Orders of Magnitude (The Genie and the Engineer Series Book 2) (19 page)

Corey cocked his head to one side. “You have a solution? And
what would that be?”

Paul leaned forward. “The 737 was not their first choice,
was it? They wanted a 767, one that still had most of its hardware including
the landing gear. But they couldn’t swing the cost.”

“They told you this? Quite frankly, I can’t say anything—”

But Paul waved a hand in dismissal. “I will pay the
difference.”

Corey blinked several times. “Excuse me, mate?”

“You sell the 767 to your other customer for the same price
as the 737. I will pay the difference. And then I will buy the 737 for the same
price you are asking from them. Which is perfect, since I don’t need the
landing gear or anything else which is missing from the 737. Everybody wins. They
get their plane, you sell two planes instead of just one, which makes you look
good to corporate. And I get the plane I want. What could be sweeter?”

“Mr. DeWitt,” the Asia Pacific man said, struggling to find
the right words. “That’s a pretty steep price to pay for the shell of a 737.”

“I can afford it,” Paul assured him. “I’m the CEO of a manufacturing
company. We make baby diapers—”

“Diapers!” jabbered Daneel excitedly.

“—in Fiji and export to the rest of the world. Maybe you’ve
heard of us. Cuddles, Inc?”

Corey shook his head, still puzzled by the whole situation.
“What do you want with the plane anyway?”

“The same thing I wanted with all those other planes that I
bought,” Paul answered. “It will be part of a house I’m building. This one will
be in Canberra. I’m tired of staying in hotels there when I make a trip to Oz.”

“Canberra? Do you know how far that is from here, mate? The
737 has no engines, no control surfaces, no doors, no gear, no avionics, and no
hydraulics. It’s just a shell of a plane. How are you going to get it there?”

“No problem. I’ve got a couple of people that are real good
at moving things.”

Shaking his head, Corey leaned back in his seat. “I really
can’t allow just anyone into the storage field. There are safety risks and
possible disruptions to my own work crew to consider.”

Paul chuckled. “Believe me when I say this, pardner. You
won’t even know they’ve come and gone.”

• • • •

Later in the afternoon, they portaled to Perth to the Karrinyup
Shopping Centre, one of the larger malls in Perth, with 170 stores and
services, in order to do a bit of shopping.

As they emerged into the rotunda, Daneel under cloak behind
them, Paul let Capie steer them toward the escalators leading to the second
floor.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Capie said with a grateful
smile. “There’s just a few things I need to pick up now, that are not readily
available in Kalgoorlie.”

“No problem, dear,” Paul responded with a nonchalant wave of
his hand. “I bought what I wanted today in Alice. It’s only fair that you can
do some shopping too.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, as she skirted around an older couple
blocking their path. “There has been something that I’ve wanted to talk to you
about.”

“Oh?” Paul’s mental radar went immediately alert. “And what
would that be?”

“While we are in Australia, you want me to do most of the
shopping for the supplies we will need on Mars. On the other hand, you will be
doing most of the real work. Building the ship, making the first
super-talisman. I feel like I’m not making a real contribution here. I am
not
an airhead or a bimbo. I want to do more.”

Paul came to a full stop, staring at his wife as she
continued onward several steps until she realized that he wasn’t still with
her. Capie turned back, noting the incredulous look on his face.

“Mommy, drink?” Daneel babbled, clearly sensing that
something was not quite right between his parents.

“Bimbo?” repeated Paul, quizzically. “And just where did
that come from? Did you not save me in the Chicago Hospital from McDougall?  Was
it not you who unearthed the plot at the Olympics? Was it not you who figured
out how to get additional help from the Brazilian
Errabêlu
wizard and
stopped the bombing? None of those are acts of a bimbo!”

All around them, people were steering a clear path, keeping
a safe distance so as to not get involved.

Capie stepped closer to Paul. “Okay, maybe that was a bad
word choice. But you know what I mean.”

Paul sighed and then resumed walking slowly ahead. Together,
they headed for Myer, the largest department store in the mall and their first
stop.

