AAAAAnd back to the story.
AN: Another collaboartive - Sarge, Glytch, DInk - you know your bits - and I appreciate them...as always.
Stripped, inspected and reassembled, the launcher was again ready to go. A small quantity of meat birds had been made by hand and frozen with LN2, and awaited their destiny in a cooler, slowly warming to chewable temperatures. The three partners in crime sat in the bay with drinks, contemplating the machine. Its tests had gone perfectly. The wooden disks, chocolate disks and prototype meat birds had all flung perfectly.
It was time for the reveal.
“Now is as good a time as any, I suspect.” Al pulled his phone from his pocket, pressed a few buttons and said” Phix”.
“Madame Phix! It seems my compatriots and I have come up with a solution to your problem – or at least we think we have. Any chance I can get you to drop out to Alexander House’s back 40 in about an hour?”
The phone gabbled.
“No, it’s something that will take some room – which is why a demonstration is in order. If we can get this to work, I doubt tiring out your cub will be an issue – and hairballs from inappropriate snacks will be a thing of the past.”
More noises, then Al hung up.
“Not unsurprisingly, she is on her way. I think Daddy is going to get to deal with the little beast for a while – I hope he has chainmail gloves – or he may end up regenerating a hand.”
“How do you want to demo this?” Greg asked.
“Simple – we show her the basic function with the wooden disks – then we load it up with the burgers in the Peltier cooler in the ambulance and let her try it. She gets to put the idea across to Dixie. Not seeing that will be at all hard, as cats teach hunting behavior by demonstration.”
Greg nodded, then grinned. “I can’t wait to see the little flying chainsaw play this game. She gets a bellyful of good beef and some exercise and all she’s going to want to do is lay in the sun and purr.”
“Speaking of that, do you have your Kevlar engineering gauntlets? SOMEONE is going to have to hang onto the aforementioned chainsaw while Mama demonstrates the idea…and you volunteered.”
“I did NOT!”
“No, I did. Volunteer you, that is. I explain to Phix, Glytch drives, and YOU get the chainsaw.”
Greg was indignant. ”What the hell did I do to get the sharp end?”
Al chuckled. “"You got up this morning- besides, your hands are legendary. I've seen you de-burr steel with your bare calluses and strike a match off your palm. You have more scar tissue in those hands than I have in my whole body."
Greg was indignant. "Yea, well- if I can't play banjo after this, you and I will have words!"
Al’s chuckle got even louder. "Maybe so, but I suspect the civilized world may thank me. In any case, anything Dixie chomps off Neil will help you regrow, I expect."
Glytch grinned reassuringly, trying to make his friend feel better. "Don't worry, I can have you safely ensconced in a nuclear bunker in less than a second..." The grin turned to a slight frown. "Although... That might be all she needs to get the job done..."
Dignity thoroughly offended, Greg gave up on speaking to his compatriots, deciding that a respectable silence was far better than the obscenities he had running through his mind at present.
With that, the ambulance was loaded with the launcher and the support materials. Greg and Al drove out to the estate and to the back 40, Glytch electing to travel by his own means as the ambulance had only two seats.
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“Well, we’re all set. Wonder where Miss Kitty is?”
“Right behind you….”
Greg started, then relaxed as he realized Al was having him on. Glytch chuckled and said “Slowing down, Greg. Getting soft in your old age.”
“I will never get as soft as the Limey, here…he’s just completely gone to pot. Good living and not enough exercise – it’s a sad thing to see. Servants catering to his every whim…it’s awful in a man of his age.”
Al harrumphed. “Gone to pot indeed. I am still in the peak of physical condition, mind you…”
“Peak of a molehill, maybe. “ Greg grinned again.
“Ah, here she comes.” Al said, relieved that he didn’t need to come up with a retort. Phix drove into view on one of the small utility vehicles the staff used.
“PHIX! Good to see you.” Hugs were exchanged all around, then the launcher became the focus of attention.
“So, what do we have here?”
“Simple – this is the solution to all your problems. Exercise, healthy treats, and time outdoors without you having to run after your darling daughter every second.” With Greg and Glytch adding their parts, Phix was soon brought up to speed on the operation of the launcher, and the meat birds.
“So, let me get this straight. This thing tosses meat patties into the air – and then what happens?”
“You do what any other avian predator would do.”
“Eviscerate you?”
“Har, har. You are SO bloody funny. You didn’t tell me you’d taken up comedy as a hobby, Phix.” Al was unamused – the furball had scored a point on him.
Greg and Glytch, laughing heartily, applauded Phix’s sally. Glytch leaned toward Greg and muttered "One for her side." For their trouble they received a sidelong glare – which they completely ignored.
“Are we done? Thank you. No, what happens is the meat bird gets launched, and Dixie “ (AETERNIA!) ”goes after it. Being frozen, it will not be easy for her to chew, but will feel good on her gums from the teething – and they’re too big for her to choke down in one lump.
