.

[GlytchMeister]

Ugh, I wish I had my notes with me, referencing my past writings from memory is starting to strain the limits of my capability...

...

Right, I'm pretty sure the Lanthians built the Black Book itself, and then the Etheitians found it, put the lock on it, and hid the damn thing.

Then they went off their collective rockers and got Glytch to find it.

[GlytchMeister]

Glytch woke up to the sound of distant thunder and ocean waves while lying on his impromptu bed of cool, soft sand, and promptly decided this was the best way to wake up. It was very early in the morning, according to his phone, and the stars were only just beginning to be washed out by the colored light of the sunrise. Clouds overhead and bass rumblings heralded the approach of a thunderstorm. Birds, bugs, and frogs also contributed to the natural music. Glytch kept still for a few long moments, soaking up the experience before he was finally convinced to get moving by a flash of lightning.
I'd better get moving before I get caught in a storm. Glytch stretched and begrudgingly stood, pulling out his phone and locking onto himself, the kayak and the paddle and VORPing to the back end of the kayak shack. He left the kayak inside with a note to reassure the absent renter, then he went inland in search of breakfast.

The meal took the form of waffles with butter and guava syrup, sausage, guava juice, and cheesy scrambled eggs at a mom-and-pop restaurant, and Glytch ate on a covered patio as he watched the storm roll through.

Once the storm passed, Glytch paid for the meal, then snuck into the bathroom and teleported home.

"Aaaargh... It's cold!" Glytch immediately took a hot shower and changed into warmer, heavier clothing. I'm definitely going back soon... Ugh...