“Yes, I suppose that I do,” he admitted reluctantly. “And I
admit that I am taking on most of the “work” as you call it, leaving you to do
the shopping. But that’s just the best allocation of resources, my dear. You
like shopping. You might consider it menial but I consider it a vitally
important and necessary task. On the other hand, I can barely tolerate it, the
amount of time that it takes, the inefficiencies involved. For building the
ship, I am the trained engineer. You are not. It’s only a logical application
of expertise, CB.”

“You could teach me,” came her sour reply.

He both heard and understood her dissatisfaction and chose
his next words with the greatest of care.

“Yes, I could,” he conceded with a nod. “And as intelligent
as you are, I have no doubt you could learn it and rapidly too. Moreover, I
would absolutely
love
to teach you engineering. But think of the time
element involved. We’d only be giving
Errabêlu
more time to find us,
more time to push Earth toward World War III, more time to kill more people.”

As they set foot in the first store, Capie sighed. “I
suppose you are right. You really are a terrible shopper.”

With a small shake of his head, Paul swallowed the first
comeback that came to mind. No, she was right. Shopping was not one of his
better talents.

“Let me assure you,” he soothingly said. “You are not my
flunky or my servant. You are my wife, my partner, my companion and my friend.
My closest friend ever.” He grinned at her as they maneuvered through the
aisles to the women’s department. “Does that help any?”

She smiled, leaning up against him, taking his hand and
squeezing it gently. “Have I told you today that I love you?”

“Only one or two hundred times,” he admitted with a shrug.
“But you can tell me again. I don’t mind. And, oh, I love you too.”

“Kissy-wissy!” shouted Daneel. “Lovey-dovey! Mommy! Daddy!”

• • • •

Just south of Eneabba, Australia, a hundred yards east of a
deserted section of National Route 1, a man-sized portal opened up, letting
Paul and Daneel fly through.

Paul held up a hand to shade his eyes while studying the
semi-arid landscape. There was little here in the way of vegetation and absolutely
no sign of civilization except for the two lane road. Mostly, all he saw was just
sand.

With a wave of his hand, he closed the portal behind him and
opened up a small new one, both ends of it in front of him.

“Now tweak it for ilmenite and rutile mineral sands,” he
muttered, waving a hand back and forth in the direction of the portal. “And
send it prospecting!”

He watched as one end of the portal dove into the ground.

Daneel, who was watching, enthralled, snickered and pointed.
“Wee! It flies!”

Patiently, Paul waited. At first, almost nothing came
through the end of the portal above ground. But then, quite suddenly, quite a
bit of sand did.

With a tight smile, he watched the mound of sand in front of
him grow larger.

Ilmenite and rutile mineral sands were the primary sources
for titanium, the one mineral that Paul needed more than any other in the
construction of the spacecraft for the trip to Mars. The very valuable metal
was harder, stronger and lighter than steel, and thus was a good choice to
strengthen the ship’s hull. And too, titanium had a very low thermal
conductivity, far lower than aluminum. A hull made of the metal would hold up
much better in an atmosphere at high speed and would also retain cabin heat
better in the vacuum of interplanetary space.

And he needed several tons of it just to get started. Since
only a fraction of the sand in front of him was actually titanium, he needed to
mine a considerable amount of sand to get all of the metal that was required.

Yes, he could have purchased the titanium on the open market
and avoided having to process the raw ore into a finished metal. It would have
been faster and a lot less trouble if he could have done so. But there were two
problems. First, buying that much titanium would have cost him millions of
dollars. And two, no single source could have furnished him with that much
titanium, not all at once. He would have needed to have made several purchases
at places around the globe. And he just didn’t care for the amount of exposure
that gave him, the potential for
Errabêlu
to find him.

Mining it and refining it himself wasn’t as fast, but it
wasn’t that much slower a process either.

Titanium wasn’t the only mineral he needed. After gathering
it, he would need to visit a few more places around Western Australia,
collecting other minerals that would be required. But that would be for later.
Right now what he mostly needed was titanium and then carbon for the spacecraft
rocket engines. Those he had to build first.