Once she gnaws that one and finishes it up, you do it again. From what Atsali says, the launch and return cycle is tiring – so it will get her to burn energy that she won’t need to expend elsewhere.”
“This has possibilities. Let’s see how it works.”
Greg unloaded the wooden test disks and loaded three of the meat birds Al had prepared.
Phix, over here behind the launcher. The meat bird is going to come out, then you launch. Just yell “PULL” when you’re ready. If you want to transform now, please do.”
Phix transformed, becoming the awesome predator she was in her natural form.
She lined up, going into pounce, and yelled “PULL!”
Glytch pushed the button, and THOCK! The meat bird was sailing through the air.
WHOOSH! Phix went after it, and was nearly on it when a tendril from the grass whipped up, snagged the meat bird, and disappeared into the grass. Seconds later an outraged yell of “EEEEWWW THIS ISN’T CHOCOLATE!!” rose up in Castela’s voice.
Phix, treading air overhead, reached down and picked up the outraged child from the grass, returning to the starting line and the massed bellows of laughter from the men at the machine.
Al, face twitching as he fought to control himself, spoke to Castela after Phix lowered her to the ground.
“Castela, sweetie, that wasn’t very nice. Tanta Phix needed to catch that – this is a toy we’re making for Aeternia and Tanta Phix needs to test it so she is sure it’s safe for her.”
“Bu-but Grampa I thought it was gonna be chocolate like ju-just last time! Those were GOOD!” As little children do, Castela was heartbroken over the lack of sweets.
“Oh, sweetie…go on back to the house. Grandpa will stop by later and bring you some OK?” Grandpa, like all grandfathers, was a pushover – and he knew it and didn’t care a fig.
Ensured of her sweet treat, Castela perked up, bestowed a careful hug on her grandfather and scampered off. She’d have chocolate later – Grampa said so!
With her departure, the assembled crew began to laugh again. Greg joked, “Oh, such a mean, nasty old man…”Grampa will bring you some later…” BWAAAHAHAHAHA…WHAT A PUSHOVER!”
“And in your time how many sweet rations did you happily hand out to local children? Oh, please…I do not want to hear it.”
“Oh, gee, Mr. Big Bad Sergeant-Major…” Greg broke out in guffaws again. With that, Phix and Glytch lost it again, laughing loud and long at Greg’s mockery of the crusty old man.
Al let it go on a minute, then clapped his hands for order. “OK, back to work. My apologies, Phix, I had no idea the little thief was out there. Shall we try this again?
She lined up, going into pounce, and yelled “PULL!”
Glytch pushed the button, and THOCK! Again the meat bird was sailing through the air.
WHOOSH! With a gale of wind from her wings Phix was after it, snagging it easily, popping it into her mouth as she circled to return.
“Hmmmm…crappy beef, Al. Not impressed. Tough to chew, as well.”
“Phix, focus. The chewiness can be fixed by regulating the storage temperature – though remember we don’t want her to wolf this down and want more. Keeping it hard makes her work at it, and the cold will help with her teeth erupting. As for the beef, we have a good butcher shop in Minneapolis putting together a bulk order of chopped steak for the little darling – these were put together with industrial burger from AHI’s kitchens.”
With an eager expression on her face, Phix got back into pounce and said, “Set it up.”
“PULL!”
Again and again Phix launched, circled and returned, chewing her prize. Glytch added some variability to the throws – allowing the controller to do its thing and forcing Phix to work harder for her prizes. After the eighth or ninth burger she alighted and said “No more – It’ll ruin my lunch.”
“So, whaddya think?” Glytch was curious. “Was there enough variance in the throws to make it interesting?”
“Yes…might be too much for the little one, though.”
“Not a problem – come over here and let me show you the controller.” Glytch clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously as he switched into teaching mode, then explained the workings of the controllers, leaving the librarian impressed at the design. Then Greg, proud of the way the launcher had behaved, explained the design of the hardware, and briefed her on the care and maintenance – and charging procedures.
Finally, Phix stood back.
“I am impressed. If I can get the idea of the game across to Aeternia, then this is going to work quite well. The combination of exercise and healthy treats – hopefully the production burgers are better than those“ Al sniffed – nitpicking, were we? “then this will be a great way to get her to burn off energy.
When can I bring her out so we can try this?”
“If I can get Greg to run into Minneapolis for the pallet of burgers for me, I figure we could do this tomorrow. Does that suit you?”
“Perfectly. This is fantastic – you gentlemen outdid yourselves with this.”
“Phix, you are quite welcome. On the morrow, then – but would Madame Librarian care for some chocolate before she goes?” Al pulled a few of the foil disks from his pocket and grinned wickedly.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."