Most of the sand he was collecting he would take to the
desert location just about five miles southwest of Kalgoorlie, quite literally
in the middle of nowhere. Later, he would process the minerals and use them for
the fabrication of the components of the ship.

Fortunately, not everything needed to be mined. He could and
would buy some items such as the helium, argon, and the bottled oxygen he had
to have. And too, the mineral needed for the rocket fuel. It was readily
available on the open market and cheap enough.

As for Capie, she was already very busy visiting almost
every store and shop in the Kalgoorlie-Boulder area. She was spending hours
researching and purchasing all sorts of items ranging from food and clothing to
sleeping bags to furniture to linens to items of hygiene and more. Everything
that they might possibly need on Mars during the next six months. And she took
each day’s haul in a rental SUV or had it delivered to the building they had
leased, the one they had jointly and jokingly christened as Warehouse 13.

With a glance at the sun’s position, Paul estimated that he
could spend at least three hours here before it would be time to head home. He had
promised to take Capie out to eat every night, to unwind as best they could and
give her some personal attention. Life was a lot more enjoyable if some time
was allotted for relaxing and enjoying a good meal and good company. He was
most decidedly looking forward to that activity this evening.

“Sand, flies!” whooped Daneel.

• • • •

Snapping her fingers in annoyance, Capie cast her spell,
rolling up the large metal door on the building they were calling ‘Warehouse 13.’
When it was high enough, she proceeded to back the vehicle she was driving, a
Toyota Land Cruiser J200 rental SUV, into the opening.

Once she had the SUV inside the building, she shoved the
lever into park, killed the engine and climbed out.

She was more than a bit unhappy and she knew it.

Another spell and the rear doors on the Land Cruiser popped
open and cartons of food and other supplies began floating out, wending their
way on their own through the air and stacking themselves neatly against a wall,
joining other stacks of supplies sitting there, purchased on previous shopping
trips.

All of the magical work was pretty much taking place on
automatic pilot. For the most part, Capie’s thoughts were concentrated instead
on her situation, her concerns, yes and even her problems, the truth be told.

There were a lot of them too, pestering her. Nagging at her.

She was not happy. Not even close.

First off, she didn’t like living in Australia. Oh, the
people were nice enough, very friendly and helpful. They weren’t the problem.
But the weather here was so incredibly dry! Never any rain or fog. Surely there
was no drier place on Earth! You had to carry a full canteen just to cross the
road!

She also didn’t like living in such an isolated community.
Yes, the people of Kalgoorlie did their best to fight their isolation, with all
sorts of outdoor events, community activities and the like. But their city was
too small! She was accustomed to all of the urban amenities, accommodations and
facilities in a large city like Chicago. And too, San Jose. By comparison, even
Perth didn’t offer nearly as many services and luxuries. She felt stifled and
trapped. It would be far worse on Mars, she knew.

Which directly affected her time with Paul as well. In
California, ever since the attempted bombing in Rio, they had gone out three
and four times a week, to theaters, dancing, sailing, swimming, or any of a
dozen other activities, none of which were available in the Australian outback!

She missed Paul’s attention, his support, his understanding.
She could see him slipping away, being drawn into his own world, building a
spacecraft and Scotties. Yes, intellectually, she understood the reasons and
even approved of them. But that didn’t mean that she had to like it.

And then there was the situation in the Middle East.

Practically the entire world had condemned Iran’s
involvement in the attack at the Olympics. Well, except for the usual cast of
baddies like Russia, China, North Korea, Venezuela and so forth. Ever since
then, there had been a lot of saber rattling and “tough talk.” But no one, not
even the United States had done anything concrete about it. From past
experience, Capie was glumly expecting the unrest to quietly fade away, with no
changes in the international situation.

Except that Iran was still pushing the envelope. Last week,
the director of the Israeli intelligence service, Mossad, had disappeared from
his home, leaving no clue to his whereabouts. The Israelis were claiming that
he had been kidnapped by the Iranians. No one had claimed responsibility, but
the Israelis were gearing up for possible retaliation.